Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PROLOGUE 

Being Robin was never about justice. Not the way my father saw it.

To him, the mask represented a promise, a commitment to Gotham, a way to balance the scales between chaos and order. But to me, it was never about the city or its people. I didn’t care about being a hero, I felt no need to be a symbol of hope, and I certainly didn’t crave the gratitude of those I saved.

Being Robin was my right, my legacy, the proof that I was a worthy son of Bruce Wayne. Every mission was a test, every victory a step closer to proving that I wasn’t just a child with an important name, but someone who was born for this. To be the best.

The people I saved were just that—people. Fragile, defenseless, victims of their own weakness. When they hugged me, when they cried in my arms or stammered words of gratitude, the only thing I could think was how unnecessary it all was. Their fear, their relief, their desperate need to cling to something solid after standing on the edge of death... none of it meant anything to me. I felt nothing. I needed nothing.

Until her.

Until Alessandra Valencia became my next mission.

I never bothered to truly know her. To me, she was just a persistent nuisance, a shadow clinging to my existence with maddening obsession, someone who dared to challenge me with a defiant smile and a mischievous glint in her eyes, as if she believed she could understand me. Her presence irritated me, her insistence, her habit of slipping into my space and treating me as something more than the warrior I was. I saw her as a burden.

Until I almost lost her.

Until her life was seconds from vanishing before my eyes, and suddenly, every one of her gestures, every word, every smile, every damn moment she had looked at me as if I were something more than a weapon took on a meaning I never wanted to acknowledge.

For the first time, fear coiled in my gut in a way that was unbearable, suffocating, paralyzing. It wasn’t fear of failure. It wasn’t fear of defeat. It was the raw, merciless terror of imagining a world where she no longer existed.

And in that instant, being Robin stopped being a title, a burden I carried out of duty. It stopped being a shadow I had to fit into to prove something to my father. It stopped being just a means to an end.

For the first time, it wasn’t about proving my worth or fulfilling a self-imposed duty. It felt different. More real. More urgent.

Because this time, it wasn’t just another mission, another name on the list of people I had to save.

And though I hate to admit it… maybe, just maybe, I had already fallen in love with her without realizing it.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 1

The Valencia mansion was a monument to excess. Marble columns, endless windows, and a staircase that seemed to lead to the heavens. From the outside, anyone would think Alessa Valencia had the perfect life: the newly discovered daughter of a Gotham magnate, a man whose fortune was built on fashion and investment empires. However, to her, that mansion was nothing more than a gilded cage.

A year ago, her life had been completely different. She grew up in a small apartment with her mother, surrounded by old furniture but filled with love. There were no gala dinners or luxury cars waiting at the door, but her mother taught her to be strong, to face life with determination.

Everything fell apart with the accident.

The news of her mother's death hit like a brutal punch to the chest, leaving her breathless and lost. That was when her father, Daniel Valencia, decided to take her out of poverty and bring her into his world.

At first, their relationship was tense. Daniel was not a cruel man, but he had no idea how to be a father. He didn’t hug her or tell her he loved her; instead, he bought her things. Designer clothes, a sports car she never even asked for, jewelry with exorbitant price tags.

Alessa accepted it all with a polite smile, but deep down, each gift was a reminder of how much he was trying to compensate for his absence with money. Over time, they reached a middle ground. They weren’t the closest family, but at least they no longer argued in every conversation.

When she enrolled in Gotham Academy, an elite school where the children of businessmen and politicians mingled, she thought the best way to fit in was to adopt their rules. If the language of the rich was money, then she would use it to her advantage.

Alessa’s patience was tested the day she ended up in detention. Not because she cared about the punishment, but because of the reason that led her there.

—Your mother must have been a gold-digging whore —Melissa Davenport spat with a venomous smile. They were in the cafeteria, surrounded by students who pretended not to listen, though all were paying attention.

The slap was automatic. The sound of the impact echoed in the air, silencing the general murmur. Melissa fell to the ground with a gasp of indignation, clutching her reddened cheek.

—Say another word about my mother, and I swear it won’t just be a slap —Alessa said, her voice trembling with rage.

The punishment was immediate. One hour in detention.

The detention room was cold and lonely. Alessa sank into one of the chairs, crossing her arms in frustration as she stared out the window. She wasn’t sorry for slapping that insufferable girl, but the idea of being here on her first day irritated her.

She sighed and lowered her head, resting her forehead in her hand. That was when a memory hit her like a tidal wave.

Her mother.

Her warm smile. Her sweet voice. The way she held her when she was scared.

The pain was instant. Like an open wound that never truly healed.

Years had passed since she lost her, but the void in her chest remained, untouched. Every day in this world without her felt like a constant battle. No matter how much she pretended to be strong, in moments like this, the sadness drowned her.

She blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears before they could fall. She wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not now.

—Here.

The voice caught her by surprise.

She lifted her gaze and found a handkerchief extended in front of her. She hadn’t even realized there was someone else in the room.

The boy had been slouched over his desk, his face partially covered by his dark hair, an expression of complete disinterest. It looked like he had fallen asleep there, utterly indifferent to the world.

And now he was in front of her.

Alessa hesitated for a moment before finally accepting the handkerchief.

—Thanks… —she murmured, discreetly wiping her face.

Then, she looked at him again.

And her heart skipped a beat.

