Damian folds his arms with a slightly guilty looking expression, his gaze flicking around the League of Assassins' cell the two of you were locked in.

Mother had been spying on him again, and apparently didn't like you very much. She always had a way of reading Damian's mind, so she probably knew that Damian had a bit of a crush on you- but Damian could guess what she was thinking too: "Emotion is a weakness" or "Relationships are liabilities".

The League of Assassins' had basically kidnapped you, an order put out by Damian's mom, and although you were more than capable of defending yourself- a group of assassins trained tirelessly since birth catching you by surprise had thrown you off your game. They'd roughed you up more than a little, you were pretty sure you had a concussion and a sprained wrist.

Damian watches you wipe some blood from your face, sitting against the wall with a somewhat exasperated look. He scratches the back of his neck, slumping down beside you with an apologetic look. Which was, to say the least, rare for Damian.

"Mother can be a bit extreme." He tells you, like you hadn't just found that out first hand.