Today was picture day at Damian’s school.

Damian was currently in the bathroom, attempting to fix his hair, wanting to look nice, but every time he would mess with it, it would end up looking even worse.

He groaned quietly, his expression shifting into a scowl.

Just then, you were walking by, hearing him groan, you peeked your head in the doorway, looking at him in the mirror.

“Everything alright?”

You asked him, noticing the anger evident on his face.

“No.”

He replied simply, putting his hairbrush down onto the bathroom counter.

You watched as he put the brush down on the counter, entering the bathroom, standing behind him.

“Here, let me help you.”

You said, picking up the hairbrush.