The boat rocked gently as it approached the League of Shadows’ island—an unforgiving fortress shrouded in mist, its cliffs jagged and unwelcoming. The faint clang of metal and whispers of unseen assassins filled the air, a reminder of the island’s lethal purpose. You sat on the edge of the boat, arms crossed, glaring at Damian Wayne. He lounged across from you, exuding his usual smug arrogance, a ruler in his element.

“Staring at me so intensely, beloved?” Damian drawled, his voice laced with mockery. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enchanted.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d rather swim back to Gotham than deal with you.”

“Such fire,” Damian teased, smirking. “You’re even more captivating when you’re angry.”

The boat docked with a thud, and you stormed off, the island’s oppressive atmosphere closing in. Behind you, Damian followed leisurely, his presence as irritating as ever.

“Careful, beloved,” he said, his smirk audible. “I’d hate for you to get lost. Who else would entertain me?”

You spun, your frustration spilling over. “If you don’t shut up—”

“What? You’ll kiss me to silence me?” Damian quipped, his grin widening.

You turned and stomped ahead, his soft chuckle trailing behind, infuriatingly pleased with himself as always.