NOW,

"I'M STOPPING BY at the end of the week," Remiel murmured. "Don't want to come running back all the time. Give myself some space to get comfortable in Bludhaven first."

Odile nodded. It was the logical decision. Dick's car was already waiting downstairs, and he himself was talking to Bruce somewhere else in the house while Remiel sat in the library with Odile. She'd been reading when the older woman had found her.

Remiel continued. "Have you finished packing yet?"

"I have. I'm just waiting here now for Damian to arrive. Told me he didn't have to, but he insisted on picking me up."

Remiel's lips curled upwards. "How gentlemanly of him."

"He's nice. He's always been nice."

"Nice is not the word most people would use to describe Damian Wayne."

Odile shrugged casually. "And so people keep telling me. But at any rate, he's nice to me."

Remiel sighed. "I suppose he has. You ready for this?" She sounded genuinely worried that Odile wouldn't be able to manage moving out and living on her own. She was like a mother hen clucking over her chicks, and Odile wasn't sure if she ought to be offended by Remiel's lack of faith, or amused.

"I was living by myself when you first met me, and I did just fine."

"But it's been so many years." Remiel pouted. "You're just mocking me now."

"No, I'm being logical." Odile rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine, Remiel. Not like I'm going off to live in the middle of the forest again. If I'm hungry, there's restaurants I can eat at. If I'm lonely, I can knock on Damian's door and go bother him until he relents and lets me in. If I'm really bored, I can drive back here to this nice, big house and bother Bruce. If I'm really, really bored, I can go onto the streets and beat some thugs up."

Remiel did not look convinced. "Right."

Odile pinched her nose. "I don't have to clean my own place because I'm getting a cleaner over once a week. I can do my laundry. I can cook basic meals. I can take care of myself, Rem."

"Fine. But you know why I'm worried."

"Because you've been living with me all these years, and now you're not. Need I remind you the amount of times I ran away and managed on my own?"

"You rarely run away for more than a couple weeks," Remiel replied with a brow raised. "The only time it was more than a month, you spent almost all that time with the League of Assassins. Hardly on your own."

Odile snorted. "That was the time I was fourteen, wasn't it?"

"You know it was."

Odile tilted her head. "I did enjoy that period of my life, though."

"What, living among the assassins?"

"It felt like the old days. When I was still living with the Eyu Sect. I know it sounds weird." Remiel had left the League for a reason. It had taken her quite a bit of effort to do so. And she knew that if Seraphina was truly given the choice to, she'd turn her back to the League without question too.

But she'd never been given that choice. Not really.

But truthfully? Odile had enjoyed it. Not the killing part. She didn't like killing people, but Seraphina made sure she was never the one who had to do it. All the killing, they did when she wasn't around. It sometimes didn't even dawn on her until afterwards.

When was the last time she'd seen Seraphina? Three years ago. That fateful summer when everything had happened.

Seraphina hadn't visited since then. If Remiel thought that was strange, she'd never verbalised it. Better off that day.

Or perhaps Seraphina had told Remiel what happened? But it wasn't in Remiel's character to not talk to Odile about it. That wasn't who she was. Odile doubted it.

"I won't act like I understand that." Remiel shook her head. "But sure. But you're certain you're ready?"

"Look." Odile flashed a grin. "I have Damian within screaming distance, yeah? If I ever need him, I'll just go find him. Really, I'll be okay. And you won't be that far away from me anyways. You can get here in just around half an hour."

Remiel reached over and pinched Odile's cheek. Odile gasped in fake outrage, swatting her hand away. "I'm not an infant anymore!"

"I never knew you while you were an infant," Remiel replied archly. "I'll pinch your cheeks when I want. Consider it repayment for the last eight years."

Odile made a face. "You're so annoying. I'm glad I'm moving away."

Remiel's expression softened. "No you're not."

No, she was not. She would miss Remiel, as much as she wanted her own privacy. But she'd survive. She wanted this anyways. It wasn't as if she couldn't insist on moving in with Remiel and Dick.

But then again she was nineteen. And she needed to start making her own decisions in life.

(As if she hadn't been doing that for the past ten years already.)

"Do you need help moving the remaining stuff in your room down?" Remiel asked, tilting her head.

