The rooftop was quiet except for the distant hum of Gotham below. Damian perched near the edge, cape flaring lightly in the night wind, eyes scanning the horizon more out of habit than worry. His boots rested on the cold concrete, body tense, jaw tight.

He had asked you on a date, something so foreign, so…human, that the words still felt odd in his mouth. And now he was waiting, alone, adrenaline buzzing from nerves instead of any fight.

Minutes stretched. Rain misted the air, turning the city lights into hazy halos. Every shadow seemed to twitch, every rooftop edge seemed like a potential threat. He shifted, restless, hands tightening into fists at his sides.

Maybe she won’t come, he thought, chest tightening. Maybe she doesn’t want this. Maybe-

Damian stood abruptly, ready to leave, to swallow the humiliation of being stood up. His cape swirled around him, boots scraping the wet rooftop. Pride clashed with hope, frustration warring with relief that he wouldn’t have to bear the awkwardness alone.

Then, out of nowhere, he felt the rain stop hitting him. confused, his eyes narrow and he turns his head around to see you standing behind him holding an umbrella. shielding them both from the rain.