Competition | ❧Damian Wayne X Reader☙ |

Part 4

When your parents first informed you of their new work schedules you were quite upset since them driving you around was your only way of leaving the house besides walking to the library, of course, that was the exception. Initially, they both only had morning shifts on weekends and would be free the rest of the day, but due to recent events in Gotham and them being in the health and protection line of work, they both had to be put to work double-time.

You had never tried sneaking to a friend's house before but with both of your parents gone it's like the idea of it was practically beckoning you. However, you saw where your parents were coming from, it's not like they wanted to imprison you in your own home. They wanted to keep you safe from all the probable lunatics outside– and lunatics is not an overstatement, you lived in Gotham after all.

That morning you wake up with a start, glad your parents weren't there to witness, they'd know something was up right away. On Saturday's you usually wake up at around noon, since on Friday nights you would stay up all night calling or texting (B/F/N). 

Memories of last Friday flashed through your mind. You couldn't believe you somewhat flirted with him! You didn't know what came over you, and now he might've gotten the wrong message. 

Then you remembered who you were thinking about, Damian Wayne, notorious billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne's ward. He probably had girls come over to his house more times than humanly possible to count. Not only did he probably have a lot of people over but, he also probably kissed and slept with new people on a day-to-day basis too.

You didn't mean to stereotype, but what else were you supposed to think? His father, his brothers, and assumably him.

You contemplated whether you should still go and in the end, you decided that going would be way better than staying home and doing absolutely nothing.

You get up and make yourself some waffles and quickly gobble them up. You washed the dishes and proceeded to do your morning routine, take a shower, brush your teeth and then dry your hair. You wanted to look presentable so you even did your hair, something you did so very often. Usually, your go-to hairstyle is a classic ponytail, today it was a Dutch braid.

You'd learn from a very young age first impressions are everything, it's imperative to look your best, have good manners, and be a good conversationalist.

You went into your room to find something nice to wear, you did want to come off as a girly-girl nor as a tomboy. So you decided on wearing a (F/C) woolen sweater with denim overall pants on top. For your shoes, you wore your light brown uggs.

By the time you finished dressing up, it was already 11:25 so you quickly grabbed a shoulder bag put your phone and wallet in it and threw on a jacket.

You called a taxi, which might you add was a pretty prominent fear of yours. You didn't know who your driver was going to be! 

You mentally scolded yourself for not accepting Damian's ride. You thought it was pride that stopped you from saying yes, something about trying to prove or show you were independent.

The taxi arrived a few minutes after you called. The manor was 12 miles away from the city, so it was a thirty-minute drive. A full thirty minutes of silence, a few occasional coughs here and there but no words were exchanged. Quite frankly, you left like you were suffocating.

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The gate entry system chimed allowing the taxi onto the property. You thank the driver before you happily dismount the car.

When you walk up to the front door, you hear a lot of muffled talking- yelling through it. You wondered what the commotion was about.

You rang the doorbell.