The Ultimate Soulreach :[Damian Wayne x Reader]

Brittle and Beaten

(Y/N) POV:

     My cheeks flush with burning humiliation as I lock eyes with their guilt-stricken faces. Bruce's expression, however, is laced with confusion, which only adds to my growing frustration. The air around me feels suffocatingly thin, causing my skin to tingle uncomfortably. Seeking a moment of respite, I close my eyes, hoping to find solace in the deafening silence that envelops us, but a bone-chilling cold settles deep within my marrow.

     My voice trembles with a mix of anger and disbelief as I begin to address them. "Let me get this straight," I utter, my tone growing louder with each passing word. "Not only have you shamelessly violated my privacy, but now you're trying to justify it?" My voice cracks, betraying the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. The weight of their betrayal hangs heavy in the air, tightening the knot in my throat.

      God, how could they?

     Bruce takes hesitant steps toward me, his hands clasped in an attempt to appear conciliatory. "Try to overcome your panic and understand the reasons behind our actions," he says, his voice measured and deliberate. Each step he takes feels like a calculated invasion of my personal space. A surge of indignation courses through me, and I snap at him, my voice dripping with contempt. "Don't patronize me," I hiss, struggling to contain the storm of emotions swirling within me. "I'm not some naïve fool who is oblivious to the harsh realities of this world," I seethe, my gaze shifting to Damian, who now lies silent on the bed, his fists clenched tightly.

      Bruce tilts his head, and although his expression remains stoic, his plea for understanding seeps through his façade. "I understand that this is difficult for you to accept, but now that you know our secret, you must understand," he implores, his voice carrying a tinge of desperation.

     My nostrils flare with anger, and my eyes narrow in scrutiny as I press him further. "What exactly," I take a controlled step toward him, "do you think I don't understand?" I demand, my voice dripping with simmering resentment. The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for his response.

      His gaze meets mine, unwavering and unyielding. His words carry an unspoken truth. "I believe you comprehend perfectly why we did it," he states, his voice low and measured. My jaw clenches, and I cross my arms over my chest, the gesture a shield against the pain that threatens to consume me.

     His eyes narrow in contemplation as if peering into the depths of my soul. "The act itself is not what upsets you," he continues, his words hitting uncomfortably close to the mark. I crack my jaw, a controlled exhale escaping through my clenched teeth. "You're right," I admit, my voice a low rumble. "It's the omission—the deceit," I concede, my eyes sweeping over the room, their gazes filled with guilt.

     Silence hangs heavy in the air, and I punish them with my disapproving silence, forcing them to confront the gravity of their actions. Finally, I break my silence, my voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "That is partly true," I utter, my words measured and deliberate. My gaze lands on Tim, whose indifferent expression ignites a flicker of fury within me. "But not entirely," I continue, my voice laced with accusation.

     Dick paces nervously, his discomfort offering a small semblance of satisfaction. Good, he should be troubled. They should all be troubled. However, Damian's reaction—or lack thereof—leaves me perplexed. I never expected him to remain so silent.

     Against my better judgment, I spare him a glance, and my heart shatters at the sight of his tear-streaked face, filled with remorse and guilt. "Damian?" I call out, my voice shaky with vulnerability. "Were you ever going to tell me?". He purses his lips, his gaze searching for an honest answer. After a moment of contemplation, he replies, "I don't know."