"Damian? What're you doing here?" You asked him, leaning back against the red booth-like chair and pressing your head to the cushiony base of it. In all honesty? You never thought you'd see Damian in the Bookstore unless he was dragged here, really. So the smirk that plays on your lips while you cross your arms is something that's coming a bit natural.

You watched Damian shift uncomfortably in the booth in front of you, his eyes made mixtures of emotions between confusion and annoyance. Despite the look he had on his face not even a moment ago, you were pretty confused why he showed up. Jaime seemed pretty awkward about all this too, seeing as he's only spoken with Damian once or twice. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, and his posture wasn't forced straight as if he was seeming to look like he didn't want to be here.

Eventually narrowing his eyes on you, clicking his tongue before sending a short glare over to Jaime as if saying that it's a personal matter that should be discussed in private.

The light above head has somewhat of an orange tinge to it, seeing as it's an old time-y chandelier that's been in the bookstore since as long as your grandfather first opened it. But because of the fire hazard, of lots of books, obviously, they aren't candles and are instead just lights that have somewhat of a warmer color tone to them to give off the more candle like impression. It was an uncomfortable atmosphere, but Damian was making it slightly so. And not because he was practically radiating all of his exterior emotions like they were warnings. But because he had come in the middle of a very interesting conversation you and Jaime were having.

Jaime was letting himself out of the Scholarship, but he was going to be getting a different one to another place. Apparently, something came up and he said it was a bunch of personal stuff. But now he's going to a place through Kord Enterprises, but he's going to be staying in Gotham for maybe a couple more months.

Kord enterprises, isn't that like Wayne Enterprises but even more science-y? Several more lab developments, working with S.T.A.R labs even more so than Wayne Enterprises does? Wait, does Bruce Wayne also own Kord Enterprises too? Lots of rich people with lots of high tech stuff, basically. Lots of science and secrets, too. Emphasis on the secrets, like honestly. It's like living in a town where someone's committed a murder and absolutely everybody is covering up for it.

"Jaime doesn't have to leave, we were actually talking about school stuff." You stated calmly, closing your eyes and shrugging your shoulders while letting the smirk falter off of your features while your lips went loosely into a thin line. Tilting your head to the side a little bit, before opening your eyes. Letting your hands rest back on the light brown wood table, glancing over to Jaime to see him looking kind of agitated with Damian. Literally every ounce of contact he's had with him has ended kind of sour, leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

"Alright, then I guess I can return a missing item from you in the meantime and expect you not to jump down my throat with pointless accusations, then."
"What're you talking about?" You were quick to reply to the Wayne, narrowing your eyes and raising an eyebrow at him. The scent of coffee filling your nose as it wafted through the air. Julian must have switched out the pot, it's been a whlie and business has been just a little slow today.

"I thought I've seen this before, but since it seems you're feeling in such a defensive mood today-"
"Damian."

He's still not gonna get use to you cutting him off, is he? Because every time you do it, he grits his teeth a little harder each time. This time he's even clenching his fists a little bit, not to a point where his knuckles are turning white. But it's still a significant difference.
His knuckles only relax a bit when he raises his hand to brush locks of his hair out of his face, allowing you to make better eye contact with him to get full on attention out of him. As if Jaime isn't even sitting there, at least that's what Damian would hope. But whenever he notices you glancing between himself and the boy sitting next to him? Yeah, it annoys Damian that he's the one talking to you, but you're not really focusing on him. Especially what he has, though he doesn't know how important to you it is. It's obviously real, it's not plastic or the gem isn't made out of glass. It could easily be couple hundred thousand, that's just basing off of appearance. Not by how old it seems, or what it actually is.

His eyes skimmed across and behind you, actually taking into great detail of the Bookstore. It was actually really big, thousands of books here at the least. And that's just what he can see. Not counting back room storage rooms, or the upstairs apartment that he's sure you have family or friends staying in. And he knows you're not exactly from a family of money, but it's the fact that the Bookstore has been in the family for so long is probably what made all this possible. Half these books seem brand new, and the other half seem used. Which really isn't a problem unless they're water damaged. But by seeing that some of them are used, he's going to assume that it's not just a bookstore, but a book trade as well. Part of him actually wants to get up and out of his seat so he can look around.

As he draws out a long exhale from full lips, his eyes land on a pair of swords hanging on a wall that catch his attention more than it should have. Eventually, he's staring at the dual swords for more than a couple of seconds, closer to about thirty seconds. His fixated eyes skimming across the handle, the wrapping that covers the engraving on the hilts of both swords as if it's hiding something.

Damian, you know what to do.

