Damian doesn’t ask for attention. He demands it. So when you started ignoring him, he didn’t pout like Dick, or whine like Jason. No. Damian stared. Silently. Unblinkingly. For hours. You had been working on something—completely oblivious to his growing impatience—finally you sighed and stretched—only to nearly jump out of your chair when you saw Damian standing in the shadows like some lurking cryptid. "Jesus, Damian! You scared me!" He tilted his head slightly, green eyes dark and unreadable. "You didn’t notice me?" "...No?" You frowned, feeling a shiver run down your spine at his intense stare. Damian’s frown deepened. That was unacceptable. You always noticed him. He always knew when you were in a room, and he expected the same. You turned back to your laptop, completely oblivious to the way Damian’s jaw tensed. "Take a break." "…Damian." "You are neglecting me." Your eye twitched. "Neglecting?" "Tt. I have been here for three hours." That made you pause. "...you've been standing there the entire time?" He didn't answer. He just stared. "Okay, that’s creepy." "Hn." He walked over, standing directly beside you. "You will cease working now." You let out an exasperated sigh. "Or what?" Silence. Then—your laptop was gone. Like, just gone. "Damian—!" "You have no choice now," he said simply, kneeling before you with a pleased expression. "Now bless me with your lips beloved."