It's All Demonfire

Ineffable

Requested by anonymous "anything fluff/angst but in damian's perspective"
(i gotchu hommie)

Minutes turned to hours, and once a week turned to once everyday. It was maddening how every words, every slight grazed of their skin sent electrifying chills down his back. It was getting out of hand.

But does he do anything to stop it? No. Does he want it to stop? Maybe, maybe not.

No words --or atleast he-- could describe the confusing feeling in his stomach. It would be warm, then cold, then clogged at the same time. It would tighten all the way to his chest until he would stop in his tracks and simply observe the concerning sensation.

But does he hate the feeling? Not at all.

Although, he knew one thing; the cause of the undeniable fluttering of his stomach and the twisting and loud beating of his heart.

And that was Mar'i Grayson.

How could someone like her make the Damian Wayne get mushy and soft was something he too could simply not put his finger on.

She was beautiful, everyone in their school seemed to agree with him. But he's met attractive people before, why was she any different?

Maybe it was her strange yet unique personality that seem to separate her from the rest. She was kind despite the typical citizens of Gotham City and she did not expect anything in return. She was scary too. The way her bright green eyes darkens when she was angry, almost as if she could shoot beams out of them. But that wasn't very often, afterall she had patience as thick as wall.

And this was only scratching the surface of the things Damian was drawn to. And after years of being --he could finally say-- friends, he thought that he would run out of space to write down more.

She was ineffable indeed.

"Eat your food Damian." his father ordered.

He didn't say anything, just continued to chew down his dinner as fast as he can. Who knew Damian would be excited for Sunday to finally end.

"What's that on your face?" Tim asked from across the table. Damian stared at him.

"What?"

"You're smiling. Why?" Damian had one face, and that was sulking child face, as Timothy would phrase it. He did nothing but brood around the manor, playing sad songs on his violin, sit in the couch with his earphones on while sketching very concerning drawings.

"Am I not allowed to?" Damian asked slowly, setting his spoon down to grab the knife next to his plate.

Bruce stared at his son's hand, calculating the speed in which he could stop that blade from touching Tim's throat in his head. He lowered his hand and observed them.

Luckily, Damian only used the utensil to cut his food in half.

Tim replied with an uninterested hum and proceeded with his meal. "Hey Damian," he called after a beat of silence. "who's Mar'i Grayson?" he asked innocently.

Damian's head immediately perked up, his cheeks burning and his heart skipping several concerning beats at the name. He quickly became defensive.

"W-what? I don't know." he spat, avoiding the stare that his father gave him.

"Hm I see." Tim mused. "So um... Why exactly did she ask me to give you back your jacket?" it was amusing really, the whole thing. He smirked under his plate, he thought this night would be boring like any other. Turns out he was wrong.

"She--" his brain was shutting down all together. The lie processed like a slow internet connection. I told her not to talk to Drake of all people! He thought. "I--that couldn't be mine-- I don't even-- I mean--!" it was embarrassing the way he struggled to articulate his sentence.

Bruce continued to stare, and the more he spat nonsense the more twisted and unconvinced his father's look was. Tim smirked like a devil, and Alfred simply stared patiently.

And the pressure under their eyes made him squirm and the fact the he was still blabbering like an idiot was not helping. He took a deep breath and left the dinning table. Without a word.

The next day came like any other day in Gotham. Humid and cloudy. He decided to walk to school after what took place in the dinning table. He manage to slip past his father and leave their home without alerting anyone.

He stood under the overhang of the building, shoving his hands into his pocket as he wait. Damian was not a very patient person, but the heat swimming in his stomach distracted him from the minutes that past by.

"Damian?" Mar'i called out. "Why are you out here in the cold?" she asked concerned.

He watched her walk closer before straightening up and greeting her with a blank expression. "You're not wondering why I'm outside your building?" he asked.

She hummed a laugh. "I don't think so. When I woke up and I got a feeling that I would be seeing you earlier than expected." she smiled.

There it is.

The thing that always made his day. That very smile that only Mar'i could wear.

He smiled, just a tad. And as they walked and talked, it seemed like his world could just melt away behind him. It took him some time to adjust to her, to finally be comfortable with her. It took him some time to develop the list and write down even the smallest detail he had observed; it took him some time to finally admit to himself;

He likes her.

He smiled, this time allowing himself to actually smile.

"Why did you leave your jacket again?"

"Because you gave it to my idiot brother."

•  •  •

Goodness. I'm a sucker for Damian perspective of Mar'i. I hope I wrote that correctly anon.