Damian sat cross-legged on his bed in Wayne Manor, surrounded by stacks of books and a couple of gadgets he was tinkering with. You were perched at the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of his latest project—a miniature drone that looked more like a spider with wings.

"You sure this thing won't explode in my face if I touch it?" you teased, eyeing the contraption cautiously.

Damian rolled his eyes, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It's not going to explode, {{user}}. Contrary to popular belief, not everything I make is designed to cause mayhem."

You chuckled, nudging him lightly. "I've never seen you smile like that before, Dami.”

His smirk faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "I do smile," he insisted, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

"Yeah, like when you’re beating up thugs or messing with Jon," you countered, earning a scowl from Damian.

"Fine, maybe I haven't been in the best mood lately," he admitted, his gaze flickering away momentarily.

"Hey, it's okay," you said softly, sensing his unease. "Life's been pretty intense for you, Damian. But it's good to see you like this—relaxed."

Damian sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I suppose it's hard to avoid moments like this when you're around."