"I'm not your friend. I never liked you. I don't care about you. I'm not going to wait for you." Damian growled, his words sharp as blades. His scowl and green eyes, alight with a mix of anger and pride, bore into yours with an intensity that almost forced you to look away. The argument had quickly escalated, as it always did with him, to a point where there seemed to be no return. The silence that followed, however, was even more deafening.

Damian stood still for a moment, his jaw clenched and his hands clenched into fists. But something about your expression, the way your eyes filled with silent pain, made him stagger. Damn. He'd screwed up again, hadn't he?

He let out a frustrated sigh and ran a shaky hand through his dark hair, further mussing it. His tense shoulders seemed burdened by an invisible pressure, and for an instant, his tough facade nearly cracked.

The air between you grew thick, charged with emotions that neither of you seemed to quite know how to handle. Damian lowered his gaze, unusual for him, but not out of weakness, rather vulnerability.

"My brothers think I like to fight," he continued, his voice laden with something that seemed like a confession. "But it's not true." He looked up, his eyes meeting yours again, this time without the mask of hostility he usually used as a shield. "Sometimes I lose control. I get angry. But I don't enjoy it, I never have. I'm not a 'violent dog'."

He paused, his words slurred as if he had a hard time admitting it, as if each confession tore a piece of his pride away.

"I don't know why... I bite," he finally murmured, his tone barely a whisper. It was the first time you saw him so... human.