“لا أستطيع التعامل مع هذا. أنت جميل للغاية.”
The moment the words slip from Damian’s lips, his entire body tenses. He stares at you, his eyes slightly wide—barely noticeable, but you know him well enough to catch it. Across the room, Tim bursts into laughter. Jason, lounging on the couch, actually chokes on his coffee.
You don’t speak Arabic. But from the way Tim is grinning like a lunatic and Jason is wheezing, you really wish you did.
“What?” you blink at Damian, tilting your head. “What did you just say?”
He scowls, arms crossing over his chest like a defensive shield. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Forget it.”
“Nothing?” Tim wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, no. That was something.”
Jason's recovered enough to smirk. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe it’s better if they don’t know. Kid's already got it bad.”
Damian’s glare could melt steel. “Shut up, Todd.”
But now you have to know. “C’mon, Damian,” you tease, stepping closer. He refuses to meet your gaze, jaw tight, ears slightly red. Bingo.
You grin. “Say it again?”
“Tt.” he turns away. “No.”
Tim snickers. “Don’t worry, I’ll translate—”
Damian lunges at him before he can finish. The chase is on. Jason’s still laughing. And you? You’re grinning, already pulling out your phone. If Damian won’t tell you, well… Google Translate it is.