Sick Day (Damian Wayne x Reader)

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Alright! So we're off to a strong start on the request list...I believe. You gotta give me time to get around to yours though cause I have quite a few. Anyway, this was requested by @fiffyshadow and doesn't really use prompt 30 but had some involvement in the creation of this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

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Damian Wayne POV

For me, sickness often comes in waves rather than simply one thing at a time, yet in the long stretches of health, I never think how healthy things happen in bunches too, building me higher and stronger. I can be stubborn at times...but I'm positive my sickened state has affected my thinking thus making me perceptible to Drake's beliefs about me. The shooting pains which stab chaotically through my muscles and the ringing in my ears remind me that I should value the health and care of my body. I shiver violently in the humid room, moving closer to (Y/N) in the hope to gain more heat. (Y/N) is the only one that I allow to be close to me at all times. I may tolerate Grayson and father but even they annoy me on a weekly basis. (Y/N) is different, she's the only flower in the meadow for my eyes. (Y/N) has spent her whole morning tending to me instead of socialising or sleeping like another would choose to do. She doesn't care whether I'm sick or healthy, she just wants to spend time with me. 

And so I come to rest at her side. Grandfather would have me punished for letting (Y/N) capture my heart as easily as I let her. But our relationship is worth the risk. I have come to learn that what grandfather expected of me was close to impossible. (Y/N) taught me that every person needs a secure attachment of love. Without it, life becomes torture we are expected to endure, surviving but not quite living. Without (Y/N) I have no relief, no emotional morphine to help cope with the life I live. She is my hero and my heroine. Of course, I am addicted to her - but for every reason, pure and right. She is safety and love, an anchor I hold onto, that I tether myself to because I want to. Grandfather and mother taught me the brutal sting of abuse, the kind which shatters all emotional bonds, the kind which is passed down through the generations. But (Y/N) showed me warmth, consistent love and patience, something the league never had in supply.

My head feels as if some low life has shaken it until my brain is thoroughly bruised. I watch (Y/N)'s lips as she speaks about something which happened yesterday but the majority of her words don't reach my ears. Her lips turn down slightly and she stops speaking, instead, she presses the back of her hand on my forehead. She reaches for the ice water on my bedside table but is stopped by my noise of protest. Honestly, after three hours of trying to get me to drink something, I don't understand why she tries at all.

(Y/N) POV

I sit crossed-legged on Damian's warm bed. All I want is for Damian to be well again. I hate seeing him like this. Alfred had come in earlier this morning and told us that the only thing which could be done is for him to rest. Even under the light cotton sheet, he radiates heat like a cake right out of the oven, although, only moments before he was cold.  The only thing he's eaten is the watery soups which Alfred gave him. I've never seen him so lacking in, well... everything.

"I would like affection..." Damian mumbles.

"Uh huh, so what are you gonna do about it?" I tease.

"Don't make me ask for it..." He pleads.

"Alright, I'll let you off this time..." I giggle.

I move closer to him and wrap my arms around his torso while his arms encircle my waist. Damian's cuddles are the only medicine I need when I'm sick. So as we lay together talking about everything which comes to mind, I hope that mine are the same for him. Just lying next to him is my favourite place in the world. Somehow he fills me full of love and keeps the fire burning in my eyes. I softly poke Damian's nose and giggle as he screws his nose up in annoyance, turning his face away slightly. I brush a strand of black hair away from his face and plant a soft kiss on his temple. Damian and I know everything about each other but as our limbs intertwine I feel the beating of his heart. For the first time, I really feel it,  the lean and hard muscle against my own. I look down and see that he is half asleep. I notice that his features are much softer in his sleep, the lines that usually crease his brow are replaced by the youthful appearance that matches the others our age. He looks peaceful. His eyes open slightly before slipping closed again as I move to take a book off his bedside table.

Reading is like an escape from reality for me, although this time I'm not escaping, I'm just passing the time. As soon as I start reading, I immediately get sucked into it, forgetting about everything else. My imagination takes over as I follow the plot of the novel, the little world in my mind forming quickly as the characters progress through the story. It's crazy how much something as casual as reading can leave such an impact on you. But then I read the part where the main character proclaims his love for his partner. 

With a laugh, I take a moment and remember the day when Damian tried to tell me about his feelings towards me. He told me his heart is covered was bumps and bruises and that his soul was battered and broken. But that never mattered to me because loving someone is never easy. I can't even describe it sometimes, I just know that Damian is the only one that I'll ever want. He is my home. I look at him and I can see 30 years from now on the front porch of some old house in the middle of nowhere and we're together. He makes me feel more myself than anyone else can. That's why my love for him is infinite.

Love is a rare thing, I'm not going to spend time wasting it.

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