It was him. Damian Wayne.

Even if she hadn’t recognized him instantly, his presence gave him away. He was the son of Bruce Wayne, the most influential man in Gotham City. His posture, his sharp gaze, the confidence with which he simply existed… Everything about him screamed "superiority."

But in that moment, he was just watching her with curiosity, as if trying to figure her out.

Alessa felt a slight warmth creep up her cheeks. It was ridiculous. She wasn’t the type of girl who blushed easily, but there was something in those green eyes that completely disarmed her.

—You don’t have to give it back —Damian murmured, leaning back on the desk with apparent indifference—. Keep it.

Alessa clutched the handkerchief between her fingers, feeling her heart pounding. She shot him a sideways glance, wondering what the hell he had done to end up here.

—Why are you in detention? —she dared to ask after a moment of silence.

Damian didn’t turn his head, but his voice came out clear and emotionless.

—I punched an idiot in fencing class.

Alessa raised an eyebrow. —I also hit someone. Melissa Davenport. —She waited to see if that caught his attention, but he only nodded slightly, as if he already knew.

—Don’t cry here. You can’t show weakness —he said, not looking at her directly.

It wasn’t his kindness that caught her off guard, because it was clear he wasn’t kind. It was the fact that, in some way, he had seen her at her lowest moment and still reacted, even if it was with that calculated coldness. At that moment, she knew with certainty: no matter how difficult it was, no matter what she had to do, she would try.

Because, for the first time in her life, she had fallen in love.

The rest of the day passed with apparent normalcy, though Alessa still felt the faint sting on her hand from the slap she had delivered hours ago. She had expected the incident to make her the target of more mockery or to be completely ignored, but what happened was entirely unexpected.

During recess, while she was organizing her things at her locker, a group of girls approached her with carefree smiles and an air of confidence that revealed their social status. She immediately recognized some of them as part of the most popular crowd in school.

—You're Alessa, right? —asked one of them, a blonde with green eyes who watched her with curiosity.

Alessa narrowed her eyes. Her instincts told her this had to be a trap. Since when did popular girls approach the "new girl" unless it was to mock her?

—And if I am? —she replied with a cynical smile, mentally preparing herself for some venomous remark.

But to her surprise, none of them showed any sign of laughing or saying anything cruel.

—We just wanted to welcome you —said another girl, a brunette with long, straight hair.— What you did this morning was amazing. I can't stand that girl; she always talks like she's better than everyone else.

Another girl nodded enthusiastically.

—Yeah, the look on her face after you slapped her was legendary.

Alessa eyed them warily. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to start laughing at her, that this was all an elaborate joke to humiliate her. But no. Their smiles were genuine, their words free of hidden malice.

Was it possible that they were simply… being nice to her?

—Thanks, I guess —she said, still cautious.

The girls continued the conversation naturally, asking her about her life before coming to the academy, what she thought of the school, and sharing gossip about teachers and students. To her surprise, talking to them wasn't unpleasant.

But despite trying to stay engaged in the conversation, her attention kept wandering.

Across the classroom, Damian Wayne was sitting with a relaxed posture, gazing absentmindedly out the window, completely oblivious to her presence.

He hadn't spoken to her since detention, hadn't even glanced her way for the rest of the day. And yet, Alessa couldn't stop looking at him.

There was something about him that intrigued her. Maybe it was the way he seemed so detached from everything around him or the intensity in his eyes when he actually focused on something.

—Hey, Alessa —one of the girls said, pulling her out of her thoughts.— Are you listening?

Alessa blinked and refocused on the conversation, feeling a slight warmth creeping into her cheeks.

—Yeah, of course. What were you saying?

The girls chuckled softly, unaware of her distraction, and continued talking.

But Alessa knew her mind was elsewhere.

Or rather, on someone else.

From that moment on, something inside her had changed. It wasn't just curiosity she felt toward Damian. It was something deeper, something that wrapped around her chest and stole her breath without warning. She couldn't help it—she had fallen for him.

Damian Wayne wasn't just an attractive boy. To Alessa, he was the embodiment of perfection.

His black hair, always slightly messy in a way that looked effortlessly elegant, fell over his forehead in a manner she found hypnotizing. His eyes, a deep and piercing green, seemed to see through souls with a single glance. There was something about the firmness of his expression, the way his lips barely curved into a serious line, that gave him an air of mystery impossible to ignore.

Every movement he made was precise, filled with a natural confidence. When he walked, he did so with the assurance of someone who feared nothing and no one. His posture was impeccable, with a straight back and relaxed shoulders, as if nothing in the world could unsettle him.

And despite that impenetrable aura, there was a shadow within him, a hidden darkness behind his impassive expression that made Alessa wonder what thoughts lingered in his mind.

She watched him from the corner of her eye, unable to look away, feeling her heart pound every time her gaze landed on him. It was ridiculous, but astonishingly real. There was something about him that pulled her in like a magnet, as if she had been destined to notice him from the very first moment she saw him.

And even though he seemed unaware of her presence, Alessa knew that, in her heart, there was no turning back.

Chapter Text

It had been a week since Bianca met Alessa, and although at first she only saw her as the new girl who had earned a spot on the students' radar after that slap, over time she began to notice certain details in her behavior that made her pay closer attention.

Alessa was smart, had attitude, and didn’t seem like the type to get easily distracted, but lately her mind seemed to be anywhere but the present.

