Scared of the Dark || Damian Wayne x OC

40: the kiss

Look at this cute Damian and Beast boy drawing! This is kinda what I imagine to Damian to look like.

A week later

I exited my bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around my body. It was late, too late for me to be having a shower. But I had woken in the middle of the night from another one of my gross nightmares. I'd been all sweaty and sticky, and I couldn't help it.

I headed to my walk in closet to find my pajamas. Wind whistled through my open huge french windows, luminescant moonlight seeping into my room.

But there was a noise, faint and most likely nonexistent to the average human ears. I sensed a presence from somewhere behind me.

I whipped around and let out a small scream at the figure standing on my window sill. I jumped back and nearly dropped my towel.

"Could you be any louder?" Damian's scarcastic voice filled the air, and relief washed through me.

"You scared the shit out of me!" I replied, my heart pumping like a jackhammer in my chest.

He was dressed in his Robin uniform, having most likely just gotten back from patrol. He began to peel off the armored parts of his suit before throwing himself down into my pink chair and undoing his boots.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, confusion now taking over from my initial fear. I glanced at my phone and saw that it was two in the morning. Then I realized that I was still dripping wet in my towel, and I clutched it closer to my chest. "And you can't just show up like that. I could've been naked!"

Damian just shrugged, continuing to tug his shoes off as he glanced at me, eyes scanning my body.

I fished out my pajamas and rushed to the bathroom, changing quickly. By the time I entered my room again Damian was sitting on the end of my bed, his head in his hands. He looked sad, almost, or at the evry least distressed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked softly, sliding onto my bed and shuffling up beside him.

Damian pulled his hands away from his face and stiffened, refusing to make eye-contact with me.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

But that was such an obvious lie. Why else would he be here at 2 in the morning with no context, acting stranger than usual?

The moonlight was shining down on him, his skin glowing beneath it. He looked almost angelic. At least, until I saw his cut lip and black eye.

"Woah," I breathed, instinctively reaching for his face. He flinched at my touch, jerking his head away from me.

Something was definitely wrong.

"What happened, Damian?" I questioned. "That looks bad. Badder than usual."

Damian had been visiting me a lot these past few nights, though never at this time. He usually came through my bedroom door, too, not the window. It had become a weird little habit of ours, where he'd tell me about his night and the people he'd fought with Bruce.

"It's fine. It doesn't hurt," he spoke blankly, eyes finally meeting mine. I noticed how those emerald irises almost seemed to shimmer under the light. It was truly beautiful.

I realized then how close we were. Fuck, he was probably so uncomfortable. I always tended to move toward him without realizing just how badly I was invading his space. And considering that he hadn't mentioned anything about our kiss in two weeks, he obviosuly didn't like me in that way.

Right?

I distanced myself from him, clearing my throat to try and relieve the awkwardness. But Damian just continued to stare at me, examining my face, taking in all my flaws and ugly features. I always felt so insecure when I was with him. He looked like a sculpted god and i was just, well, me, a mere rat in comparison.