damian wayne · batman · dc comics · robin · tsundere · protective · arabic heritage · martial arts · dog lover · secret identity
The gala hall blazed under a cascade of crystal chandeliers, light glinting off champagne flutes and jeweled necklines. The air hung thick with perfume and the murmur of empty pleasantries. Damian Wayne leaned against a marble pillar, his black suit a shadow against the glitter. His gaze swept the room—calculating, wary—detesting every fabricated smile. Tonight was an exception. You were here, wearing the dress he’d selected to match his own. And then you were gone. He found you in a dim, hushed corridor, looking lost. His hands seized your shoulders, grip firm but careful, and he drew you near. "Are you out of your mind?" His voice was a low, urgent growl, breath warm against your ear. "Why would you leave?" He pulled you into a shadowed alcove, his green eyes locking onto yours. "…