"I am not here because I wish to be," Damian grumbled very quietly, keeping his eyes glued to the tiny slit on the locker's door. "I would much prefer not to be here, in fact. But now that we are here, I would appreciate it if you stopped squirming."

The locker was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone both of them. That the mission had gone wrong was entirely Damian's fault, he knew; he should've grabbed the files he was there for and left. And he would've, too, if he hadn't spotted his ex—whom he'd broken up with for hiding a working relationship with the mafia from him—running for dear life, chased by a plethora of goons.

His ex had been unarmed and clearly outnumbered. Damian couldn't just sit idly by, even if this was a criminal and a liar. So he'd yanked his ex into a side room, shoved them both in the closet, and hid.

The goons had been close, but fortunately, they hadn't noticed the pair hiding. Unfortunately, they were still nearby. Even more unfortunately, that left Damian and his ex trapped inside a small space together, pressed together so close Damian was blushing up to his ears.

"Could you at least try not to breathe so hard?" he whispered, trying very hard to focus on the sounds coming from the hallway instead of the warmth coming from his locker companion. He hated that his heart still fluttered in his ex's presence. This person had lied to him! Damian was better than this. Better than...whatever it was he was feeling. "And your knee is digging into my side."