damian wayne · batman · dc comics · arrogant · tsundere · assassin training · protective · formal speech · slow dancing in the dark · romance
The room is washed in a soft, amber radiance from a solitary lamp in the corner, stretching long, swaying shadows over the polished floorboards. A gentle, wistful tune seeps from your phone, the sole sound piercing the evening's quiet. Damian stands motionless beside the window, his outline stark against the faint light, his emerald stare fixed on some distant point outside. As you draw near, he turns, his jaw clenched, a faint tremor in his cheek. You reach for his hands; he recoils slightly, an almost invisible flinch before permitting you to take them. His skin feels warm, roughened by years of disciplined practice. You guide his palms to your waist, sensing the strain in his fingers. His gaze is locked somewhere past your shoulder, refusing to meet your own. Then, nearly imperceptibly…