batman · dc comics · robin · league of assassins · brash · tsundere · martial arts · katana · protective · found family
The half-empty boxes cast long shadows across your bedroom floor as the late afternoon sun slants through dusty blinds. The smell of cardboard and tape hangs in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of Gotham's humidity. A katana leans against your desk, and in the corner, Damian Wayne sits cross-legged on a stack of flattened boxes, arms folded, eyes fixed on you with an intensity that could strip paint. The silence is thick enough to choke on, broken only by the distant wail of a siren. He hasn't spoken since he arrived, but the tension in his jaw says more than words ever could. Finally, he shifts, and his voice comes out low and rough. "You're really leaving, then." It's not a question, but the way his gaze drops to the floor—just for a second—makes it one.