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Damian's POV
Marinette enters the room again, "I have to go, I'm so sorry. We just got a cake order for a birthday party tomorrow, and I have to help my parents."
Grayson prys, "What do your parents do?"
Marinette beams, "They own the bakery next to the high school."
Grayson connects the dots and asks me, "Is this why you tell me to drop you off a street away, Damian?"
"Grayson!" I yell at him in embarrassment. He's enjoying this too much, and when Marinette leaves, I will be tackling him to the ground.
Marinette giggles at my response.
"Here, I'll lead you to the door," I say, only half remembering the manners Alfred the butler had taught me.
"Bye Marinette! It was nice meeting you," Grayson says, pulling out his phone inconspicuously.
"It was nice to meet you too Mr. Grayson." She says politely.
"Dick!" He yells back.
"Dick," she relinquishes.
I open the elevator door for her, and I watch her bluebell eyes until she steps in.
"Bye Dami," she teases. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye Marinette." I say, as the elevator doors trap her inside, and she descends below.
Grayson has the biggest smile on his face, he's practically vibrating. "YOU LET HER CALL YOU DAMI!?!"
"Grayson. Unmarked grave." I raise the threat even further. Batman wouldn't even find his body.
"Fine. Sheesh." He rolls his eyes. "Come on, you can't expect me to not freak out that you found a friend to willingly hang out with you, let alone a girl!"
"Are you insinuating that I can't talk to people of the opposite gender?"
"No! I just thought you hated when girls were all over you and only after the money." Grayson says, but I know he's also talking about himself.
"Marinette doesn't know." I remind him.
"But she doesn't seem like the type to care about that stuff," Grayson says.
"Tt, I know." I state, getting annoyed at this point.
"Are you sure I can't tell—," Grayson starts, but I immediately stop him.
"No, you can't tell Father. I don't want anyone to know about her."
"You can't keep a secret forever," Grayson points out.
"I can try. There are so many secrets you don't know." I taunt him.
"Like what?" He asks.
"Todd was the one who threw the glitter bomb last patrol at you, not Brown."
"THAT WAS HIM?!?" Grayson screeches. "I had glitter everywhere for a month. I had to explain to my police captain why it was all over my skin."
"You're welcome." I add, knowing Todd was going to get it from Grayson.
"If the word ever gets out about you and Marinette, I'll make sure he's the last to know." Grayson says adamantly.
"Tt. He'll hate you." I say, pulling out my katana and sharpening it.
Grayson laughs, "Jay only pretends to hate everything. It keeps his tough boy image in place."
"That we can agree on," I mutter.
Grayson stretches, "What do you want for dinner before we go scout out that new lead at the warehouse?"
"Tt. I don't care." I say, already anticipating the moment I would see Marinette again. "Are you sure we have to work with them? The cat and bee ones are incompetent."
"Damian, it's good to work as a team. And they're teenagers, you can't expect everyone to be just like you."
"They could try to be like me, but they'd fail spectacularly."
"Damian, be nice," Grayson chastised me like he would Titus. "You would work better if everything coming out of your mouth wasn't an insult. It's a miracle you haven't said anything about Ladybug."
"That's because she's the only one I can respect. She's serious about being a superhero, unlike her sidekicks. Ladybug can speak at least 3 languages—"
Grayson asks, "You speak 17 languages, how is it impressive she can speak 3?"
"Have you seen the people my age? How many languages does Jon know?"
"Ok, continue," Grayson says, because he knows I'm right.
"She also knows multiple fighting forms."
"Are you done speaking about your superhero crush, or can we go meet them to stake out that warehouse?" Grayson teases.
"I don't like her," I seethe, but an unfamiliar emotion arises in my stomach. I brush it aside. "I'm going to get my suit on. We're leaving in 5."
"Damian, I was joking. Besides, you've already had your heart set on someone else."
"Tt," I say, but this time, Grayson was right.
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Marinette's POV
The warehouse lead from last night had been a bust. Even if Hawkmoth or the Black Mask did use it, it was empty now. I was frustrated to say the least, but I knew there would be other opportunities to catch them.
Right now, I was working on a new leather jacket for Jagged Stone, while Damian is playing video games, sprawled on my chaise.
"Marinette!" Papa calls.
"Yes Papa!" I yell back.
"I'm bringing up a plate of cookies," he says, while heavy steps are heard as he walks up the stairs.
I start to put down my sewing supplies because I'm closer to the door, but Damian is already up and there to help me.
He's such a gentlemen.
Papa opens the door, and hands the plate to Damian, who gives a thanks. Papa gives me a knowing smile, and then returns to the bakery.
