Damian Wayne;

You and Damian met in 9th grade and from then on became inseparable, now you two are in 11th grade and your friendship became even stronger. You were his only friend in school and well, his best friend too. Your personalities were very different, but people often said that that was probably why two got along so well. While he was more moody and mysterious or at least that’s how you called him, you were more energetic and enthusiastic. And not that he’d said it to your face but he liked your positiveness, liked your sweet smile, and your jokes, even if sometimes he didn't actually understand them. Damian wouldn’t say it out loud, no. He passed all his life thinking that love was useless and didn’t actually matter.

But everytime he looked at you he questioned that. He wouldn’t do an advance on you, of course no, he couldn’t. You were his best friend. His only friend for the matter. He couldn’t risk everything for a chance that his feelings would be reciprocated. So he kept quiet. Even when your hand held his under the lunch table in the cafeteria. Even when you kissed his cheek after he helped you with his math test.

And now you two are here, sitting side by side in literature class, while the other students ramble behind you two and the teacher reads a poem in front of the class. He thinks it’s tedious. But you’re here. So he ignores everything around you two and focuses solemnly on you. His eyes trained on your figure as you doodle something in his notebook. He didn’t even notice what he was doing. He was so focused on the way your hair fell on your shoulders, the way your eyes glimmered as the sun hit your face, the way your soft lips moved as you talked- talked, you were speaking. He didn’t notice. He’s been looking at your face this whole time and didn’t notice you were speaking. Damn you.

“Sorry… my mind was… elsewhere. What did you say?” he cleared his throat and straightened his back, trying to sound and act as casual as possible.