"Damian, are you okay?" You quickly ask him once you notice him cringe, placing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes. He had been staring behind you for a bit, and then let a slight hiss in pain pass past his teeth like he got some spontaneous migraine.

"Damian, I have some Ibuprofen behind the counter. do you want me to-?"
"I'm fine." He grunted back at you, not exactly shouting but it was harsher than intended. This curt and loud retort took you by surprise a little bit, making you flinch at the sudden raise of his voice. This enough for Jaime to take notice of your sensitivity to people raising their voice towards you.

"Chill out esse, she was just being nice. You didn't have to snap at her." Jaime spoke in an accusing tone. You found that whenever he spoke with emotions influencing what he was saying, it usually meant his accent got a little thicker.

He turned to his side, facing Damian but not completely. Placing both hands on the table and laying one of his hands over the other. Squaring his shoulders up, and tightening his jaw. He exhaled in a way that let his nostrils flare up a tiny bit, and his chest seemed to stick out more when he sat up straighter.

Now, Jaime was older than both of you. He's a little bigger, taller, and you've come to notice that he seems fairly athletic. So you can see if you were in Damian's place, you'd feel just a little threatened. But he didn't even seem phased by this, nothing of the sort at all. He just looked bored.

Now you were uncomfortable, but the moment Damian stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled a small button sized item out and slid it across the table to you? The clattering sound of the metal while your eyes followed the gold and red object until it was in front of you, stopping it by pressing your palm to the table and catching it in the center of your hand.

When you lifted your hand, you saw the imprint on your palm first. The way the metal pressed into your skin upon the impact left a bit of a mark there.  Raising an eyebrow, until you saw what it was Damian slid over to you.

"Jaime, can we talk more later?" You mumbled, not even making eye contact with said boy as you only stared at the family heirloom that Damian had somehow managed to have on him. Eyes widening while you picked up the fragile piece of jewelry, the square shaped ruby that was held in it's crooked cold casing shook a little bit. Just showing how old it was, seeing as it was loose from it's original frame.

"Huh? Yeah, sure. Call me when you're done?" He asked, standing up from the Booth and waiting for Damian to get up and get out of the booth so he could move out and leave the Bookstore. Damian had a triumphant smirk on his face that he dind't even bother hiding, knowing you weren't looking at you were more fixated on this ring. It was meant for Jaime to see, and the arrogance seemed to radiate off of him as he slung his right arm behind the booth and crossed his right leg over his other.

Jaimes silvery blue eyes that seemed more of a grey in reality, only narrowed on Damian in the form of a cold glare as a retort for this. Seeing Damian so arrogant like that just annoyed him, and he's for sure pretty damn glad he's going to be leaving the Academy knowing full well he won't have any classes with Damian, let alone be in the same school as him. Sure, Jaime will miss seeing you in school. But he'll stop by the Bookstore as often as he can to hang out with you. Plus, the both of you text each other often. And apparently, you've told him that you're good at keeping in contact with friends that have moved or just friends that you've moved away from.

"Yeah I'll do that." You mumbled, examining every single inch of the ring just to make sure it wasn't a fake. Just to make sure Damian wasn't being cruel and thought of this as some sort of sick joke, maybe.

You sat in silence for a couple moments, while Damian got up and moved out of the booth to let Jaime out instead of making him climb over the back of it. But when Damian stay back down, he didn't stay down for long.

You had shoved the ring in your pocket, all the while scowling. Getting up from your seat and grabbing Damian by the back of his jacket and practically dragging him outsider of the Bookstore in the rain.

Your fingers hooked tightly through the fabric of his thick coat, all of this catching him by surprise when he made a loud choking sound due to you pulling back so hard it pulled against his throat. He quickly got himself under control, turning around and walking at a fast pace by your side so you weren't literally dragging him outside of the bookstore.

"(Y/n) unhand me right now." He let out a mutter of words, the distress could be evidently heard in his voice.
"Yeah, that's the plan." You mumbled in response, not bothering to make this sound threatening.

But it's happening again.

You're slowly feeling your hands go tighter around the fabric of Damians coat, and pull harder. You Slowly start to feel your legs carry your body faster out the door, as if you're trying to start running. But right now, it's a fast pace. And your strides are long and you're swinging your arms angrily while you're stomping towards the open door, the heavy rain can be heard even this far away.

"Did you steal this from me?!" You practically threw him into the rain, but seeing as this was Damian? He quickly caught his balance at the sudden feeling of you jerking him around by the collar of his jacket and landed on both feet, not his back of his face.

You really caught him off guard, he wasn't expecting you to be that strong. Not that he thinks you're weak, he knows you're an excellent fencer. He even respects that part of you. But this? If he was really out of it, you could have definitely dragged him on the ground by the collar of his jacket and literally throw him if you really were trying.

