Lost in the Void, Found in the Stars | Damian Wayne Oneshots

Doubletake | Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Maybe they'll meet again someday?

Summary: It seems they've found a muse.

.・。.・゜✭・»»——⍟——««.・✫・゜・。.

Marinette adjusted her seat at the corner of the studio, her sketchbook resting comfortably on her lap. She had planned to work on a new collection inspired by urban architecture, but her pencil seemed to have a mind of its own.

Instead of flowing fabrics and avant-garde designs, the lines on her paper had begun to take on a different shape—sharp cheekbones, intense eyes, a proud nose. Her muse wasn’t the Paris skyline or the elegance of haute couture. It was the boy sitting across the room.

Damian.

He stood near an easel, utterly absorbed in his painting. His focus was razor-sharp, his brush moving with deliberate precision as if every stroke was a calculated move on the battlefield. Marinette couldn’t help but watch him from her peripheral vision. He was so still, yet so vibrant.

Her pencil glided over the page again, soft shading around the curve of his jaw. She paused, blinking down at her work. Why did she draw him? It wasn’t like her to lose focus, especially not like this.

She glanced at Damian, careful not to be noticed. His brow furrowed slightly, lips pressed into a thin line as he studied his canvas. What is he painting?

Marinette craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse without drawing attention to herself.

What she didn’t know was that Damian was equally distracted.

Though his brush moved steadily, his attention kept flickering toward her. There was something about the way the sunlight framed her, catching the soft waves of her hair, the tilt of her chin as she concentrated.

And so, what was intended to be a landscape had become something else entirely.

Her.

Her profile, her posture, her expression.

The way her deep blue eyes seemed to hold the ocean itself, luring him in like a siren. The tension in her brow as she concentrated. The softness in her smile when she paused to admire her work.

Tt. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t one to lose himself in frivolous distractions, yet here he was, painting Marinette Dupain-Cheng like she was the only subject in the world worth capturing.

Neither of them noticed the other’s glances, too caught up in the rhythm of their own creations.

Marinette’s pencil skidded to a halt. She peeked at Damian again, her cheeks growing warmer. His head tilted slightly as he studied his canvas, his eyes narrowing in concentration. For a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to be the subject of such an intense gaze.

And then, the silence broke.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Damian’s voice was sharp but curious, his gaze suddenly locking onto hers.

Marinette jumped, clutching her sketchbook to her chest. “I—I wasn’t! I mean, I was—but not like that! I was just…” She trailed off, her words tumbling over each other like dominoes.