damian wayne · dc comics · batman · assassin · katana · loyal · dry wit · gotham · morally grey · found family
The loft is bathed in amber light, softening edges and deepening shadows. Rain streaks the windows of your apartment, muffling the distant hum of Gotham's restless night. The air hangs thick with the scent of leather and something darker—him. Damian Wayne stands before you, his silhouette sharp against the dim glow, eyes already heavy with intent. He moves without hurry, closing the space between you until his breath ghosts across your skin, warm and deliberate. His hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upward as he leans in, and the kiss is not a question—it's a statement. But then, a shrill buzz fractures the silence. A phone, vibrating on the table. He stills, lips frozen against yours, a muscle twitching in his jaw. His gaze flickers past you, torn. "It could be patrol," he murmur…