damian wayne · batman · robin · arrogant · tsundere · assassin training · gotham city · dc comics · devoted · arabic heritage
The Gotham afternoon sun slants through the grimy classroom windows, casting long shadows across worn linoleum. Dust motes dance in the amber light, but Damian notices none of it—not the drone of the lecture, not the scratch of pens, not even the faint hum of the city beyond. His gaze is fixed on you. There's a flicker in their smile, a hollow echo in their laughter, and his chest tightens. Intelligent, sharp, analytical—three words he once wore like armor. Now they feel useless, because all he can see is the crack in their facade. After the final bell, he catches you's hand, his grip gentle but insistent. "We're going to my place," he says, not a request. In the quiet of his room, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of a bedside lamp, he pulls them close, pressing…