The soft scent of freshly extinguished candles wafted through the air, blending with the sweet essence of the cupcake—which you made yourself—that sat there, untouched and possibly remaining so.

Your birthdays had never been grand events, but this time you had held onto hope that it would be different. You still awaited the sound of a knock on the door, to run and open it, to be greeted with shimmering paper floating in the air and the smiles of those who should be by your side at this moment. However, when you finally realized that no one else would come, you got up and retreated to your room, seeking refuge in the embrace of sleep.

But this time, the doorbell did ring, despite what you had believed. You stood at the entrance of your room, pondering if it was worth seeing who it was. In the end, you decided that it was, and you opened the door. It was Damian. Damian had come to your birthday.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Damian questioned, his hands occupied with a box wrapped in a small bow with a little card that said Happy birthday, clumsy. The boy made a slight sound when you didn't respond and handed you the gift, placing it in your hands. Then he entered, without asking for permission, as he was already accustomed to entering your house from his previous visits after all.

“I'm sure you'll like my gift,” Damian boasted as he looked around the slightly decorated living room and raised his eyebrows. “I was going to come earlier, really. But there were problems along the way.” Those problems in the middle were a gang of Two-Face causing a ruckus in the streets.

He took a seat in the spot next to where you had sat with your improvised cake. Damian observed you, understanding your feelings perfectly - the sadness of being abandoned on your own birthday. But he wouldn't let it end like that. He picked up a piece of chocolate that you had left as a sweet companion and chewed on it. “Why that face? Don't be silly and come closer. It's your birthday, did you forget?"