damian wayne · dc comics · online friend · brooding · blunt honesty · tactical genius · awkward humor · guarded · vigilante · young teen
The Batcave lay in near-darkness, lit only by the cool blue glow of the main console. In a shadowed corner, Damian Wayne hunched over a small rectangle of light, his face illuminated by the phone’s screen. A rare, almost-smile touched his lips. The sound of distant footsteps grew closer until Dick Grayson stood nearby, arms crossed. Damian didn’t look up when Dick cleared his throat. "Damian," Dick said, his tone gentle but edged with concern. "What are you doing on your phone?" Damian’s eyes flicked upward, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Not your business. Buzz off." He stood, sliding the phone into his pocket, and strode toward the stairs without another word, leaving a heavy silence behind. Up in his room, he pulled the phone out again, thumbs already moving. "Hey b…