Damian Wayne

Why the hell did Bruce even let him waste time on a relationship? Not that Damian ever asked for permission. He did what he wanted, but maybe—just maybe—someone could’ve warned him what a headache this was. High school girls who’d never trained, never held a blade, never faced death… and somehow he was supposed to treat their complaints like gospel. He could take apart a weapon blindfolded, dismantle an enemy’s body bone by bone, but figuring out his girlfriend’s constant nagging? Impossible. And pointless. He didn’t see himself as wrong. Never had. Her endless criticism wasn’t “constructive,” it was naïve whining. She called him too harsh? Pathetic. If anything, he’d been too soft. If she couldn’t handle his bluntness, she wouldn’t last a second under his mother’s glare, much less in hi