It all started with small distractions in class, where instead of taking notes or paying attention to the teacher, she'd stare blankly ahead, pen frozen midair, not writing a single word. At first, Bianca thought she was just bored—completely understandable—but when she followed the direction of her gaze, everything became instantly clear.

Damian Wayne, sitting a few rows ahead with his usual serious and elegant demeanor, seemed completely unaware of the attention he was getting from her friend, focused as always on his notebook.

Bianca smirked mischievously, keeping the discovery to herself, though she decided to stay alert. And her suspicion was finally confirmed during P.E. class, when Alessa, right in the middle of a dodgeball game, stood completely entranced, staring in the same direction as before, completely ignoring the match.

The opposing team took advantage of the distraction, and before she could react, the ball hit her square in the face with a sharp thud, making her stumble slightly backward.

A wave of laughter spread across the gym, and while some of it was just because of the hit, Bianca wasn’t the only one who noticed that the real reason Alessa had been knocked out of the game wasn’t her lack of skill—it was her absolute inability to take her eyes off Damian Wayne.

Alessa covered her face with both hands, utterly mortified, while Bianca crossed her arms with an amused expression, sensing this was the perfect moment to say what she’d been holding in for days.

—Well, that confirms everything —she said nonchalantly.

Her friend, still red-faced, lowered her hands and looked at her in confusion.

—What does?

—That you are completely smitten with Damian Wayne —she answered bluntly.

Alessa reacted immediately, shaking her head and raising her hands in a desperate attempt to deny it.

—That’s not true!

Bianca raised an eyebrow incredulously, letting out a small sigh.

—Alessa, you just got hit in the face because you were too busy staring at him. Do you really expect me to believe that?

—It was an accident... —she muttered, though her voice was so unconvincing that even she didn’t seem to believe it.

—Sure, sure. Totally an accident that just happens to line up with the fact that you've been off in the clouds every time he's nearby —Bianca said with a teasing tone, placing her hands on her hips—. Come on, you don't have to hide it. Having a crush isn’t the end of the world.

Alessa looked down, even more embarrassed, and sighed before speaking in a low voice.

—It’s ridiculous... every girl in this school is in love with him. What’s the point? I don’t stand a chance.

Bianca clicked her tongue impatiently, clearly annoyed by her friend’s defeatist attitude.

—So what? You think that means no one else can try?

Alessa shrugged and let out a humorless laugh.

—It’s obvious he would never look at someone like me... guys like him date models, heiresses, girls who have the world at their feet. Not someone ordinary like me.

Bianca rolled her eyes, exasperated by her friend's insecurity.

—Ugh, what an outdated way of thinking. Do you seriously believe that just because he’s rich and good-looking, that makes him untouchable? This isn’t some cliché romance novel, Alessa. Instead of sitting around waiting for him to magically notice you, why not make him notice you yourself?

Alessa looked at her, clearly unsure about the idea.

—And how would I even do that?

Bianca smiled with confidence, knowing she had piqued her interest.

—Easy. The guys in my circle love gifts, the more expensive the better. My boyfriend, for example, still wears the gold chain I gave him on our first date. You know why? Because gifts can make a difference when you want to impress someone.

Alessa looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes, analyzing the idea more seriously than Bianca had expected.

—You mean, if I give Damian a special gift, he’ll notice me?

Bianca nodded with satisfaction, feeling like she was finally getting through to her.

—Exactly. But not just anything cheap. It has to be something meaningful and high-quality, something he’d really like. So before you do anything, the best thing you can do is find out what he’s into.

Alessa nodded slowly, as if processing everything she had just heard, and for the first time, the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Maybe she was right. Maybe instead of just sighing from afar, it was time to do something about it.

Determined to get more information, Bianca and Alessa skipped a few classes to dig into Damian Wayne’s background online. But their search came up empty—he had no active social media presence. All they found were a few celebrity magazine photos with his adoptive brothers.

With so little to go on, Alessa chose to study him from afar. She hoped that careful observation might reveal clues that would help her win him over.

She noticed Damian was quiet and intensely disciplined, with a rigid daily routine. At lunch, he always sat alone in a secluded corner of the cafeteria, absorbed in books of classic literature or philosophy—clearly a fan of deep reading. Despite his youth, he carried himself with the posture and presence of someone trained in martial arts, moving with an uncommon grace and precision. Alessa also discovered he had a soft spot for animals; more than once, she saw him feeding stray cats that roamed the school gardens.

Armed with these insights, Alessa began crafting a strategy to get closer to him.

She considered gifting him a special edition of a classic literary work—something thoughtful and expensive, which, according to Bianca, might appeal to someone from his social sphere. She also thought about starting a conversation about literature or philosophy during one of his solitary lunches, hoping their shared interests might break the ice.

She even looked into joining extracurriculars related to martial arts or animal care—any opportunity to create natural encounters with him and subtly show they had things in common.

Determined to win Damian over, Alessa felt more confident now that she had a plan based on both her observations and Bianca’s advice. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she was ready to work for it. She wanted to prove she wasn’t like the others. And maybe, just maybe, he’d start to feel something for her in return.

From the moment Alessa decided to approach Damian Wayne, her world began to revolve around the goal of winning his attention. Each day brought a new plan, a fresh idea for getting through the fortress of indifference he’d built around himself.

