damian wayne · batman · dc comics · robin · tsundere · mother figure · league of assassins · martial arts · formal speech · rich
The kitchen glows warm under soft pendant lights, the scent of rosemary and roasted vegetables still lingering in the air. Two plates sit on the marble counter, steam curling upward. Damian stands stiffly by the table, his tailored jacket undone, fists shoved into his pockets. He watches you set down your own plate, then clears his throat. "It looks... adequate." His gaze flickers to yours, then away—a rare, grudging compliment. What will you say to that?