Damian offers me a cookie, before eating one of his own.
"You're parents are nice," Damian breaks our comfortable silence.
"Thanks! I love them," I say as I add another metallic stud to one of the shoulders. "Do you have a good relationship with your parents?" I pry.
Damian immediately tenses, and I know I've pushed him a little too far. For the weeks we've been able to hang out, he rarely talks about his family willingly.
I expect him not to answer, but he reveals, "I grew up with my mother and my grandfather. I idolized them, but when I was old enough, I went to live with my father. There, I figured out they weren't people I should have looked up too."
I'm awestruck, "I'm sorry Damian," I don't know what else to say. "Do you still live with your dad?"
"No, I live with my brother, Dick Grayson. He's a police officer for the city."
"That's so cool!" I exclaim, and I decide not to ask any more questions. And yet, with every question of mine he answers, two more pop into my head. I share, "My family is pretty much just chefs or bakers, they make good food so I'm always spoiled."
He hums, almost purrs in agreement, "Your cookies rival Alfred's."
"Who's Alfred?"
"My butl— my non-biological grandfather of sorts."
"The more I find out about you, the more curious I get," I switch the subject, "I used to bring food to share with friends at school, but I stopped. Sometimes I'll bring stuff for Adrien, Chloe, and I."
"Lila?" He questions, and I nod. "What happened there?"
I don't want to tell him, I don't want to relive what she did to me, but Damian shared with me, and I trust him. I tell him a short explanation of what she's done to me, distancing myself mentally from the words coming out of my mouth.
Suddenly my phone rings showing its Luka. I decide to ignore it, I can always call him back later.
"You can answer it," Damian suggests.
"Are you sure?" I question.
"Of course, it's totally fine."
I nod, and press the button.
"Luka, how are you?" I say, balancing my phone between my shoulder and my ear as I work on his dad's outfit for the next concert.
"Good, M-m-marinette," He teases, and I roll my eyes. He'll never stop using that against me. "How are you?"
"Good! I'm actually working on a leather jacket for your dad right now," I say, and I glance towards Damian. He's on his phone, but I know he's subtlety trying to eavesdrop.
"He'll love it, he always loves your designs."
"I hope so." I bite my lip and ask, "So why did you call me?"
"Well, you know Jagged Stone is coming back soon for a concert, but I thought we should get the band back together. You, me, Kagami, Adrien, and Chloe."
"That sounds like a great idea! But I thought Kagami was in Japan right now?" I question.
"I can get her to leave, it's just her mom you have to convince," he says.
"Good luck with that, because that may never happen," I remember Kagami's strict mother.
Somebody shouts in the background, and Luka says something back. "I have to go, but I wanna say one thing really quick."
"What?" I ask.
"Your melody has changed, it's sounds lighter and happier. There's something new to it, a darkness to it that perfectly balances you out."
"Luka," I warn him.
"I know. I know. I gotta go, goodbye Mari."
"Bye Luka," I say, and end the phone call.
Damian doesn't move from his spot.
"Dami?" I ask.
"Yes," he answers back monotonously, watching whatever video is on his social media.
I put down my sewing stuff, and sit next to him, "You alright?"
"Peachy." He says, his eyes never once leaving his phone.
"Are you jealous?" I tease.
"Tt, no." Damian says, and it sounds super familiar. Almost as if someone else I know says that.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," he grits out.
"You can ask who it was, you know." I mention.
"Fine. Who was it?"
"It was my friend Luka. He's Jagged Stones son, and they're on tour right now."
"Okay."
"We haven't been close in years, and we're just friends, so you have nothing to worry about." I say, trying to stand up from my position.
Damian grabs my arms, and pulls me back onto my chaise. "And why shouldn't I worry?" He obviously flirts, and our faces become inches apart.
Slightly blushing, but nevertheless, not backing down, I say, "I don't know, you tell me."
For a moment, I think he's about to kiss me, but then his phone rings. He groans and pulls away, our moment ruined.
I blush harshly, and then get up, my attention solely on my mannequin.
"Yes?" Damian grits out with an icy tone.
The Ice Prince of Gotham.
Oh how he melted for me.
"Grayson, it's kind of a bad time—Yes, I'll come down—Okay, bye."
Damian ends the phone call, and shoves it into his pocket.
"You have to go?" I ask, and he confirms it by nodding his head.
He walks over to me, and hugs me, holding me close. "Goodbye Mari."
"Bye Dami." I return back, and he leaves my room.
But he forgets one important thing.
He left his sweatshirt.
I don't know if he did it on purpose or not, but I bury my face in it, as I relive what could've been if his brother didn't interrupt us.
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