Odile shook her head. "Just a duffel bag. Don't worry. I already have everything else waiting in the penthouse."

Remiel made a "tut-tut" sound. "Imagine. A penthouse. While Dick and I have to live in one apartment."

"Not like you can't upgrade," Odile pointed out. "Even if he doesn't have the money, you certainly do."

"We might eventually. Not a massive penthouse, mind you, but just a couple more rooms, maybe. A bit larger."

"In case you want to start a family?" Odile asked pointedly.

Remiel let out a loud laugh. "Ha! Maybe. Don't know if I want to go through pregnancy and all that, though. Maybe I'll just adopt a kid instead."

"As with Wayne family tradition." Odile sighed. "Considering both you and Dick were adopted... yeah, it does make sense, doesn't it?"

"But we'll decide then." Remiel shrugged. "Don't think I'm ready for it yet. Neither is he."

"You're both young. Any plans of marriage, though?"

"Not yet." Remiel pursed her lips. "But are we that young? I'm thirty this year. Do I want to go on and on like Bruce and Selina?"

"You're nothing like Bruce and Selina, though. They have so much between them. The two of you aren't constantly on different sides. And you've been stable for almost all the time I've known you." There were a few times when it felt like they'd almost grown apart, but there'd be a call in the middle of the night—Odile would be able to hear Remiel crying through the walls, but then two days later Dick would be at their door.

Once, it had been Remiel who went off to find Dick. She'd been gone for a whole month, and Odile was left to her own devices. Thank god. She'd gotten a lot done in that time.

"Maybe." Remiel sighed. "We've never lived together for so long, though. Who knows? We'll see."

"Have some faith," Odile giggled. "You're too realistic. This kind of thing doesn't have anything to do with logic and rationality sometimes. It's just feelings. Let yourself enjoy what it is now and not worry about what it will be."

"Coming from you, the dreamer." Remiel sighed. "You're such a hopeless romantic, you know that?"

"It's because of you and Dick." Odile rolled her eyes. "I have such a model couple beside me, how could I not be a hopeless romantic?"

"Yet no one has yet caught your fancy."

Odile just raised one brow. "Because I'm a hopeless dreamer. My standards are high."

"Has anyone ever met this standards?"

Surely, Remiel had a clue? There wasn't a chance Remiel had no idea that Odile had a crush on Damian. She would have at least suspected it at one point. But there was nothing teasing in her expression. Genuine curiosity.

Odile shrugged. "Don't know."

"Don't know?"

"I haven't had many chances to fall in love." Between being already in love. The transition from puppy love into a genuine crush was an interesting one. Sometimes, Odile wondered if she idolised Damian more than she loved him romantically. Saw him as some type of god, someone to look up to.

But at the same time, she'd catch herself staring at him when she thought he wasn't noticing. Studying every feature of his face, pondering, imagining, and sometimes when they stood too close together her heart would start pounding faster. It couldn't just be admiration. It couldn't be.

"Fair enough." Remiel sighed. She didn't look like she was planning on pressing any further. "I'll go now, before Dick comes looking for me. Give me a hug?"

Odile grinned, edging over, and the two shared a quick hug. Remiel took the chance to stroke her hair. "Look at you, all grown up."

"Nineteen," Odile said, flashing a smile. "Next year I'll be twenty."

"I was twenty-three when I first met you. My god it's been ages."

"I'll come visit you two when I have the time. Unless you don't want me to." Odile laughed. "Go. Damian's picking me up in half an hour. Alfred told me he's giving me enough food to stock my fridge up for a while, so I need to get that from him too."

"Take good care of yourself, yeah?" Remiel paused. "Seraphina can't really... visit us here, but Shan Ling told me she might stop by the last time I talked to her."

"I doubt it." Odile wrinkled her nose. As Remiel's aunt, Shan Ling was also leader of the Yuannan Mountain Sect when Remiel wasn't around, which was most of the time. She had no reason to come to Gotham. "She hates Gotham."

"Fair enough." Remiel shrugged. "But if you miss her..."

"If I miss her, I'll go find her." Odile grinned. "Right now, I have everyone I need around me. Stop worrying. I'll be okay."

Finally, Remiel looked assured. She gave a nod, releasing a sigh once more as she gave Odile a one over. Then she said, "I heard you want to throw a charity gala? Remember to send me an invitation when that happens."

