It's All Demonfire

Know You

Request by mrcatto "jealous damian/mar'i"
(why not both?)

Damian.

For the longest time he had watched her from afar. He remained quiet, observant, and aware. He was surprised how much he knew about her by just sitting in the bleachers, or the cafeteria, subtly peeking out of his book and stealing a glance here and there.

It wasn't a crime, wasn't it?

He knew she bit her lip when she tried to capture her focus on something. He knew she loved animals just like him when she secretly fed the stray cat near their school; and he knew, he fed the orange feline on his way home as well. He knew she never gets cold easily because even in the middle of December, she forgets to bring even just a scarf.

He knew that she loved her family more than anything, and that she was willing to take a beating when a bully tried to hurt her little brother. He knew she picks wild flowers in the side of the road, and in Gotham, they were not easy to find.

He knew that she was the most selfless person he had seen. It was surprising really.

And it was upsetting how he could only watch her and not know her. But he didn't care; at least that's what he'd tell himself over and over again.

But maybe it should stay that way, afterall, unnecessary feelings were starting to bloom. He's too prideful to admit it, but he was self aware. And these feelings led to unnecessary hate towards guys that surround her.

It was annoying how much he'd stop what he was doing all together just to glare the guy next to her, to get the hell away from her. It was annoying how much the guy could freely talk to her while he could only watched from afar.

And why the heck was he even bothered? He doesn't even know her that well. And does she even knew him?

Of course she does. He'd think.

He's Damian Wayne. Who in the world would not know or even catch his name in a crowd? He's the son of the one of the richest and influential man in Gotham City. Damian Wayne son of Bruce Wayne.

But that didn't help, why would it? He doesn't even know her, nor did she know him, the real him. And there wasn't much to offer. He was not kind like her, he was not charming like her, and he was not goddamn annoyed at that stupid-faced boy who was still sitting so close to her!

Fucking--!

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was really proud of how much he's surpressing his emotions right now. He breathed out.

You don't even know each other. He reminded himself.

Later that day, he cursed to himself. He jotted down the remaining paragraph the teacher left for them to copy. It was getting dark and he was alone with only the aggressive sounds of his pen against paper to keep him company.

The school was like a desert when he walked out of the classroom. He cursed again, he's decisions can sometimes be ridiculous, like this one for instance. He told Alfred to stop assisting him to get to places, that included school. He earned his own vehicle, but it was soon taken away from him when he almost crashed into his father's car.

His argument of being proficient at driving still stood, and now he's too butthurt to ask Alfred to drive him to school or home again.