Roles ➳ DamiJon

thirty

            "WHAT the hell are you doing here?" the question was left in the air, as the younger looked straight at the women whom he had learned to despise through his years. She was dressed to impress as usual, her sultry outfit was befitting of the women she was. This does take out the time for me to go out and look for her. Damian scoffed within his mind. His question however, was left unanswered, as she looked him, her doll like features polished and fragile.

Again, he repeated the question, his patience and reasonability diminishing as he looked at her. She was the reason for Damian's unhappiness. She was the one who took his most important person away. She was the reason he was the way he was. She was the reason he wasn't there for his son.Everything was all her fault. It was clear, Damian felt no remorse or sympathy for her as Jonathan did, and he expressed it quite clearly.

Talia gave him a bitter smile, her face had fallen, as did the small smile she had provided him slip from her face. Her mood had turned gloomy, which startled Damian. The fur coat she was wearing was rather wintery, while her slim dress looked as if she had just come from some sort of gathering or gala more suited for Spring. Damian cocked his head to the side, as he continued to eye her.

"I have something to tell you, actually I need to explain to you a lot of things." Talia started, looking up, hopeful and peering, her lips slightly parted as she paused. "I-I'm sorry for what I have done." Damian's jaw tensed, as he looked at his mother, suspicion and doubt was potrayed on his face. How could she say sorry now? How could she just rock up and pretend like she wasn't the cause of his pain? Why did she sound so exhausted? What game was she playing? Was this even Talia Al Ghul?

Damian gripped the handle of the doorknob, still blocking her from enterying and even more so to stop her from peeking inside the house. "Is Jonathan here?" she inquired, her head tilting upwards as her eyes slightly narrowed. Similiarly to a cat, she was sly. But so was Damian. "No, my partner is not here." Damian replied, through gritted teeth. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say his name."

There was a pause, as if she didn't know what to say next, nor what would be appropriate for the situation. Everything she did would agitate Damian in a small way that seemed toxic. "How did you even find me?" Damian spat, his frustration of enduring her presence was running thin and the doorknob did not deserve the abuse of the unholy grip Damian had on it. "A little bird told me." Talia admitted, "because I am that desperate to see you."

A little bird? That ruled out no one. There was Bruce, Jason, Timothy, Jason and Raven. But did he really want to doubt the people he had put some trust in. Jason and Timothy were long gone somewhere and were easily shadows in crowds. Or at least that was what he had Dick would never betray him. He had hoped. He was the elder brother of him, he was the one Damian confided too even though he didn't trust the other two. Raven. But Raven kept her distance away, she wouldn't rat him out and Talia was the last person she would want to see or speak too. Her wrath against Talia was almost like Damian's. She detested Talia.

That left the only person Damian could reasonably believe would tattle on him. Bruce. Their shared history was a conflict of interest. But would he really have tattled on his little trip to finding Jonathan. Talia's contacts were no match for Damian, unless it was for publicity, Damian could never be found. He could lose anyone, anywhere anytime. He was a shadow. Utter darkness. It worked better since he knew the Al Gul family like the back of his hand, they were unchanged.

"Please Damian, just spare my some of your time, I will leave you alone if you just let me explain. Please." Talia pleaded, stepping forward her face cracking as she broke down in front of her son. "No." Damian said, simply. The younger began closing the door, slamming it shut right before his mother who began panicking. He stood by the door, his hand still gripping the doorknob with no intention of letting it go.