"Of course!" Odile laughed, bewildered. "I wouldn't dare to not do that. I'll see you soon, Remiel. Now go, before Dick gets worried."

With one last hug, Remiel left the library. Odile sat back down for a few more minutes before standing up.

Off to the kitchen she went, where Alfred was already waiting, three bags on the counter. He gave a nod of greeting as she entered. "Miss Odile. I've already packed up the food. It should be enough to last you a week. I'm happy to help you with shopping in the future as well."

"No, no. It's fine." Odile laughed. "I can manage. I might come here for a meal or two every once in a while though. What have you gotten me?"

"The first bag is mostly premade food for convenience. For late nights. Along with some snacks. The second and third bags are vegetables and meat respectively. I've already ordered a bag of rice for you, it should be in the lobby of your building."

"Thank you, Alfred. You're the best. I'm sure I've told you that before, but I'll tell you that again." Odile gave one of the bags a lift. Not that heavy. She could probably move all three along with her duffel bag to Damian's car without accident.

"I can assist you with moving them if you require it?"

"No, I'll be fine." Odile gave him a comforting nod. "The cleaner comes in every Monday, yeah?"

"Yes. Someone trustworthy, but I'd still keep anything incriminating out of sight and out of reach."

"Of course." Odile wasn't planning on leaving anything suspicious lying around her penthouse. All of that would go to the base. "I'll be careful, don't worry. It's not like I can leave any weapons lying around."

Alfred raised a brow. "I suppose that's true, Miss Odile. But your suit, still."

"I'm not that uncareful," Odile snorted. "Have some faith in me."

"I always have faith in you, Miss Odile, I just like to be careful."

The doorbell rang then, and Alfred tilted his head. "That would be Master Damian, I think?"

"I suppose so." Odile moved towards the door. "Don't worry, I'll get it."

Sure enough, it was Damian standing outside the door of Wayne Manor when she finally got there. One brow arched, he asked, "Are you ready?"

"I just need to get my duffel bag down. And I have food in the kitchen from Alfred."

"I'll go to the kitchen, then. You get your bag. Meet me down here."

Or, well, that worked. Made her life a bit easier, she supposed. She didn't argue, heading off to the stairs to head up to her room—perhaps not exactly her room now, though she expected they'd still keep it the way it was. The only thing she'd taken with her from the furniture was that painting of Gotham above the bed.

God, she loved that painting. She'd done it when she was fifteen.

But now the wall looked a little empty as she regarded the room she'd lived in for all these summers. Odile let out a quiet sigh.

This was another chapter of her life closed, another chapter of her life started. It was something to look forward to.

Odile shook her head. Reached for the duffel bag on the ground, hefted it up to her shoulders. A little bit on the heavy side, but she was a superhero. She could manage a bit of weight.

And then she left the room, closing the door shut behind her.

Like he'd said, he was waiting for her at the foyer, holding two bags in one hand and one in the other. He handed her one. "Hold this? I need to start my car."

"Yeah, sure." She grabbed it, and they headed out of the manor. The sun was shining brilliantly today, and Odile squinted to see clearer. Damian's sleek black vehicle was parked right in the centre of the driveway. He opened the backseat.

"This should be big enough. No need for the boot."

She agreed, shoving the bags in before slamming the door shut. Then, she slipped into the passenger's seat in the front.

Damian came in the car a moment later, strapping on his seat belt before casting a glance at her. "Everything good, yeah?"

"Yep." She gave a nod. "All set. Let's go."

A moment later they were going through the gates of Wayne Manor, and Damian said, "I'm happy to help you unpack all your stuff. Don't have anything to do today."

"I'm sure it's fine," Odile said, shaking her head. "It's just a few suitcases, really."

"I'm making pho for dinner tonight. I'll make extra for you too? I'll give you a text when it's ready."

Odile blinked. She'd been expecting to eat some of the premade food Alfred had given her tonight. "Yeah, sure." She wasn't about to turn down an offer for proper food. "About what time would that be?"

"Seven-ish? That alright with you?"

She glanced at her watch—a seventeenth birthday present from Remiel, actually. It was just past two. "Yeah, works with me." Five hours should be more than enough for her to properly settle down.