✦

The first time she tried to ask him out, she waited for the perfect moment—alone with him in the hallway as he put books into his locker. Damian, ever poised and polished in his school uniform, barely glanced at her when she approached with a carefully rehearsed smile.

—Hey, Wayne —she said, leaning casually against the lockers.

He didn’t answer immediately. He closed his locker with elegance and adjusted his tie with a precise motion. His cold green eyes met hers for just a second before he looked away.

—What do you want? —he asked in a flat, almost bored tone.

Alessa, used to more enthusiastic responses, faltered for a second, but forced herself to keep her confident expression.

—There’s this super exclusive martial arts dojo in the city. They’ve got masters in all kinds of styles —she said with excitement—. I thought maybe you’d want to go, we could train together.

Damian was silent for a moment before replying sharply.

—No.

She blinked, thrown off by the bluntness of his rejection.

—You’re not even going to think about it?

—I don’t need to think about it.

With that, he turned and walked away, just as elegantly as he’d shut his locker, leaving her standing there feeling like she’d just tried talking to a block of ice.

✦

But Alessa wasn’t about to give up.

If the dojo didn’t work, maybe he’d be into a rare weapons exhibit happening at the Gotham Museum. She did her research, convinced that this event would definitely pique his interest. When she saw him reading in the library, she took a breath and approached again.

—Gotham Museum is hosting a private katana exhibit next week —she whispered, not wanting to break the silence—. They’ve got pieces straight from Japan. Some belonged to real samurai.

Damian calmly closed his book without looking up.

—So what?

—I thought you might want to go with me.

He finally looked at her, face unreadable.

—No.

The answer was the same—direct, with no room for negotiation. This time, he didn’t even bother giving a reason.

Still, Alessa didn’t give up. She started leaving little notes in his locker—short messages with light jokes or observations about him. Like how he always adjusted his watch with mathematical precision before class, or how he seemed to treat animals more kindly than people.

She hoped the notes might spark his curiosity. But if Damian read them, he never showed it.

✦

One day, after hours of searching for the perfect gift, she found a rare combat strategy book at a collector’s bookstore.

It was perfect.

She wrapped it in elegant dark paper and left it in his locker, hoping it would finally get a reaction.

Later, walking past his locker, she saw the book still there, untouched.

She took a deep breath, grabbed it, and searched for him—finding him in the back garden where he often went to be alone.

He sat on a stone bench, posture flawless, black hair falling messily over his forehead in a way that still looked elegant. The sunlight made his sharp features look sculpted.

Alessa walked up and placed the book beside him.

—It’s a gift. I found it at a special bookstore and thought you’d like it.

Damian didn’t even glance at the book.

—I don’t like getting gifts —he said coldly.

She crossed her arms, refusing to be intimidated.

—It wouldn’t kill you to accept it.

He finally looked up, his green eyes drilling into hers with such intensity she felt small.

—Don’t waste your time.

A knot formed in her stomach, but she held her ground.

—Why do you keep rejecting me?

He stood up with the same fluid motion he used when fighting, his shadow falling over her.

—Because we’re not friends. I’m not interested in being friends.

It was brutal.

For the first time in weeks, Alessa felt her resolve waver. All her energy, all her plans—crumbling beneath the weight of those cold words.

Damian didn’t wait for a reply. He turned and walked off, leaving her standing with the book in her hand and a wound she wasn’t ready to admit was real.

Her pride should’ve made her walk away.

But it didn’t.

Instead, it felt like a challenge.

Something about Damian Wayne intrigued her far beyond his looks or fame. His distant attitude and unbreakable walls only made her more determined to find a crack.

So she changed tactics.

If gifts and invitations didn’t work, maybe the key was presence. Becoming part of his routine—someone he couldn’t ignore.

✦

She started sitting near him in the library, pretending to read while sneaking glances. Damian always had a book in hand—never fiction or light reading, but philosophy, strategy, political theory, or studies on ancient cultures.

Alessa tried to read similar texts, hoping to spark a real conversation.

—I didn’t know you were into Stoic philosophy —she said one day, holding a book by Epictetus.

Damian didn’t look up as he turned a page.

—You’re not.

She blinked.

—How do you know what I’m into?

—Because yesterday you were reading a fashion magazine, and last week it was a teen romance novel —he replied, emotionless—. You’re just pretending to like what I like to get close to me. It’s fake, and I’m not impressed.

His honesty stunned her into silence.

Damian calmly closed his book, placed it in his bag, and stood.

Before leaving, he looked back with a cold stare.

—Stop pretending to be something you’re not.

But instead of feeling crushed, Alessa smiled.

—He noticed me...

Bianca, of course, didn’t take long to hear about the new failure, and far from suggesting that she give up, she insisted Alessa just needed a better approach.

— You’re trying too hard to be what he wants instead of making him notice you for who you are — she said while precisely painting her nails. — You need to stop acting like some desperate little girl and start valuing yourself.

Alessa sighed, sinking into Bianca’s bed as her friend continued with her beauty ritual.

— But he doesn’t even give me the chance to show him who I am.

— That’s because you’re putting him in a position of power — Bianca replied with a dismissive flick of her hand. — Listen to me, guys like him are used to being admired, to everyone wanting their attention, so they hand it out in crumbs. If you want him to see you, you need to stop following him around like a puppy.

