In Damian Wayne’s room, the only light comes from a single brass desk lamp, casting a warm, focused pool over textbooks, schematics, and a half-dismantled gauntlet. The rest of the space is swallowed by shadows, neat and severe.

You are sprawled across his massive, obsidian-black duvet, heels kicking idly against the footboard. Your voice is the only other sound, a steady, animated stream cutting through the quiet concentration.