If not, she'd just continue after dinner.

—

THERE WAS SOMETHING comforting about unpacking. Her suitcases were all laid out on the ground—all pink, thank you, mostly already empty. She'd moved the duffel bag upstairs, to her bedroom, since that was mostly stuff like skincare and clothes.

She was mostly done. And it was nearing the seven o'clock mark. All she needed was to set up her little art studio (which really didn't need to be done today anyways), and take a nice, long shower. And a nice facemask for her skin (it was so dry, she desperately needed hydration), and some body scrub for exfoliation. Maybe a hair mask as well? Ooh, maybe she should paint her nails—she'd bought a cute Japanese sakura pink nail polish before she'd left Hong Kong, and she hadn't tried it yet. Maybe now was the time.

She'd plan it all out later. As if just on time, her phone chimed. Text message from Damian. Ready in five. Come over now if you want.

Odile stood up from where she was kneeling on the ground, trying to sort out some last bags of clothes, stretching her arms as she did so. Bloody hell. And she was a bit dizzy from kneeling all that much. She yawned before sending a reply. Coming!

She retied her hair with her velvet scrunchie, ignoring the fact it was knotty and messy (he'd seen her in worse states, really, and if her looks were going to do anything to make him like her, it would have happened already), washed her hands and left her penthouse, walking down the corridor and knocking on his.

He opened the door a moment later. "Just take a seat. I'm basically finished."

It smelt quite good. Odile wasn't a massive pho enthusiast, but she still liked it. She just wasn't crazy over it. She sat down at his breakfast bar since it felt awkward to sit down at that dining table over there (why did he need such a large dining table? She doubted he ever had anyone over except close family).

"Are you done unpacking?" he asked, casting a glance at her.

"Almost."

"I was wondering if you wanted to join me out tonight."

"It's not your duty night?"

"I like to go out most days of the week. Oh, and Jon called. He's coming over tomorrow afternoon."

"Nice! And here I was thinking I'd have to head to Metropolis to see him." Odile gave a nod of approval. "Sounds unfair, considering he's the one who can fly here so quickly."

"Saves us some gas money," Damian snorted, placing a bowl of pho with chopsticks before her. She didn't start eating yet. He followed with a bowl of his own beside her, but then headed to the fridge again. "Drinks?"

"Do you have anything not cold?" she asked.

He blinked. "I can make you a cup of tea?"

"I'd love that, if that's not too much. Thank you."

He started boiling some water, grabbing a cup and a teabag. While that was cooking, he poured himself some cold-brewed tea from the fridge.

Odile raised a brow. "You really love that, huh?"

He shrugged. "Habit from back in the League, having tea every day. Hot or cold, doesn't matter."

"Fair enough," Odile murmured.

He glanced at her. "Dig in. Don't bother waiting for me."

"Doesn't seem fair." Odile shrugged. "I have my manners, you know."

"Ah, here I was thinking you were a wild child."

She raised a brow. "I'm not a child anymore."

"Sure, Odile."

"You're just saying that because Dick and Jason still call you kid. The victim becomes the victimiser."

His eyes rolled. "Odile, I couldn't give less of a shit what Grayson and Todd says about me. We're brothers, they love bullying me, and I'll bully them right back. This has nothing to do with that. Don't try to psychoanalyse me."

"I'm just stating the obvious! And you're the scary psychoanalyser, not me!"

He smirked. "You don't see me doing that to you, do you?"

The kettle turned off automatically, and Damian moved to pour the water into the cup before placing it before her. "There you go."

Odile offered him a beam. "Thanks."

He nodded and sat down in the seat beside hers. "Considering you're not done packing... not heading out tonight, I suppose?"

"Don't think so." Odile shook her head. "I'll join you next time. Not today, sorry. Too tired, and too much to do."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure Drake and I will suffice anyways. And I think Stephanie will be there too."

"Are her and Tim...?"

"They're fine. Not even really awkward. They joke about it sometimes, don't worry about it."

Odile nodded. She'd assumed as much, but she wanted to make sure. "Well, good luck tonight, then. Be careful, don't get hurt."

Damian looked amused. "That's the last thing you have to worry about, Cygnet."

they're cute. 

(jon's coming next chapter.)