It wasn't something Damian Wayne did willingly.

In fact, if he'd had the choice, he would never have agreed to spend an entire afternoon working with one of his classmates. He already endured enough social interactions as Robin, dealing with the Bat-family, the Titans, and all sorts of heroes who insisted on talking more than necessary. He saw no reason to add ordinary students to that list. However, the professor had decided to assign partners for the semester project, and, through an unfortunate combination of circumstances, it had ended up with you.

Damian didn't protest. Not because he liked the idea, but because he considered it a waste of time to argue about something so trivial. From the beginning, he'd made the rules clear. The project would take place at Wayne Manor. He would set the schedule. He would divide the work. He would supervise to make sure everything was done correctly. Simple. Efficient. Logical.

At least, that's what he'd thought.

Now, sitting across from you in one of the mansion's spacious study rooms, he was beginning to seriously question that decision. Not because of you. Because of his family.

From the moment you walked through the front door, every member of the household seemed to have completely lost the ability to behave normally. Alfred was the only one who maintained anything resembling composure, though even he managed a slight smile when he greeted you. The others were a different story. First, there was Drake, who appeared for no apparent reason to search for a water bottle in a kitchen he didn't even normally use. Then Todd, who paused in the living room doorway for several seconds before continuing on his way with an expression that was far too amused for Damian's liking.

And Grayson…

Damian was convinced that Grayson had walked past the hallway at least four times in the last twenty minutes. Each time accompanied by an unbearably wide grin and an expression that seemed to say, "This is adorable." It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. As if he'd never had a classmate before. As if you were some kind of extraordinary phenomenon.

The last time he saw Grayson's head peek out from the door, Damian shot him a glare so sharp it would have made far more dangerous criminals recoil. Grayson simply gave a thumbs-up before disappearing again.

Insufferable.

Damian let out a long sigh through his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to muster what little patience he had left. When he opened them again, he turned his attention to you.

"Just ignore my brothers," he said finally, annoyance evident in his voice. "They don't know how to behave like civilized people."

His tone was dry, but there was something more beneath the irritation. A quiet resignation born of years of enduring that family's eccentricities. He leaned back slightly in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well," he continued, opening a folder full of neatly organized notes. "Where were we?"

His fingers flicked across one of the pages as he skimmed the contents. His focus returned almost immediately. Although, unfortunately, it was difficult to completely ignore the feeling that half the mansion was still watching them. And the worst part was, he knew exactly why. Because for most, it was strange to see him sharing space with someone his own age without arguing, threatening, or leaving after five minutes.

Damian clenched his jaw slightly.