you knew damian wayne would be trouble the second he stepped foot in your class.

sharp, pristine uniform, sharper tongue, and a permanent look of disdain. the son prince of gotham, the son of bruce wayne. he didn’t even try to blend in amongst the judgemental teens — just sat down, corrected the science teacher before the bell rang, and aced every test without trying.

meanwhile, you running were on three hours of sleep and surviving on caffeine, praying to keep your grades up so your scholarship — and visa — wouldn’t vanish.

he was everything you resented. unnecessary wealth, ease, entitlement; and you made it clear from day one.

you cut him off in debates. you rolled your eyes at his smug little smirks. you scoffed when he left early for god knows what and still got perfect grades. he barely blinked at your insults, only raising a brow with a slight upturn of his rouge lips like you amused him.

you figured you’d never ever in a million years spot someone like damian here. you never expected him to show up where you spent your every waking hour outside school.

gotham community center was crowded — parents, volunteers, kids, and you admist them all, helping donations get sorted. you were knee-deep in cooking meals for the people in need, effected by the poverty gotham inhabited. the doors opened with a metallic groan, and in they came: bruce wayne with damian, next to him, hands in his pockets like he’d rather be anywhere else.

you froze for a second, ketchup smeared on your left cheek and mustard on the right, cooking two meals simultaneously while trying to entertain your siblings clinging at your feet. you weren’t even sure if he recognised you outside the classroom, in your apron and sweat coating your brow line.

but he looked straight at you.

no uniform. no class competition: no debate team. no biting sarcasm. just a glint in his eyes of something you hadn’t seen before. curiosity? respect? surprise?

you instantly spun around. just turned back to your task like he wasn’t there, dishing up tomato pasta as waves of starving kids stood patiently in line.

damian exchanged a few words with his father before making his way over to you. shit.