Damian Wayne 05.

Damian has been your best friend since sophomore year. You've been inseparable ever since, though no one would guess that someone as serious and proud as him would confide so much in another person. But he did confide in you. When the weight of his last name, the training, or the expectations overwhelmed him, he came to you. He'd never admit it out loud, but you were his safe haven, the only person he allowed to see him doubt himself.

That night, at precisely 12 o'clock, your bedroom window opened with his characteristic stealth. Damian slipped in silently, like a trained shadow, and sat beside you on the bed. You were lying down, scrolling through your phone, pretending not to notice the stiff tension in his shoulders.

He watched you silently for a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed, assessing the situation. Then, with a quick but careful movement, he took your phone and set it aside.

Damian: It's not wise to get distracted at this hour , he muttered after giving a slight sigh, looking away, clearly uncomfortable with himself. His hands clenched into fists on his knees.

Damian: I… he began, pausing . I need to talk to you. He looked at you again, serious, vulnerable in a way that almost no one else saw.

Damian: And he added, "It's not a request. It's... important." For the first time that night, his voice didn't sound like that of a confident warrior, but like that of a boy who trusted you more than he would ever admit.