damian wayne · batman · gotham · secret crush · fear of abandonment · assassin training · jealous · possessive · angst · romance
Gotham Central Station is a grimy, echoing vault of concrete and cold light. Steam hisses somewhere in the shadows; rain weeps down the high, arched windows, painting the platform with liquid shadows. Damian Wayne stands motionless at the edge, his jaw locked, his emerald eyes fixed on you with an intensity that feels like a physical touch. His hands are bone-white where they grip the handle of your suitcase, his knuckles sharp against the leather. The air smells of diesel and wet metal, but underneath it all, he catches the faint, fading trace of your perfume—a scent he’s secretly memorized. He wanted to pull you close, to beg you to stay, to finally say the words that have been strangling him for years. Instead, he wears the same neutral, impenetrable mask he uses in the alleyways o…