Clothed in our grief

Chapter Sixty

"(L/n), this is beyond one of your less well thought out plans." Damian says, your hand pushing on the heavy metal door to shut it behind you. At the moment, the walk in fridge all the way in the back of the store isn't even turned on. The only thing's that are usually kept back here are crates upon crates of egg, milk, half and half, and some other dairy products. Sometimes one of the other staff members sneak in a candy bar to keep it cold, but none the less. The fridge isn't on right now, and it's just like any other room in the building. Okay, so maybe it's a little cold in here. But it's not by too much.

"Relax, I have the key if you're worrying about someone locking us in from the outside-"

"They lock from the outside? And only the outside?" He asked, voice growing louder and seeming to echo off of the walls of the room. You only narrowed your eyes, grabbing his hand and pulling it to the cold door handle.

"Damian. Grab onto that and turn it. The little nub right there, you see that? It's the lock. You see the little hole in it? The key goes in there to-"

"Don't patronize me, I know what a damn lock is." He mutters, pulling his hand out from under yours before turning the knob on the handle, locking it. It only turns one way, meaning the only way to unlock it would be for the key to go in there. It's kind of odd that it's like this, and he can't help but wonder about how many possibly wrong ways this could go. 

"Would you like to unlock and then re-lock the door again just to make sure?" You asked with a smirk gracing your lips, extending your hand and showing him the key. His scowl only deepened, gently pushing your hand away and walking towards you with his hands at his side. He dind't stop walking at a few strides, getting close enough to you that you actually had to walk back if you wanted personal space.

"Tt, you're hiding something and I can't decide if it's serious, or personal." He said, moving his hands around when speaking, as if showing how much this is bothering him. Watching you space out more than usual, display bittersweet meanings behind some of the things you'll say. He doesn't know if it's anything that involves what happened to you, or something else entirely. Something he shouldn't get involved with, or something he needs to put a say in and help make sure the right people are involved. Regardless if it's him or not. Why? You've been doing this for him lately. Mostly it's connected to Robin, and the fact that there's no Batman at the moment because for obvious reasons, Dick's been hesitant to pick it up again. 

"What if it's serious and personal?" No lie there, you know. You can't wipe the smirk off of your face but it only fails to stay there when the back of your heels hit the wall, along with the back of one of your knees. The only thing that kept you from hitting your head and back was when Damian reached his hands out and made sure to hook one hand on your hip, and the other behind your head. Pulling you about an inch or so away from the wall, only to keep you in place long enough for you to actually press your back to the wall and his hands to leave your body. 

"Then it's just more personal, and shouldn't concern me. But I'm going to make an assumption that it does, based off of what you've spoken to me about today. Questioning me about Maps and how much she knows, all after joking about kissing me?" He only raises an eyebrow before attempting to hide the fact he's nervously keeping his hands at his sides painfully still.

You only roll your eyes and look off behind him, scoffing and trying to figure out how you can go about NOT explaining the fact that your mother just wants to suddenly up and run out of Gotham leaving everything behind while giving everyone the suspicion that something bad happened. All so that nobody can follow the three of you to wherever the hell she even plans on going. Saying you'll see your friends again, but acting like this is the last time she'll ever even see Laura?