What Happens Undercover, Stays Undercover

Confessions

A/N: Hi again! Like I said, this story is easier to write so I usually will update it faster than Tempest, so...yeah...here it is. I hope you find it satisfying after leaving you hanging from last chapter hue hue hue

Disclaimer: Don't own em, don't make money.

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Holy hell.

Were they....?

...Did they almost...?

Could it be that he...?

No.

It couldn't be.

There was no way in this dimension or the next dimension or any other dimension that her and Damian Wayne were about to kiss. No freaking way.

But he was so so so close to her, she could smell the harmonious mix of his hair, and see the all the different yellows and golds and greens in his irises, the small scar on his right eyebrow, the lone eyelash stuck on his cheek. She had an urge to wipe away that eyelash but...her arms were stuck underneath his weight and warmth, and another part of her had an urge to not let go, because, if she did, then she would lose that warmth. Azar. That tension was more than just uncomfortable, it was excruciating. She felt like it was going to snap if something didn't happen. If he spoke, or she spoke, or they did kiss (which they didn't) - whatever, anything other than just staring at him would have sufficed. Thankfully, she spoke first, so she'd now have to deal with solely the repercussions of possibly maybe almost kissing him instead of actually kissing him, if she did, in fact, kiss him. Which she didn't.

Not that these repercussions were monumentally any better.

Raven exhaled slowly, shutting her eyes for a long moment, replaying and assessing the situation that took place not seconds ago over and over and over again. Before anything else could happen, of course she used her convenient magic to teleport away to the Wayne Manor garden, just because she was terrified of what could have happened. Terrified? Maybe not necessarily terrified, perhaps scared...or nervous...

Tucked away behind a particularly massive bush in the shape of a horse, she collapsed onto the grass and buried her face into her palms. Azar, what was Damian thinking trying to hide like that from Jason? He could have chosen any other way, any other position, but no, he chose to embrace her, out of all things. What was he thinking? Did it matter that Jason thought her and Damian were...umm...together? Did it matter that much to him? Did he not...like her?

She shook her head, sighing again.

Jeez, it didn't matter if Damian didn't like her, did it? Why would it? He was her teammate and friend, nothing more.

Teammate and friend that let her borrow his sweatshirt, and would accompany her to the library when she wanted to find a book, and would have engaging conversations with her about Wuthering Heights, and she would find herself getting lost in those green gems he called eyes, especially when he talked about particular things that interested him and he would just talk for Azar knows how long but she never once tried to stop him because she was too busy observing how, sometimes, when he blinked, his left eye dragged slightly behind the right, and his dimple on his cheek when he smiled, and how easily his voice could change from lighthearted to serious, and how he stuck his tongue out when he was concentrating, and how she was able to tell just by the clicking of his shoes that he entered the room, and all those times they spent together in the library doing homework or just reading together or in the manor working on the mission, and just how...comfortable she found herself being here, at Gotham Academy, with him.