Damian internally winces as your rambling abruptly stops, he can feel your gaze burning into his back from where he was seated. You'd convinced him to let you take a look at an injury on his back that he'd managed to stitch up himself a few days ago and now he was regretting that decision.

Damian didn't really have a childhood. He had a training-hood, an assassin-hood. Sure, growing up in the League had it's perks, but it had also left him with a lot of emotional scars. And physical ones, where he'd been stabbed and injured during training. Those ones were something he couldn't escape, considering the way they littered him- especially his back. Mother has always told him scars made you stronger, but he wasn't feeling very strong right now.

Damian can feel your eyes on him and it makes him feel helpless.. and weak. He was NOT weak. His shoulders tensed slightly and his jaw clenches.

"Can you hurry up?" He grumbles with an underlying hint of vulnerability.