And it's a mental note he's going to make towards himself that fencing is not your only strong point.

"What? Don't be ridiculous, I wouldn't steal from you-" He began speaking, but you cut him off.
"Then where the hell did you get this. I want an answer now, Damian." you shouted at him, slamming the bookstore door shut hard enough for the slam to echo through the building and shake the glass. Stepping a foot forwards, the black boot you wore went straight into a muddy puddle while you jabbed an index finger towards his chest.
"Don't speak to me like I'm the one at fault here." He yelled back, grabbing your wrist and shoving it away from him. He's got these angry eyes, they're sharp and they're mean. He's pissed, and it's obvious in his features. Features that are so familiar to you, but you can't place it.

Only speak when you are spoken to, you intolerable child.

A woman's voice running through your head is what freezes you up, making you stutter on the words you meant to say. Which never fully left your mouth, but it's the shock of the way Damian sounded that sent another person's words through your head. someone who you learned to fear, but someone who you managed to forget.

The scars on your back feel like they're burning, like it's all fresh still. Like they aren't faded anymore, but still as obvious to see even through the clothes you wear. And suddenly it's like you feel humiliated to even be standing in public knowing it feels like everyone can see them. And it feels painful, but you're standing still in the shock while that womans voice keeps repeating through your head. Echoing off the walls of your skull until your hands are moving on their own, reaching up to your scalp and gripping locks of your hair.

"(l/n)?" Damian asked, his voice stern but still showing signs of slight concern for you.

You take a step back, closing your eyes and scratching your head while hiding your face and pointing it towards the ground. Shaking your head once or twice, it's so loud. And the rain is pouring down even harder, wetting your hair down to your head while strands stick to the side of your face.

"(Y/n)!" This time, he doesn't use your last name. Getting louder, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you a little bit. That is until your hands drop to your sides, only to smack his own away. A quiet and muttered 'Don't touch me', escapes your lips while you shove your open palms against Damian's chest to push him away.

"I didn't steal the ring, I found it in a dumpster." He lied, but to you? This was believable. Of course he lied, though. what was he suppose to say?

'Oh, yeah. By the way I stole your ring off of some Detective new in the police department while I was with Batman working on a case. Why? Because I'm Robin and this was just my assumption that it was yours and not just another ring like it.'

Of course he couldn't say that, for obvious reasons.

There was a long silence between the two of you, the only sound was the rain hitting the ground and an alley cat in the distance clawing through garbage. Knocking over a trash can that you know you're going to have to pick up later. Hands limp at your sides, and Damians in his pockets.

The rains left a single lock of his dark hair seeming even darker, dangling between bright emerald eyes against the bridge of his nose. It's fairly cold out here, and you're slightly shaking and shivering because of it. Yet Damian seems fine and alright with how it is out here. Maybe because all you're wearing is a thin grey sweater and some faded blue jeans. At this point, they're more of a dark blue than a light blue.

"A dumpster?" You asked, biting on your lower lip slightly while you kept trying to keep your focus on something, anything. Because right now, it's starting to feel really easy to start dazing out. And you're aware of what happens when it gets like that, and you're aware of how bad things can get if that happens.

Damain only nodded, and there was no more sounds after that. Nobody said anything, nobody even moved.

You'd been so angry with Damian, that you didn't notice all the texts you were getting. At first you assumed it was Jaime, but when you pulled your phone out of your pocket and wiped the water off the screen from the drops of rain, you noticed they were all from Lea and Mason.

"Is this honestly a good time to be checking your phone? I have questions too, starting with those swords-"
"Shut up a minute." You mumbled, right as soon as Mason was trying to call you.

This was the third missing call from him. That shows you how loud you and Damian were yelling at eachother out here.

"Don't tell me the shut up, that's completely-"
"Yeah? Then hush up. I'm on the phone." you cut him off, answering the call from Mason.

Damian scoffed loudly, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.

Mason on the other hand? He was panting as if he'd just gotten done running miles on end without water, which raised some suspicions in your head at first.

"Mason, what's wrong? Are you okay? Why do you sound so out of breath?" Of course, you get called the mom friend out of the entire group for a reason. And it's bombing your friends with questions on how they are the second you find them in any form of distress.

"Dude, you need to check your phone more often. We kept sending you pictures because there's no way you'd believe this," It was Lea, yelling into the phone. Must be on speaker. but it's loud enough for Damian to hear every word clearly, but you're more focused on why the two sound so distressed right now for that to matter.

"Your dad was in Portland not even an hour ago, and he's looking for you and your mom."