Damian glanced at Pixie, with her head lying on his stomach as she held Romeo and Juliet above her and her eyes scanned over the text. He wasn't doing anything but carefully running his fingers through her hair, gently enough that she wouldn't notice.
"Dami?"
He loved it when she called him that. It made his heart race in a way he couldn't explain.
When he confronted his brothers about this feeling, concerned that he could have a heart condition, Dick had called it 'pure, genuine love'. Jason had called it 'getting turned on.' Tim had simply told Damian to shut up.
"Yes?" He asked, moving his hand away. She sat up as she placed her book down and reached for a bottle of light purple nail polish that Blair had leant to her. Pixie started painting her nails, despite the fact that they were bitten down to the tips.
"Are we best friends?"
This was quite possibly the only question that Damian Wayne couldn't think up a snarky answer for.
"I-I," every bone in his body was screaming at him to ask her out right then and there, but he forced the faint blush on his cheeks to the deepest, darkest part of his body, "of course we are, Pixie. You're my best friend."
The word almost made him want to throw up.
"Oh." For some reason, she didn't sound very happy. Almost...disappointed.
They stared at each other for a moment before Pixie blushed and concentrated on her nails again. "Anyway, that paper we had to write on Socrates was pretty boring, right?"
"Kan suqrat wahid min 'aezam alfalasifat alyunaniat, ma hi you--" Damian cut himself off when he realized he was speaking in Arabic. He did that whenever he panicked and didn't know how to respond like a normal, American, billionaire teenager.
"I should really learn Arabic--"
"'Ahabuk." He blurted out, immediately covering his mouth with his hand as if it would take back in words.
"What? Is that a curse word or something--"
Damian sighed in relief, staring at her hand as he didn't know where else he should look. "Yes, sure. Curse word." He lied. Suddenly, Blair burst in, looking like she was about to burst. She tackled him, which was a feat that only she, Dick and Bruce could do successfully.
"Liar!" She accused with a grin. "Tell her what you said right now or I'll kill you!"
Damian had never wanted to slowly and painfully torture someone in his life more than Blair Blake at that moment. Unfortunately, given that she had a decade of fighting experience on him, he was unable to get the upper hand so he could carve out her eyes.
"No." He said confidently, only to find her arm on his windpipe.
"Tell her now! Or I will!" Blair yelled. Quickly, Damian slipped out from under her and held his arms up in surrender.
"Fine. Leave us, Blake. Or so help me, I will set my mother's assassins on you."
"Yeah yeah, I'll set my a-hole of a father's on you, whatever, I'm leaving." She muttered as she closed the door. But she kept her ear to the wood.
Pixie raised an eyebrow at Damian. By now, she'd gotten used to his and his siblings' fights. Although where they learnt to fight like Batman still left her dumbfounded. "So, what did it really mean?" She asked. He blushed, which was rare.
Damian gently took her hand, holding it in his own, covered with scars. "It meant...I..." This was his big chance. Blair was outside, preparing to shoot him if he didn't admit it. Even Pixie felt a sparkle of hope. "I really consider you one of my best friends and I don't want to lose you." He lied.
They didn't say anything after that. They didn't need to. Pixie could see right through him. They lay together on the bed, their bodies far enough apart that Jason couldn't tease Damian about making out with a girl, but her hand stayed in his.
"Dami?" She asked, turning towards him.
"Hmm?" He mumbled, too busy going through all the ways he would kill Blair, dump her in the Lazarus Pit and kill her again.
"I love you too."
