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you don’t regret meeting damian al ghul wayne. you know you should, that’s what they all say, what they scream from their castles and call down from the clouds. they beat it into your brain until it’s ingrained like your own first name.
you didn’t listen the first time. you should have.
the night had gone as it usually did - with soft touches and sweet secrets of love you’re only allowed to feel behind closed doors. his hand traced your skin like the stars in the melancholy moonlit sky you used to wish upon. begging for a love different from your father’s own tattered and tear-stained marriage. when you saw damian for the first time, those wishes slipped through your fingers like sand at the beach, sinking to the ground in silent insignificance. into the pile where all those fallen stars go. into the pile of easter bunny eggs and santa claus gifts. into the pile of promises you knew they couldn’t keep.
“called me crying in the dark“
he wept - like the broken boy he was. he wept for his mother and father and childhood.
you held him close.
“ i love you, everything about you. ” you said, gently carding your fingers through his hair, “ and i can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t.”
“ you mean the world to me - i would never leave you حبيب/حبيبة قلبي ” it’s a promise he makes.
you know he won’t keep it, but you allow yourself to indulge in the love he offers conditionally.
the school hallways are suffocating. they choke you like scarves in winter and skinny jeans in summer.
"now you're breaking my heart.“
“they’re fucking obsessed with me. ”
you hear him say. it stings. but you’re numb to it.
he’ll apologize later - you’ll nod.
or maybe you’ll walk away - like you know you should.