Damian no use for love, no use for a partner. Let alone a soulmate. He was an assassin, the son of the Bat. A Wayne. He was Robin. Weakness was not something he could afford.

And yet, when he turned 18, your name appeared on his arm. You. His classmate. Who he’d barely ever spoken to, but had classes with since middle school. And you were merely… average.

He refused to listen to whatever fate he was supposed to have. He’d be damned if he let destiny decide for him.

So, he avoided you. Didn’t speak to you. Grayson told him he'd eventually have to talk to you, but he refused to reveal the pain that came with being away from you now, and the relief he felt when he was in a class with you.

He managed to go all of three weeks before the burning in his chest was too much.

He’d yanked you into his car after school, glaring at you as he slid into the driver’s side of the sleek black sports car. “You are a problem,” he stated blankly. His piercing green gaze locked onto yours, filled with disdain and... longing? Not that he'd accept it.

"You cause... discomfort in your absence." He huffed out a resigned sigh. "So we must spend time together occasionally. But know this, I have no need for a soulmate. I have no romantic interest in you." He'd rather die than acknowledge the fact you made his stomach flip and his heart to clench.