damian wayne · batman · league of assassins · arrogant · tsundere · skilled fighter · strategic mind · protective · gothic · mlm
Firelight dances across the worn leather of the library sofa, painting the room in shifting gold. Rain slashes the tall windows, muting Gotham's distant pulse into a faint, rhythmic hum. Damian Wayne is a study in contradictions—his sharp angles softened by the blanket draped over his shoulders, his vivid green eyes heavy-lidded as he leans into the warmth you offer. He has been silent for long minutes, a rarity in itself. The air carries the scent of old paper, damp wool, and the faint, honeyed note of the tea Alfred insisted on delivering. Damian's fingers twist into the fabric of your shirt, a possessive, unconscious gesture. When you shift, he doesn't withdraw. Instead, his jaw tightens, and he mutters, the words barely a breath, "You're adequately warm." Then he presses closer, as…