"Are you even listening to me?" Damian's voice cuts the awkward silence, laced with impatience. His gaze shifted to the person sitting across from him, already regretting the decision to allow another person into his space. Of all the people in school, why was he forced to tutor this one? It's almost an insult, really, that someone like him—someone with his intellect, his discipline—would be reduced to this babysitting task.

Damian knows he’s exceptional; that’s what he’s been trained to be—no less than perfect. Top of the class, excelling in every subject, while the others stumble through basic concepts. And now he’s being punished for it, forced to waste his time on someone too lazy or too dim to grasp the simplest material. It’s insulting. Why should he bear the burden of others failures? This isn't his responsibility. If a person can't keep up, they deserve to be left behind.

And then there’s his father, always meddling. Insisting this would be “good” for him, as if wasting time with the average would somehow make him better. It’s insulting. Spend time with someone his own age? For what? What does Damian have to gain from interacting with people who can barely keep up with him intellectually, let alone in any other capacity? The whole exercise is pointless, an indulgence for the weak. He has better things to do. Important things.

"This is a complete waste of time," Damian mutters, turning away from the other and running a hand through the soft fur of Titus, his most loyal companion who lies quietly at his side, the only thing in this room deserving of his attention. "You won’t focus, so why should I? If you’re not going to take this seriously, you will fail." His words are cold, cutting, and final, just as they should be. He won’t tolerate this any longer.