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Frayed, scribbled sketches covered the wooden desk Bruce and Talia sat at, the smell of graphite and charcoal thick, clinging to their very being and consuming them whole.
“He made all these?” Bruce asked, gingerly picking up a nearby artwork. Lines danced across the paper in a symphony of black and gray. His breath caught in his throat as the image fully processed in his brain and he found himself looking at a near-mirror image of the woman sitting next to him.
His gaze softened as he extended the sketch to Talia, who took it in manicured hands and went silent for a moment.
“Your son is very talented, Mr. Wayne.” Damian’s teacher— what was her name, Miss Zheng— leaned forward in her chair and watched intently as Talia pored over the physical manifestations of everything that made Damian Damian. “Which is why I asked to speak with both of you specifically.”
“As you know, Gotham Arts recently opened, and there are still several spots open. I believe Damian would thrive there,” Miss Zheng continued, glancing intently at both Bruce and Talia, seemingly gauging their reactions. “I’d be more than happy to go over the details of applying with you both, as well as how the academy would benefit him.”
Bruce and Talia exchanged a glance. There’d always been a push-and-pull when it came to Damian; Talia knew him better than anyone on the planet, but Bruce knew the city that was beginning to mold him like an extension of himself.
“We’d like that,” Talia stated. She reached to lace her fingers with Bruce’s, heart settling as she felt him squeeze her hand in response. It was strange, being so close to him yet so far, constantly trying to find a way to exist together without shattering the tentative relationship they’d rebuilt for Damian’s sake.
An explanation of the academy and what it offered followed, Miss Zheng taking the time to describe what it would mean for Damian in great detail. Neither Bruce nor Talia were familiar with the way fine arts institutions worked, seeing as they were effectively taught at home as kids and only had experience with medical school.
“What about the non-arts classes?” Talia asked during a lull in the conversation. Her father had made it so Damian had no choice but to forego certain things in favor of combat skills; Talia had done her best to nurture his natural curiosity, but there was still so much he could stand to learn. “How do they differ from the classes offered here?”
“Well, for starters, more college-level classes are taught at the academy. Instead of one or two options for history, for example, he’ll have the ability to choose between, I don’t know, East Asian Studies, Pre-Columbian History, you name it.”
“When you say college-level,” Bruce asked, leaning forward slightly. “Will they count for anything in terms of credits, or are they simply meant to be more challenging?”
“He will have the opportunity to dual-enroll in Gotham University, yes, so any college-level classes he may choose to take will count towards a two-year degree.” Miss Zheng smiled in response and gazed expectantly at Bruce and Talia.
Bruce bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t flinch when Talia’s thumb idly brushed against a jagged scar marring his wrist and instead took a moment to exhale heavily.
“Will he be expected to live on-campus, or…?” he finally spoke, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He didn’t know if he could handle living in an empty house again.
“Usually, yes, but for a man of your, ah, caliber… I’m sure the dean would be willing to make an exception, Mr. Wayne.”
“No, no, that’s.. fine. It’s great, actually.”
“Well, then, that’s wonderful!” Miss Zheng all but exclaimed, a radiant smile on her face as she practically beamed. She began to gently collect all of the pieces she’d laid out on her desk to show the couple. It wasn’t until she felt the cold metal of a ring brush over her knuckle that she paused.
“Is it alright if I keep this one?” Talia’s hand hovered over a sketch Damian had done of the Gotham skyline. It was as unfamiliar to her as the city itself, but it was Damian’s, and Gotham was partially Bruce’s, and she couldn’t ignore that. She’d make a note to etch every nook and cranny of the city into her heart the way it had carved out a space in her son’s and... well, she didn’t know what Bruce was anymore.
“Oh, of course, Ms. Al Ghul. If you’d like to take any others along with it, be my guest.”
Bruce watched Talia with soft eyes as she nimbly formed a stack of the drawings she wanted to take home with her. His grip on her hand remained firm even as they left the classroom. The halls of Gotham High School were overwhelming in a way as they wove through crowds of parents preening themselves for raising such studious children, the sound of thick award papers rubbing against one another and quiet songs of praise filling their senses.
The night was cold as they stepped out of the building, breaths condensing in the air as they walked side by side.
“He’ll like it there,” Talia finally said softly, smiling up at Bruce with those eyes that could reduce him to a puddle on the floor within seconds.
He found himself mirroring it despite himself and he squeezed her hand.
“Yeah. He will,” he agreed. It was strange, this domesticity, something he’d never thought he’d have until Talia came into his life. He’d been expecting more lonely hours in his office and bruised knuckles after patrol instead of movie nights with his sonーhis brilliant, kindhearted son who was the best of both Bruce and Taliaー and aching fingers as a result of gluing together cardboard for school projects.
It was rare for Talia to be able to join in on those moments. Hell, it was even rarer for Bruce and Talia to be alone like this, the walk back to the brownstone giving them a moment of quiet; most of their interactions nowadays involved Damian.
“How long are you staying?” Bruce asked as he gently pulled Talia closer to him when they walked past an alleyway too quiet for his liking. He knew what he wanted to hear. He let himself be selfish more than he should when it came to Talia.
“How long will you have me?” Talia replied. She blinked up at Bruce as he stopped abruptly to look down at her. She couldn’t help the fond smile that reappeared on her face.
“You already know the answer to that question.” His grip on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Talia’s ear. She laughed at that and God, Bruce wished he could bottle the sound up and keep it forever. He’d missed it. He’d missed her.
“At least until Damian’s situated,” Talia promised. She leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to Bruce’s forehead, relishing in the way he practically melted against her. “But I will stay as long as you want me to, beloved.”
Bruce had to tear his gaze away from Talia’s face as the term of endearment fell so easily from her lips, forcing himself to not kiss it away. They’d be on the street for hours if that happened.
For now, he would keep her warm until they returned home to their son. Their Damian.