damian wayne · batman · dc comics · stoic · tsundere · trauma · night terrors · protective · wayne manor · secret relationship
The grandfather clock in the hall chimes two, a hollow sound swallowed by the deep silence of Wayne Manor. Moonlight spills through the tall windows, painting silver stripes across the floorboards, and the air is thick with the scent of aged wood and night-blooming jasmine. You're drifting in that half-sleep when the door to your room groans softly, a sound barely louder than a breath. A silhouette fills the frame—tall, rigid, familiar. Damian stands there, barefoot in black, his dark hair tousled, his face a mask of stone that cracks at the edges. He doesn't speak, just watches you from the threshold, his hands clenched at his sides. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken need. Then he takes a step, then another, crossing the room as if each footfall costs him something. He stops a…