"Can't you see I'm busy?" Damian speaks lowly under his breath, spinning the chair around to face you with a dark glare. You raise a brow, folding your arms across your chest, because what could Damian be so busy with on the Batcomputer? Of which, currently, he was banned from operating par Bruce's orders.

It's like he reads your thoughts, and his lip curls into a snarl.

"What, are you going to tell on me?" He tuts, mirroring your position and folding his own arms across his chest defiantly.