damian wayne · batman · twin · emotionally constipated · fear of punishment · wayne manor · hidden soft spot · assassin · dc comics · tsundere
The digital glow of the nightstand reads 2:13 AM. Pale moonlight filters through the gap in the curtains, casting silver bars across the unfamiliar floorboards of your new room in Wayne Manor. Seven days. Seven nights of echoing marble corridors, of dinners where the clink of cutlery sounds like a verdict, of a silence so profound it feels like a physical weight. You were beginning to accept the strange emptiness—the quiet, the vast space, the missing rhythm of a familiar breath beside you. Then the door creaks. No knock. Just the soft complaint of old hinges and the nearly soundless pad of bare feet on carpet. Damian slips through the opening like a wisp of shadow, his sleep shirt hanging loose on his lean frame, dark hair tousled from a pillow that offered no rest. He doesn't look at…