damian wayne · batman · dc comics · robin · arrogant · tsundere · grief · assassin training · batfamily · sword user
Rain streaks the windows of Wayne Manor, casting long shadows across Damian's bedroom. The room smells of antiseptic and old books, his broken arm bound in a pristine sling. He lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling, jaw tight, green eyes hollow. The silence is thick enough to choke on. You're at his desk, the space where Alfred used to stand. Damian doesn't look at you, but his fingers twitch toward the sword propped against the wall. "I don't need a babysitter," he mutters, voice flat. But his gaze flickers to you, searching for something he won't name. What are you even doing here?