Perfect | Tim Drake Fan fiction

Chapter Twelve | Our Turn

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"Is this her?" I asked in disbelief, confused why I seemed so close to Damian's mother. He nodded slowly. I noticed neat handwriting in the back of the photo. A cursive scrawl wrote: My best friend, my savior. I looked up at Damian, perplexed. I never wrote in cursive before, but yet again, I never knew I could fluently speak Arabic. I shook my head indignantly, knowing full well that any mother who left their son to fend for themselves in the middle of the tundra was nowhere near a good person. I smiled warmly at him and looked around for a pen. When I found one on a nearby coffee table, I opened the cap and wrote above it,

Damian Wayne,

My best friend, my savior.

I watched as a small smile crept its way onto his face.

---Katherine's P.o.V.---

   Damian's expression grew until he was beaming at me, not his usual smug smirk, but the kind of grin that wen't from ear to ear. I was chuckling at his expression, which turned into a fit of giggles when he hoisted me up in the air, his arms around my waist. His laughter bellowed throughout the room, the sound was like heaven on my ear drums.

   "Put me down!" I said playfully, even though we both knew we never wanted this moment to end. I was only 5'4", so he was able to lift me extremely high off the ground. For a fifteen year old a few months younger than me, he sure was tall.

   "Never!" he exclaimed, spinning me in circles. He finally put me down after a our little dance. "I've missed you, Snow Rabbit," he said, his smile not faltering in the slightest.

   "I feel the exact same Lucy. I wish I knew you were the same guy I met when I was little, I would've shown up at your doorstep sooner," I joked. He pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.

   "Don't ever leave me again. Okay?" he said softly, his embrace tightened, if that was even possible. It was like he was dying and I was his life support.

   "I won't if you won't," I replied, pulling away so we could face each other. There was a glint in his eye that I couldn't quite place.

   "Never in a million years," he whispered. He pulled me in closer, his hand on the small of my back. Our noses were inches away from touching. I might've closed the gap between us until the door slammed open.

   "Hey Little D your hour's up- Oh God! Can you not do that?" Dick yelled upon seeing the position we were in. The blood drained from my face as I stepped away from him arms. Damian simply looked irritated and folded his arms on his chest.

   "What did you want Grayson? I though you and father had some "work" to attend to," he said, making quotation motions with his fingers.

   "We did. While I was taking a break Tim asked me to tell you that your hour's up, whatever that means. Tim says he wants to hang out with Alice next so you guys have to separate. Aren't you eighteen Alice?" Dick asked with a scrutinizing gaze, though I didn't really find it offensive or hurtful.

   "Yes, I am. We weren't about to do anything by the way. I'll see you later Damian. Maybe we can talk after dinner," I said, following Dick outside. Once the door closed he turned to me with a serious gaze.

   "Do you like him?" he asked suddenly, gesturing to the door. In few words, I was shocked by his question.

   "O-of course I like him. He's one of my best friends," I stated as calmly as I could. Dick shook his head in disappointment.

   "You don't understand. Do you like-like him. In a 'I-wanna-be-in-a-relationship-with-him' kinda way," he elaborated. I saw Dick as an older brother I never had, even though we barely knew each other.