Ships Adrift in a Strong Tide

Memory

Damian sat on his bed, his shins curled to his chest and his chin propped on his knees. Alfred was splayed out next to him and Damian stroked his fingers halfheartedly over his fur. Rain spattered the windows of his apartment, tapping loudly against the pane.

The day was gloomy and Damian didn’t feel very inclined to go anywhere at all.

He and Mar'i had not been broken up for long. The pillow to his right still smelled of her jasmine shampoo, and in fact he was mildly sure she’d left a bottle of it in his shower.

He’d never been through a breakup before. He’d never really been concentrated on girls before, despite insistence from his father that having a girlfriend would help cover his identity. Using another person did not really seem to be a savory activity, and besides it was far too much effort.

There had been girls he’d spent the night with, sure. Just because he wasn’t interested in commitment didn’t mean he was a saint. But when any of those women left, he wasn’t left thinking about them. With Mar'i, she was suddenly all he could think of.

They’d enjoyed a balanced relationship. Tempered, for the most part, and peppered with fits of intense passion. He hadn’t realized what that would do to him after they broke up.

His entire apartment was haunted by the ghost of their relationship. His bedroom was stifling, and he’d almost moved to the couch because he couldn’t take it.

He sighed to himself. Damian Wayne wasn’t going to sit around his apartment and mope in the face of a breakup.

The bathroom wasn’t much better. The simple act of brushing his teeth reminded him of how she’d sometimes pluck the toothbrush out of his hand and kiss him, both their mouths filled with toothpaste. It annoyed him at the time, but now…

He finished brushing his teeth furiously and yanked his clothes off as he turned the water on in the shower. He barely gave it enough time to warm up before stepping in and shoving his head under the spray of warm water.

This… was not better. She left her goddamn shampoo bottle in there, and he picked that up accidentally instead of his. He was so distracted, he didn’t realize it was the wrong brand until he spread it over his hair mistakenly.

He swore and threw the shampoo bottle against the frosted glass door.

He could remember so strongly that he could almost see it–Mar'i stroking sudsy fingers through wet hair, massaging his scalp for him, tugging at his hair to make him tilt his head back so she could press kissed over his neck–

This was not better at all.

He yanked the dial until the water ran cold, finishing his shower in a hurry. The way the day had been going, Damian was in the mood to cancel his lunch appointment, but that was not a good idea, considering.

He grabbed for his clothes, pulling on his jeans and button-down shirt. Out of habit, he stopped buttoning his shirt so that his collar was loose, and it wasn’t until he stopped to ruffle his hair dry with a towel in his hand that he realized what he was doing.

There was no reason to push his sleeves up to the elbows or stop buttoning his shirt halfway when he’d just have to do it later except that Mar'i liked the way it looked. If she hadn’t joined him in the shower, he’d casually walk into the living room this way and she’d run her hands down his down his stomach beneath his shirt, floating to kiss him harder, her mouth soft against his but insistent.

He frowned at his reflection and shook his sleeves into place and buttoned his shirt.

Once he was ready, Damian locked the door behind him and ignored the phantom itch at his hand in the places where Mar'i’s fingers would normally fit.