— So what am I supposed to do?

Bianca smiled, as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the world.

— Ignore him.

Alessa frowned, skeptical.

— How is that supposed to help?

— Because when someone who’s used to being chased stops getting attention, they start wondering why. Trust me, it works.

✦

The next morning, Alessa decided to put Bianca’s advice into practice.

When she passed Damian in the hallway, she resisted the urge to look at him. In the library, she sat at another table instead of finding a seat close to his. At lunch, instead of scanning the room for him, she kept her eyes fixed on her food tray, pretending he didn’t exist.

And then, something unexpected happened.

For the first time in weeks, Damian looked at her.

It was just a moment, a fleeting slip of his green eyes in her direction, but it was enough to make her stomach flip.

Maybe Bianca was right.

But before she could convince herself the strategy was working, Damian did what he did best: show her he didn’t play by the same rules as everyone else.

At the end of the day, as Alessa was leaving school, she felt someone behind her. She turned around, and there he was, staring at her with the same coldness as always.

— If you think ignoring me will make me interested in you, don’t waste your time ✦— he said bluntly. — I’m not like the others.

Alessa’s heart sank, not just because of the icy tone in his voice, but because she realized something: he knew exactly what she was doing.

And he didn’t care at all.

Damian Wayne was a wall without cracks, without visible weaknesses, and she was crashing into him over and over.

But instead of giving up, Alessa felt something else spark inside her.

A flicker of defiance.

Chapter Text

Damian Wayne wasn't used to these kinds of situations.

He had faced assassins since childhood, fought in the shadows alongside his father, and survived the ruthless training of the League of Assassins—but none of that had prepared him to deal with the persistence of an ordinary girl who seemed determined to catch his attention.

At first, he ignored her. She was no different from the others—the ones who sighed as he passed by, who looked at him with fascination as if he were a prince out of a storybook. It wasn’t new. But Alessa didn’t settle for furtive glances or nervous giggles with her friends. No. She followed him with absurd persistence, as if she believed that with enough determination, she could break through the wall of indifference he had built.

And all because of a stupid handkerchief.

He remembered the exact moment he made the mistake of showing her the slightest courtesy. She had been crying during detention after punching another girl—"pathetic," he thought—but even so, he handed her a handkerchief to wipe her face. It didn’t feel like anything special, just a mechanical gesture with no real intention behind it.

But apparently, to her, it meant something more.

—✦

Alessa wasn’t ugly.

In fact, he had to admit she possessed a beauty that stood out even in a place full of girls who tried hard to look perfect.

Her light brown hair, with golden highlights when the light hit it, fell in soft waves over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were so vibrant they sometimes seemed to glow with their own light, and her pale, porcelain-like skin gave her a delicate, almost ethereal air.

She was slender, with graceful movements, as if she floated instead of walked. But what stood out most was the subtle melancholy always present in her expression, giving her the look of someone lost in a world she didn’t fully understand.

She was beautiful.

Too much, maybe.

He realized he’d been watching her longer than necessary and forced himself to look away, irritated for letting himself be distracted so foolishly.

After weeks of finding notes in his locker, receiving unsolicited gifts, and coldly ignoring invitations, he decided to find out exactly what Alessa wanted from him.

He didn’t believe in the naive idea of a schoolgirl crush or the possibility that she was truly drawn to anything beyond the image he projected. Not with someone like him.

Investigating her was easy.

Her last name carried weight in Gotham, but not for honorable reasons. Her father, Daniel Valencia, was a wealthy businessman whose fortune was built on the misfortune of others; his strategy was to wait for large companies to fall into disgrace, buy them at rock-bottom prices, and then dissolve them, squeezing every last cent from their remains.

It was rumored he engaged in corporate espionage to ensure these companies failed at just the right moment, though there was no solid proof linking him to such practices. He was meticulous and calculating—the kind of man who always had a move prepared before anyone else even realized they were losing.

But what caught Damian’s attention the most wasn’t the father. It was Alessa’s mother.

Or rather, her absence.

She had died a year ago in a car accident, leaving her daughter completely alone until her father took her in. It wasn’t hard to deduce that Alessa had grown up in a very different world from the elite circles she now moved in. Her mother, unlike her father, had no money or influence. She was a woman of humble origins who had worked her whole life to support her daughter, and upon her death, left Alessa in the hands of a man who had barely acknowledged her before.

Maybe that explained her behavior.

Perhaps, in her mind, she saw something in him that could help her adjust to her new life, to fit into a world she never truly belonged to.

Or maybe...

She was a gold digger.

Damian didn’t take long to assume that.

He had seen that pattern too many times: girls from modest backgrounds who, once surrounded by luxury, tried to secure a stable future by clinging to the most powerful person in the room.

And he, as Bruce Wayne’s son, wasn’t just someone with power. He was the best option available.

It all made sense.

Her persistence. Her gifts. Her ridiculous attempts to share his interests.

He couldn’t deny he was surprised at how accurately she managed to strike up conversations that piqued his interest, but he wasn’t fooled. He was convinced she was just another one of those people who wanted something from him—his name, his money, or the idea of being with someone like him—but not because she truly cared about who he was.

To Damian, love was nonsense, an absurd distraction for weak minds unable to control their emotions. And if she thought she could win him over with fake charm, she was wasting her time.

