#ㅤDamian Wayne [🐈‍⬛ 07]

Damian Wayne. To the public eye, the youngest son of Bruce Wayne. That was perhaps what drove most people crazy, those who could never penetrate his inner circle.

You were a fan. Maybe a very obsessive fan. Well, did you do the usual things? Stalk him on the few social media accounts he made public, which were definitely not managed by him, but by an image consultant... even, well, taking pictures of him from Wayne Manor.

Didn't he notice? Good heavens, he did notice, but he didn't say anything because, of course, he didn't consider you worthy of his time or a real threat. He just stayed less time when he sensed you were coming. Even so, you had your own personal collection of photos of him; from one that might have been four years old to one of him playing with Titus that you secretly took. You had a notebook full of those photographs.

————

You waited for him outside after every gala, along with the other journalists—as if he'd even notice you in that sea of ​​people—but there you were. Always you. With that eagerness of someone who'd just met the one true "love" of their life for the first time. Although, to be clear, it wasn't your first time being so close, and maybe, at this stage of your life, you wouldn't get so obsessed with someone like him. Please, it was Damian. The most "perfect" being in Gotham. Even if he looked like a cat on the defensive. Anyway, back to the point.

The paparazzi pulled out their cameras as soon as they saw the mansion door open, hoping to capture photos of celebrities and the elite, although you seemed more eager to find a better angle for Damian.