Competition | ❧Damian Wayne X Reader☙ |

Part 6

Your walk down the stairs and into the grand hall was so far a quiet one, though you couldn't distinguish whether the silence was comfortable or uncomfortable. It simply just was. Regardless of what the silence was and wasn't, any notions about it were ultimately unnecessary. Your thoughts were being nagged by something else of far more significance than a period of quietude.

Your head was bowed as you slowly descended the flight of stairs, your hand firmly grasping the wooden banister for extra support. Coming to the final step Damian, whom had been hushed the whole duration of the walk, finally broke the silence. “I've been meaning to inquire. How have you already made acquaintances with Pennyworth, prior to me introducing him to you?” he questioned frankly, his head turning towards you. You swore you could see a certain glint in his eyes-however, it was indistinguishable. His eyes always displayed an array of emotions and his expressions manifested dual meanings-in short, Damian Wayne was difficult to read. You turn your head away from his piercing gaze and just stand in place at the bottom of the staircase.

Has Alfred previously informed the Wayne's of his former S.A.S. days? You recalled all the wonderful things your grandfather used to always tell you about his ‘old chap’ when you were much younger. The tales of all the absurd adventures-which at the time you swore he had made up, Alfred and him had accompanied each other through. Though you were young, the message got through that Alfred cared about his family a whole lot-keeping his S.A.S. days a secret would be illogical. Unless however, it would put the Wayne's in any bit of danger-then that would be a valid reason to hide it from them.

Alfred and your grandfather had both been selected to be part of a secret cadre of ex- S.A.S. agents. This unit was highly classified at the time of its prime, members were forbidden to tell their relatives and or loved ones they'd gotten accepted-this precaution was very much necessary to keep the faction a secret. The unit was formed in the 1950s, their sole purpose being deniable assassinations. Nevertheless, that was almost fifty years ago. They'd both been retired for years, and not to mention your grandfather wouldn't tell you something that he knew would inevitably put you in harm's way. Alfred wouldn't have a motive to hide a crucial part of his life from them.

“My Grandfather and Alfred befriended each other during their days of being British S.A.S. agents,” you finally answer vaguely, catching Damian's eye for a split second before looking around the grand hall. You could've gone into more detail, but decided not to. You were quick to divert the topic, “Perhaps you could give me a little tour of the manor? At least a tour of the section of the manor we're already headed to, ” you proposed. “Of course, ” he replied compliantly. You look back at him and flash a small smile his way, only to note that he'd still been studying you–again, his expression was unreadable. You watched as his front altered, the smile you once wore being blown to proportions by awe–you swore you saw him send a small smile in your direction before abruptly walking to the first door to your left.

He wore the smile well–you wondered if he knew he looked that good smiling, perhaps if he did he'd smile more often? Damian is attractive, even if he wasn't your ‘type’, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't attractive-he's just statistically appealing to the eye. There's no doubt about that, but this smile, this... genuine smile he'd just flashed you somehow made him look even more attractive-if that was even humanly possible. Thus far, he's only given you cocky smirks and occasional chuckles-in a way you felt slightly accomplished. You feel your face start to warm up, he'd just given you and only you a sincere smile.

You were greeted by a very spacious room, one of which was undoubtedly the dining hall. The middle of the room housed a large banquet table, at the center of the table stood dozens of candelabras. An enormous fireplace was stationed at the head of the room, it's roaring flames making the atmosphere of the room toastier than the grand hall's. “This is our formal dining hall, ” Damian said walking across the room to another door. You slowly follow, taking in the room. The longer you looked the more you noticed, every nook and cranny of this chamber was decorated graciously- whether it be with vintage portraits, displays of chain mail armor, display cabinets, or with armoire hutches. The last thing you took in before Damian led you into a corridor was the groin-vaulted ceiling and the Minka Lavery-style chandelier.