Still, the day he didn’t see her waiting as usual outside school, something inside him shifted with discomfort. He told himself she was probably just trying to get his attention by ignoring him. After all, she had tried everything else, and nothing had worked. So this had to be another one of her games.

—I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of falling into his trap. With an annoyed huff, she decided that instead of waiting any longer, she'd head out through the back door of the building to avoid any possible encounter.

However, as she turned the corner of the courtyard, she stopped when she noticed his hunched figure beside a tree. He was squatting, his uniform disheveled, eyes fixed on something between the roots, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

Damian narrowed his eyes, his curiosity piqued involuntarily, and approached silently, wondering what the hell she was doing.

When he was close enough, he saw her reaching out with a piece of food toward a small grayish cat that was eyeing her warily, sniffing the air before slowly creeping closer.

—Since when do you go around picking up stray animals? —Damian asked dryly, crossing his arms as he watched her.

Alessa turned her face toward him, surprised, but instead of being annoyed by his tone or responding with sarcasm, she just smiled, gently petting the cat's head.

—It's not like I do this every day —she replied naturally—, but I saw him stuck in the tree a while ago and wanted to help.

Damian raised an eyebrow, eyeing her slightly wrinkled clothes and messy hair, as if she'd been wrestling with something.

—Did you try to climb up?

—Of course I did, but I'm weaker than I thought, so I ended up asking the guy fixing the gym roof for help. He got him down for me.

Damian scoffed, shaking his head, but said nothing else as he watched the cat curl up against Alessa's leg, seemingly trusting her.

—I already gave him a name —she commented suddenly with a proud smile.

—I doubt it's anything decent —Damian replied emotionlessly, expecting the worst.

—His name is Rice Ball.

There was a brief silence as Damian tried to process what he'd just heard. Then, unable to help himself, he let out a short, dry laugh—the first since she'd met him.

Alessa looked at him in astonishment, as if witnessing a miracle, and her smile widened with satisfaction.

—I knew you could laugh —she said triumphantly—, though of course, it had to be over something as ridiculous as a cat's name.

—It's a ridiculous name.

—It's an adorable name.

Despite their disagreement, Damian didn’t move away when she leaned in a bit more, gently hugging Rice Ball and stroking him tenderly.

—I wish I could take him home, but my dad's allergic —she said with a hint of sadness.

—I can't either —Damian replied without much thought—, we already have too many animals at home and my father wouldn’t allow another.

—You have pets?

In response, Damian pulled out his phone and showed her a few pictures. First, his dog Titus, a massive Great Dane with an imposing gaze; then his cat Alfred, who looked as sophisticated as his name; and finally, a photo of his cow.

Alessa frowned at the last image, then looked at him incredulously.

—You have... a cow?

Damian nodded with total nonchalance.

—Her name is Bat-Cow.

Alessa blinked several times before bursting into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand as she shook her head.

—I can’t believe it. You're more eccentric than I thought.

—A lot of people say that.

For the first time, their conversation flowed naturally, without Damian's usual coldness or Alessa’s forced attempts to please him, as if the moment belonged to a different dynamic than the one they usually shared. But the bubble burst when a familiar voice called Damian from the school's entrance.

—Master Damian, it's time to go.

Damian turned his head and saw Alfred waiting beside the car. Without another word, he put his phone away and stood up, brushing the dust off his clothes before giving Alessa one last glance.

—You're leaving already? —she asked, though the answer was obvious.

—That’s usually what happens when someone comes to pick you up —Damian replied in his usual dry tone, though it lacked its typical coldness.

Alessa sighed, still holding the kitten in her arms, petting it gently.

—What a shame, just when I was starting to think maybe you’re not as prickly as you seem.

Damian gave her a sideways glance, narrowing his eyes as if evaluating her words.

—I’m not prickly.

—You are prickly —she insisted with a slight smile.

—I’m reserved.

—You’re impossible.

Damian exhaled in mild annoyance, but instead of ending the conversation as he usually would, he lingered a few seconds longer, watching Alessa lower her gaze to the kitten with tenderness.

—You should find him a home —he finally said—. He won't last long out here.

—I know... but I have no idea who to give him to. —She pouted, thoughtful—. Can’t you convince your dad?

Damian let out a short laugh, this time with a hint of disbelief.

—Sure, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to have another animal in the mansion.

—Come on, he can't be that bad if you already have a dog, a cat... and a cow.

—Bat-Cow is special.

—And Rice Ball isn’t?

Damian gave her a warning look, but Alessa just smiled playfully.

—If you like him so much, you should keep him.

—Believe me, I would, but my dad sneezes at the mere sight of dust. If I bring a cat home, I’ll probably get exiled.

There was a brief silence during which Damian, without realizing it, stared at Alessa’s fingers as they toyed with the kitten’s fur.

—You could leave him with the guy who helped you —he suggested, though without much interest in the answer.

—Maybe —she murmured—. Or maybe I’ll just hide him in my closet and pretend I have no idea where the meowing is coming from.

—Yeah, great plan. Very subtle.

—Thanks, I have lots of brilliant ideas.

Damian rolled his eyes, but instead of turning his back and leaving as he normally would, he lingered a moment longer, watching Alessa seemingly torn about what to do with the tiny cat in her arms.

—Maybe... —Alessa looked up, as if hesitating before speaking—. Maybe you could help me find him an owner.

