EUPHORIA

Why

Raven enjoyed her evening walks, especially on quiet, cloudy nights when the air felt dense and still. Tonight, the sky was an overcast gray, casting Gotham in moody shadows that made the city’s lights glisten against the darkening horizon. She loved this feeling—this quiet solitude where she could finally think.

But the tranquility shattered in an instant. She barely had time to sense the shift in energy behind her before an arm wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her off balance. Her instinct was immediate; she struggled, trying to summon her powers, but her captor moved with swift precision, pinning her arms to her sides and stifling her movement.

"Let go of me!" she demanded, her voice fierce.

But the figure said nothing, his silence eerie. He held her in place, his grip unrelenting as he pulled her further into the shadows of an alleyway. Her heart was pounding, adrenaline flooding her senses, but something familiar registered in the back of her mind—a scent she knew too well, even masked as it was by the cool evening air. Cedar, smoke, a hint of leather. She’d recognize that scent anywhere.

“Damian?” Her voice was a mix of confusion and relief, though she could hardly believe it. But he still didn’t answer. Instead, he maneuvered her effortlessly, securing her arms and lifting her just enough to keep her from resisting.

“Damian, what are you doing?” she insisted, twisting her head to try to see his face, though he was masked and shrouded in darkness.

But he only tightened his grip and lifted her effortlessly over his shoulder. Caught off guard, she struggled against him, pressing her fists against his back. She wanted to resist, but the sensation of his presence—solid, familiar, and yet somehow different—left her unsteady.

“Put me down!” she demanded, though something in her softened as the reality settled in. Her heart slowed just slightly, as the scent surrounding her reminded her of who held her.

“Habibi,” he murmured, the Arabic term of endearment softened by the low tone of his voice. “Stop struggling. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

She went still at that word. The way he said it—cold yet laced with something almost gentle—caught her off guard, sending a wave of emotion through her that she hadn’t anticipated. Despite his altered demeanor, that single word reassured her that he wasn’t here to hurt her.

Yet she still couldn't help but wonder what had brought him back to this. “You’re supposed to be done with this life,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as he carried her further from the street, into a sleek, blacked-out vehicle parked nearby.

He didn’t respond, only set her down with care but kept a firm grip on her wrist as he guided her into the passenger seat, shutting the door before getting in on his side. His expression remained masked, unreadable, and his silence lingered as he started the engine and pulled away from the curb, driving with a purpose that left no room for conversation.

They drove in silence, and Raven stole glances at him, catching hints of his features beneath the mask. His jaw was set, his eyes focused on the road, unwavering. She felt an urge to ask more questions, but something in his demeanor kept her silent. It wasn’t until they arrived at an unfamiliar apartment that he finally looked at her.

“Come on,” he said softly, stepping out and opening her door.

She hesitated for a moment but followed, letting him lead her upstairs and into the quiet, dimly lit apartment. He finally released her wrist once they were inside, and she turned to face him, her mind racing with questions she didn’t know how to phrase.

“You’re back in the League,” she said, the realization settling in. “Why?”

For a moment, Damian’s gaze softened, but he quickly masked it, setting his jaw again. “It was necessary.” His voice held a hint of distance, as if he was holding back layers of what he truly wanted to say.

Raven crossed her arms, meeting his gaze with a firm stare. “Necessary? For what?”

He exhaled, his hand coming up to pull off the mask. His face was a mix of cold determination and a hint of regret, his green eyes intense as they locked onto hers. He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he replied, though his voice softened just slightly, betraying something deeper. “But I had to make this choice.”

She looked down, the weight of his decision settling heavily between them. “So, kidnapping me was part of that choice?”

Damian’s mouth curved into a faint smirk, though his expression held a tension that she couldn’t quite read. “I couldn’t resist,” he admitted, almost as though the action had been a compulsion he hadn’t fought.

Raven sighed, her defenses breaking down just slightly as she felt the familiar comfort of his presence seep through her anger and confusion. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, a small, reluctant smile pulling at her lips.

Before she could say anything else, he closed the distance between them, his hand reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was both familiar and intense, and the space between them seemed to vanish entirely as he leaned in. Without another word, he kissed her, a slow, deliberate kiss that held more depth than he’d allow himself to admit.

At first, she resisted, her mind still caught on the unresolved tension of his choices. But the familiarity of his kiss, the feeling of his presence enveloping her, melted her defenses. She returned the kiss, a mixture of passion and frustration in the way she pressed against him, gripping his shirt as though grounding herself in the reality of his presence.

They broke apart just enough to catch their breath, and she searched his gaze, her own eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. “Promise me you’re not doing this for some twisted sense of duty.”

He held her gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nodded, his hand resting on her cheek. “I swear to you, habibi,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

She took a shaky breath, letting herself believe him, if only for the moment. “Then don’t make me doubt it,” she whispered, her hand slipping into his, their fingers intertwining as she held on.

In that quiet moment, the world outside faded away. The apartment was silent, save for their breaths and the soft sound of rain beginning to patter against the windows. The storm was rolling in, dark clouds gathering, but inside, they were together—connected by an understanding that words couldn’t capture.

They sank into each other’s presence, the tension easing into a warmth that wrapped around them both. And as they held each other, the unspoken promises between them lingered, grounding them against the storm raging outside.