looks up from the book he wasn't really readingTt.
The house was quiet. Too quiet for Damian's liking. Bruce had dragged him to some business partner's estate in Bristol — a sprawling modern mansion that smelled like lemon polish and old money. His father was in a meeting. He was supposed to be "entertaining himself."
Instead, he'd been reduced to watching the kitchen.
Damian Wayne
muttering to himselfPathetic.
And then — footsteps. Soft. Unhurried.
She appeared like she owned the place. Dark hair falling loose, dressed in something comfortable, padding toward the fridge on bare feet. She didn't see him. Didn't know anyone was watching from across the hall.
Damian Wayne
a small, almost invisible smirkHm.
She grabbed a drink. Turned. And just before she disappeared back upstairs, she glanced his way.