Damian looked at her in silence.

—You want me to get involved in Rice Ball’s future?

—Exactly.

He let out a sigh, but something in his expression softened just a little.

—I’ll see what I can do.

Alessa's smile grew, as if she'd won a small personal battle, and just as she was about to say something else, Alfred's voice interrupted the moment.

—Master Damian, it's time to go.

Damian finally turned toward the car, but before getting in, he paused for a moment and, without looking at her directly, muttered in an indifferent tone:

—By the way... it’s not a bad name for a cat.

Alessa felt a strange warmth spreading in her chest, and as Damian walked away, she couldn’t help but hug the tiny cat tightly while a new sense of hope bloomed inside her.

Chapter Text

The sky, which had been cloudy just moments ago, now roared loudly as thick drops of rain began to batter the city, striking the pavement with such force that the streets turned into a mosaic of uneven puddles.

The wind howled between the buildings, shaking trees and bending store signs, but Alessa didn’t stop for a second.

She had completely forgotten about the umbrella in her backpack, running without a second thought toward the park near the school, heart pounding in her throat, silently praying that the little cat was okay.

Her sneakers were soaked instantly after stepping into a deep puddle, but she barely noticed. The only thing that mattered was finding it.

—Please, please, don’t have gone too far... —she muttered under her breath, feeling the icy water slide down her face.

The rain intensified, blurring her vision and making the search even harder. But then, beneath one of the park’s metal benches, she spotted a small ball of wet fur, curled up and trembling.

—Rice Ball! —she exclaimed, crouching immediately.

The cat raised its head with frightened eyes, its tiny body shaking with every shiver.

Alessa knelt on the ground, ignoring the moisture soaking through her uniform, and gently picked it up, cradling it to her chest while trying to warm it with her own body.

—It’s okay, little one, you’re safe now —she whispered, stroking its head tenderly.

She was about to get up and look for shelter when a deep, disapproving voice startled her.

—You’re incredibly irresponsible.

Alessa turned her head and saw Damian standing beside her, holding a black umbrella that shielded him almost completely from the storm. His uniform was pristine, dry, as if the world around him wasn’t being ripped apart by rain and wind. His green eyes studied her with an unreadable gleam, but the frown on his face made it clear he was annoyed.

—What the hell are you doing here, getting soaked like an idiot? —he continued, lowering the umbrella to cover both her and the cat, though his expression remained irritated.

Alessa blinked several times, confused by his presence.

—I... the cat was alone and scared. I couldn’t leave it here in this storm —she answered with a trembling voice, either from the cold or Damian’s intense gaze.

He let out a heavy sigh, as if he were dealing with a hopeless case.

—You could’ve caught a cold, or worse, gotten hurt. Don’t you have any common sense?

She looked at him with a small, amused smile.

—Are you scolding me or worried about me?

Damian looked away, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

—Do whatever you want. But I’m not letting you stay out here in the rain —he said, extending the umbrella to her—. Let’s go.

Alessa, still holding Rice Ball, stood up carefully and began walking beside him, taking shelter under the protection of the umbrella. Their footsteps echoed on the soaked pavement, and for a moment, everything felt strangely intimate.

—Where are we taking him? —she asked, clutching the kitten more tightly.

Damian thought for a moment, then nodded toward the gym.

—There’s a shed behind the gym where they store old equipment. Hardly anyone uses it. We can make a temporary shelter there until the storm passes.

Alessa nodded and followed him without hesitation.

When they reached the shed, Damian pushed the rusty metal door open with a creak. Inside, the place smelled of damp wood and dust, but at least it shielded them from the wind and rain.

—It’s not the best place in the world, but it’ll do —Damian said, brushing water off his uniform with frustration.

Alessa carefully sat on the floor, placing the cat on her lap and wrapping it with her jacket to keep it warm.

—Thanks for helping me —she murmured, looking up at him with sincerity.

Damian shrugged and looked away.

—I didn’t do it for you. That cat’s too weak to survive on its own.

Alessa laughed softly.

—Sure, sure. You’re all heart —she said with a teasing tone.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the rain hit the shed’s metal roof. Then, Alessa sighed and leaned her head against the wall.

—I always wanted a pet —she confessed quietly—, but my dad’s allergic, so it was never an option.

Damian glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noticing how gently she stroked the kitten.

—Having a pet is a big responsibility. It’s not just about playing with them and feeding them —he commented, crossing his arms.

—I know. But that doesn’t change the fact that I want one. —She smiled wistfully—. I think I’d feel less lonely if I had one.

Damian frowned slightly. There was something in the way she said those words that unsettled him, a strange feeling he chose to ignore.

Before he could respond, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Alfred.

—My driver’s here. The storm should calm down soon —he said, standing and brushing off his clothes.

Alessa stood as well, though less hurriedly.

—So... you’re leaving me here alone with the cat?

Damian looked at her with an unreadable expression for a moment, then sighed.

—No. I’ll take you home.

Without protest, she placed Rice Ball on one of the gym mats, left a bit of her snack, and after petting its fur in goodbye, followed Damian to the exit.

Damian walked alongside Alessa through the remaining drizzle, guiding her to the black car waiting at the school’s side entrance. Alfred, as impeccable and patient as ever, stood next to the rear door holding an umbrella that contrasted with the dull gray of the afternoon.

