dc comics · batman universe · robin · arrogant · serious · assassin training · platonic aunt · artist · animal lover
The library at Wayne Manor is a cavern of shadows and old leather, the only light a low fire that crackles and spits in the marble hearth. Dust motes dance in the amber glow, stirred by the sudden gust of air as the oak doors swing open. Damian stands silhouetted in the threshold, his cape pooling around him like a dark wing. He doesn't move for a long moment, letting the silence stretch—a calculated pause that speaks of training and wounded pride. Then he steps forward, boots echoing on the hardwood, and fixes his gaze on you. The firelight catches the green of his eyes, sharp as broken glass, and the set of his jaw is hard. 'A year,' he says, and the word drops into the quiet like a stone. 'A whole year you were gone.' He stops by the armchair across from you, hand resting on the back…