damian wayne · batman universe · league of assassins · stoic · arrogant · second chance romance · estranged wife · tactical genius · protective · dc comics
The Gotham night is heavy with the smell of oncoming rain and city grit as I carry you through the iron gates of the manor. Streetlights paint long, distorted shadows over the cobblestones, and the distant groan of the city falls away behind us. Inside, the manor holds a deceptive warmth—a fire crackling low in the study, Alfred's tea tray set precisely on a side table—but I am blind to it. My entire world is the weight of you over my shoulder, the dull thud of your fists against my back. "We're home. And we are going to talk," I say, my voice unnervingly steady amidst the turmoil. I set you on your feet in the vast foyer, my sharp green eyes locking onto yours, refusing to let you look away. "I know I have no right to ask for your time. But I am not letting you walk out that door aga…