Alessa paused a moment before getting in, looking at the man with curiosity and a kind smile on her lips.

—Oh! You must be Alfred —she exclaimed enthusiastically, bowing her head respectfully—. Damian has told me about you.

Damian let out a huff from the front passenger seat, clearly annoyed at the idea that he would ever talk about Alfred with anyone.

—Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t talk about him with anyone —he muttered, crossing his arms.

But Alfred, with his usual dry humor and keen eyes, offered a slight smile as he studied her with interest.

—That’s curious, miss, because he doesn’t talk about anyone with me either. I suppose that makes it all the more special —he replied with a flicker of amusement in his eyes, which made Damian click his tongue and turn his gaze to the window.

Alessa chuckled softly as she got into the car and, without hesitation, began chatting cheerfully with Alfred, as if she had known him her entire life.

While giving directions to her house, she asked about his work with the Wayne family, how he had met Damian, and even joked about how hard it must be to deal with him every day.

Alfred responded with the same courtesy and sharp wit, clearly enjoying the conversation with the young woman, whose natural charisma made time fly.

As they drove through streets still damp from the rain, Damian remained silent, occasionally glancing sideways at the interaction between them. It felt strange to him that Alessa got along with Alfred so well from the very beginning, but what disturbed him the most was how comfortable she seemed —as if she had always belonged in that space.

When the car finally stopped in front of an elegant house in one of the city’s most exclusive neighborhoods, Damian raised an eyebrow with mild skepticism. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but he hadn’t expected Alessa to live somewhere so extravagant after reading her background.

—Wow, so you’re not exactly poor —he commented in a tone that tried to sound indifferent.

Alessa rolled her eyes playfully.

—I never said I was. But that doesn’t mean I’ve got life figured out either —she replied with a shrug, then turned to Alfred with a grateful smile—. Thank you for driving me home. It was a pleasure to meet you.

—The pleasure was mine, miss —Alfred said with a slight bow of his head—. And if you ever need an escape from young Damian, I’d be happy to assist.

Alessa burst out laughing as she waved goodbye, gently closing the door before running toward the entrance of her house.

As the car started moving again, Alfred remained quiet for a few seconds before speaking in his characteristically calm tone.

—She’s a good girl —he said matter-of-factly—. And, if I may say so, perfect for you, young Damian.

The sound of Damian’s breathing grew louder inside the vehicle as his face lit up in a clear blush. He turned toward Alfred with a look of disbelief and annoyance, frowning as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world.

—Shut up! —he snapped, crossing his arms again and staring out the window as if that could erase the comment from his mind.

Alfred merely smiled serenely before focusing back on the road, satisfied with the reaction he had provoked.

After getting home and taking a hot shower to wash away the damp feeling left by the storm, Damian changed into comfortable clothes and collapsed onto his bed, the exhaustion settling deep into his muscles.

He was just about to close his eyes when, out of habit more than interest, he unlocked his phone and opened Instagram without thinking—he rarely used it.

That’s when he saw her.

Alessa’s new photo popped up on his screen, showing the girl with her light brown hair still slightly wet from the rain, holding Bolita de Arroz in her arms with a radiant smile on her face. Her blue eyes sparkled with warmth, and her pale skin contrasted with the cozy light of the picture, making everything in the scene feel genuinely comforting.

Without realizing it, Damian began scrolling down, looking at more of her pictures.

In one, she was at the beach with her hair braided, wearing a light white dress billowing in the wind, gazing at the horizon with a serene, dreamy expression.

In another, she was in what looked like an amusement park, holding cotton candy and laughing carefree, her eyes reflecting such sincere joy it was nearly impossible to ignore.

But one post in particular made him stop.

It was a video.

Alessa appeared dressed as Belle from Beauty and the Beast, wearing the iconic yellow gown that flowed elegantly as she gently twirled, surrounded by children who looked at her with wide, enchanted eyes. But what truly caught his attention wasn’t the image—it was her voice.

She began to sing.

Her tone was sweet but carried a natural strength that filled the room where the video had been recorded.

Oh yes, my favorite

When she finds love at last

He, a charming prince

And she only sees it when the tale has passed

The melody was familiar—one of the film’s most iconic songs—and although Damian had never paid much attention to that kind of thing, in that moment, he couldn’t look away or stop listening.

The children around her were completely mesmerized. Some hummed along, others just smiled with the innocent happiness only a child could express. Alessa never once stopped smiling.

There was a sincerity in her singing, a warmth that transcended the screen and, much to his irritation, reached even him.

The video ended with a round of applause and Alessa’s soft laughter, followed by a playful curtsey as she took one of the children’s hands gently. Damian felt a strange knot in his stomach when the video stopped and the screen paused on Alessa’s glowing smile.

In the caption, she had written: "A small gesture can make a big difference. It’s always a good day to give out smiles."

Why was he watching this?

A chill ran down his back as he realized how much time he’d spent just staring at her face, listening to her voice, analyzing her gestures like they were something entirely new to him.

An annoying heat crept up his face, as if he had done something inappropriate.

With a sudden motion, he turned off the screen and set the phone aside, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

—No —he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper in the dim room—. I can’t be interested in her.

But no matter how hard he tried, the melody kept echoing in his head, and the image of Alessa—her radiant smile and angelic voice—refused to fade away.