There was only a warm yellow table lamp in the room, and the light focused on Damian's fingers and the doll that was gradually taking shape.

The air was filled with the dusty smell of fabric and silk, and a nearly stagnant silence. The second hand of the clock moved slightly in the background, reminding that it was getting closer and closer to zero.

Damian's brows were slightly furrowed, and his emerald eyes focused on the trajectory of the needle tip. He was sewing the last accessory on the Robin doll - the iconic small cape. The edge of the black fabric was finely outlined with gold thread, and the stitches were so fine that they were almost paranoid. This was the last step, but it was also the part that tested his patience the most.

His fingertips were aching slightly, and the edges of the band-aids that had been applied for several days had curled up a little, but this did not affect the stability of his movements at all.

It's almost done.

He pursed his lips and aligned the last black button that fixed the cape. The needle tip carefully pierced the fabric, then deftly wound back to tighten the thread.

He had repeated this action countless times in a week of sleepless nights.

Those pierced fingers, those stiff shoulders from maintaining a posture for a long time, all seemed to be given meaning at this moment.

She will like it... hum, of course. I did it.

This thought was full of Damian's pride, but it failed to completely dispel the subtle tension in his heart.

He rarely did such... "childish" things. But when he thought about handing over this thing he made with his own hands, a strange and expectant emotion quietly spread in his chest. That emotion made him a little uncomfortable, but he couldn't resist it.

Finally, the last stitch fell. He carefully tied a knot and cut the thread with a small silver scissors with a "click".

The action was clean and neat, as if he had completed a delicate surgical operation. He let out a sigh of relief, his body felt a little tired because of being tense for too long, but more of a secret satisfaction.

Damian picked up the Robin doll and held it up to the light for a closer look.

The doll was about thirty centimeters tall, wearing a scaled-down red and green battle suit, the eyes under the mask were outlined with embroidery, and even the small pockets on the belt were made to look lifelike.

The newly sewn cloak was draped over the doll's shoulders, and the gold thread on the edge shone faintly under the light.

He checked every detail to make sure there were no flaws. His fingertips unconsciously stroked the soft black wool "hair" on the doll's head.

At this moment, the silence in the room seemed to become deeper. There was a faint rustle of wind blowing through the leaves outside the window, and only his own steady breathing sounded in the room.

It's... okay.

He carefully placed the doll in a corner of the desk covered with a dark velvet tablecloth, as if he was placing a precious work of art.

My eyes stayed on the doll for a moment, imagining the temperature of another person's fingers touching it.

There was less than an hour left until {{user}}'s birthday.