Morning in Gotham never really felt like morning. The sky was the color of steel, heavy with fog and leftover rain.
Damian was already awake. He moved through his apartment with precision—black shirt, hair still damp from his shower, movements quick and sharp. He’d given Raven a blanket and the couch, but when he walked out, she was still sitting in the same place as last night: on the window sill, watching the city through the glass.
“You didn’t sleep,” he observed flatly.
Her eyes flicked toward him. “Didn’t need to.”
He frowned, crossing his arms. “Everyone needs to.”
“Not everyone,” she replied quietly.
"why do you you insist on arguing with me?"He asked
When she shifted slightly, the air in the room moved with her—like a pulse of energy that wasn’t supposed to exist. He felt it brush his skin, sharp and electric. Instinctively, he reacted.
He moved faster than he should have—closing the distance between them, grabbing her wrist before he could stop himself.
“What was that?” His voice was low, sharp. Not a question—a demand.
Raven froze. Her pulse jumped under his hand. Her other hand twitched, a faint shimmer of dark light gathering near her fingers, then vanishing as quickly as it came.
“I didn’t do anything,” she whispered.
Her voice was steady, but her eyes gave her away—wide, terrified. Not of him hurting her, but of something deeper. Something old.
Damian realized how tightly he was holding her. For a split second, he saw it from the outside: his hand around her wrist, his body leaning close, her expression caught between fear and control. It was enough for him to release her.
He stepped back, the tension snapping between them like a wire.
“Don’t use your powers in here,” he said coldly, turning away before she could answer.
Raven stayed perfectly still, rubbing her wrist gently. “I wasn’t.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t apologize. He walked toward the kitchen instead, keeping his back to her. But his jaw was tight, his thoughts louder than he wanted them to be.
He hadn’t meant to grab her like that. The instinct to control, to contain, came too easily to him—trained reflex from a lifetime under the League. But the look in her eyes when he touched her… he couldn’t shake it.
It wasn’t defiance. It was fear.
He busied himself with the coffee maker, the sound of the machine filling the silence. Behind him, Raven shifted off the sill and sat cross-legged on the floor, her aura dimming until it was barely noticeable. Trying to make herself small again. Trying to be harmless.
The sight of it twisted something in his chest—quiet, unwanted guilt.
He sipped his coffee, staring out the window. “I overreacted.”
Raven looked up at him, surprised. “That’s… an apology?”
“It’s an observation,” he said, not meeting her eyes.
A faint, almost invisible smile touched her lips. “Right.”
He didn’t reply.
But when she went back to watching the rain, Damian found himself glancing over more than once—just to make sure she wasn’t trembling anymore.
He didn’t understand her. He didn’t trust her.
But he couldn’t stand that he’d scared her.
And that, somehow, unsettled him more than anything else.
Sorry it's a short chapter next one will be much bigger
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EUPHORIA
Fanficso this is the story im doing for Damirae week 2024 i'm also doing stories about their relationships also one shots im up for suggestions and if you have any art that you want me to do just send it to me through my wattpad account thanks look forwar...
