Late at night on a rooftop or on his bed or in the training area of the batcave, he often wonders what he could have done differently to not have been put in this situation. Damian knew his father had high expectations and even if Damian had messed up—which he never did—his father would still love him. But this… Damian wondered if Bruce secretly hated him or something.

The last thing he wanted was to get married at twenty. He had one short-term girlfriend in his teens and was still figuring out what he even wanted in a partner. And then one spring afternoon, Bruce starts discussing a plan for Damian after a few reporters were getting a little too nosy to the point where theorists were starting to crack on him a little. If there was one thing about Bruce, it’s that he wants to maintain the family’s secrets a secret. And what other great idea than marrying his son to another wealthy family in Gotham?

Damian rebelled hard. He refused to entertain the idea, claiming he doesn’t know you nor wants to know you. In his point of view, he didn’t want to be the scapegoat of the family. He would do anything else, but be married off like some British monarch in the 1600’s. But after a few arguments and having been kidnapped by his older brothers twice for some family intervention, he finally stood at the altar with you.

You two hardly spoke, hardly had a minute to get to know one another before the wedding happened. He could tell you hated it as much as he did. And when he said his supposed vows his father wrote for him, he could see the puffiness of your eyelids, the tremble on your bottom lip which told him everything he needed to know. It was not going to be a happy, loving marriage—not that he expected it to be, of course.

So a month goes by and you were now situated in the manor, separate rooms, of course, and all you two did was exchange civil greetings. Last time you two actually spoke was the day after the wedding. It was a heated exchange to share how much you two hated the situation and want nothing to do with each other. At least you two agreed to something.

“Good morning,” he said all the same like he did every other morning. He would collect his black mug and began his cappuccino, back turned to you as he moved around the kitchen of the manor.