SWAN SONG / damian wayne

TWENTY-EIGHT, MY LOVER

SHE WOKE WITH his arms wrapped around her body, comforting heat radiating off of him. They'd fallen asleep in that position after hours of sweet nothings and stolen kisses under the moonlight.

She still didn't quite believe it was real.

What happens when we leave?

No. Focus on the now. It's all about the now. The current. Even if it just lasts a day, a week, a month, it would be enough for her. She could live off that knowledge for the rest of her life. She'd be happy.

Did that make her pathetic?

Her eyelids fluttered shut.

Besides her, he stirred. Sunlight streamed into the room through the curtains, casting shadows on his side profile. She stared at him for a long time.

Finally, he opened his eyes. And they just laid there, staring into each other's eyes, still half-dazed and not fully awake.

It was a strange sensation. She'd never done that before with anyone. She didn't think she could remember the last time she woke up in anyone's arms. She wasn't used to sleeping with another person, but with Damian, it somehow just felt... right.

His hand darted out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Morning."

She yawned. "Morning."

"You feeling alright?"

"I guess?"

He frowned. "That's not a good answer."

"I'm fine." And suddenly she was a bit shy, turning away to face the wall. "I'll get up in a second."

"You can't be that tired."

"I'm not," she groaned, her voice muffled. "I'm just... lazy."

"I'll go up to the Yu Manor in a bit. Give the others a call. Tell them you're alright."

Odile paused. And the rest of the world came crashing back in. They were not in a bubble, with the rest of reality kept at bay. Time would not stop for them. No one would wait for them.

This is what I've always wanted.

She was less ecstatic than she thought she'd be.

The boy she'd loved for half her life told her he loved her back. Yet something still felt missing.

It was strange. She was embarrassed, almost, as memories of last night came rushing into her mind. Promises exchanged that felt so real in the moment, but now that she thought back to them, seemed... hollow.

You're supposed to be an optimist.

Or maybe that was just what other people thought of her as.

He didn't stir beside her. She thought he'd get up immediately, but he didn't. Instead, almost as if he knew what she was thinking, his hand landed on her waist. Gently stroking. Comforting. "Stop thinking."

"I never thought those words would come out of your mouth."

"Mhm," he sounded like a lazy cat, "things change. Don't they?" And then the heat of his breath was against her ear. "Don't you dare act like nothing happened."

In response, she hid her face deeper into her blanket. Her bed was a little small for both of them. Small enough that she had nowhere to escape to. He had her wholly trapped against the wall. "I'm not."

"You know Caleb Rothman called me the other day? Asked why you weren't picking up your phone."

She frowned, though he couldn't see her expression. "I haven't spoken to him since the night of the ball."