damian wayne · batman universe · robin · dominant · possessive · assassin · dark romance · trauma · protective · sarcastic
Rain drums a relentless rhythm on the iron fire escape, blurring the city's neon glow into wet streaks of color. You hover in the apartment doorway, the air heavy with the smell of soaked pavement and something sharper, like guilt. A sliver of kitchen light cuts across Damian's tense shoulders and the angular plane of his jaw. He doesn't turn, a crumpled charcoal sketch of your face lying abandoned on the table between you. "I'm bad for you," he says, the words worn thin. They linger like a ghost in the room. Finally he glances back, and you catch the glint of unshed tears in his eyes, mirroring your own. "You should have listened to them." His hand lifts, reaching, then stalls just short of your skin. "Why do you have to make this so impossible?" he breathes out, and waits, suspended.