I do not own Batman.
Pandora: 14 1/2
Damian: 15
Nascent
Chapter Thirteen:
Love on Top
"Baby it's you,
You're the one I want,
You're the one I love,
You're the one I need.
You're the only one I see."
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
Pandora halted, looking startled as her eyes shot upwards to the warm milky brown irises she had grown up with all these years. Her mother watched her curiously, hands bathed in flour and sugar as she hovered over a bowl of dough.
"...does it look like there's something wrong?" Pandora inquired curiously.
Lucy Jayes arched a brow, motioning to her daughter's hands with her head. "You're making those stars into...bats?"
Pandora blinked once before glancing down to the tray of cookies she was supposed to be morphing into stars in celebration of the meteor shower that was supposed to occur in a few nights. Her pale blues gazed curiously at the bat shaped cookies gazing back at her, waiting as if they were going to magically morph back into stars instead of the bat shapes she'd gone ahead and made.
"Huh," Pandora settled back in her chair, thoughtful. "I... I don't know how that happened."
Lucy laughed, wiping her hands briskly off her apron as she made her way over to the worn down table, slipping into a chair in front of her daughter as she smiled. Worn, well worked hands reached across the table and dug into the bowl of dough, gathering up a hefty ball and beginning to mold it in her hands as Pandora slid the tray so it rested between them. "It's all right, cooking really does reveal a lot about how people are feeling, doesn't it?"
Pandora eyed her mother curiously, inching forward almost eagerly to hear another bit of wisdom from her mother. Lucy simply smiled; a fond look on her face as she molded the dough in her hands, softly, gently, as if caressing a child. "When you're cooking, if you're feeling a little mad or angry, you tend to burn things or over season them. If you're sad, things are undercooked or you miss ingredients. If something's on your mind..."
She gestured to the array of bat shaped cookies instead of stars, "You get distracted."
Pandora hummed, nodding thoughtfully as she settled back and idly smoothed over some of the cookies, fingertips tracing the bat shapes. "Yeah, I guess I am kind of all over the place today... Sorry."
"Don't apologize," Lucy smiled, using her shoulder to nudge back some stray strands. Pandora's eyes fell to her mother's softened features, her warm eyes and soft tresses, but the hardened lines of work and years of hardened determination one could only find in a woman who'd seen the world fall apart and still found some way to stand back up. "It's okay to be a little lost in thought sometimes. It just means you're a thoughtful person."
Pandora smiled, reaching forward and digging into the dough as she began to shape it once more. "Well, bats are a pretty popular thing in Gotham anyway... think anyone will mind?"
"Not at all," Lucy grinned, splitting the dough and beginning to mold it into finer features. "But why bats? Not that I don't mind, just curious."
"I was just..." Pandora trailed off, idly remembering that she couldn't very well explain her thought process to her mother that bats had somehow slipped from her fingers because her thoughts were lingering on a very close friend associated with bats—then again, why hadn't she made robins or something? And to start with, she wasn't even quite sure why she was so worried about Damian, she knew he could handle himself when it came to things like this, he'd done it countless of times before, so why...?
"I was worrying about a friend," Pandora answered finally. "And the movie I saw last night reminded me of the problem I was thinking about—maybe it isn't even really a problem, but it had vampires in it and there was a hunter and...bats."
Lucy gazed at her daughter for a moment longer before laughing, shaking her head as her shoulders shook and she steadied her hands so she wouldn't mess the mold in her hands. "The places your mind wanders... It's a whole box of it's own to open, isn't it?"
"At least you'll know there's always hope for me at the bottom," Pandora added cheekily.
Lucy playfully flung a bit of dough her daughter's way as she smiled. "What's this little problem?"
Though Lucy herself had already begun to wrack her brains through possible friends—Damian was a first choice without a doubt. She knew her daughter was bound to make some acquaintances beside the Wayne boy, but for some reason, she found it increasingly hard to see her beside anyone else in terms of friendship. In all honesty, with the way he seemed to tail after her in his own leisurely pace, she doubted anyone could ever take such a position from him without a little squabble.
"Well," Pandora paused, contemplating her answer and word choice. "It isn't really a problem, it shouldn't be. I'm not sure why it's been lingering on my mind either, but I think it's because there's something I'm just worried about—but that's just me." Pandora rambled. "I just... I'm a little...concerned? I think that's it. I'm a little concerned about the kind of people my friend's...hanging out with."
She didn't quite feel the need to delve into the romantic nature of Damian's life—it was his and his alone after all. Though on several occasions he was often hovering about her and inquiring as to her own thoughts on matters, simply for a second opinion. But for this particular relationship he'd decided to involve himself in, she couldn't help but feel a little more anxious for him to turn toward her and inquire as to how she felt about it.
Even if she didn't quite know what she would say to him just yet, she knew she wanted to say something about it—about her.
Lucy looked thoughtful, eyeing her daughter's curious, though faintly troubled expression, and smoothed her fingers over the dough. "...Are you worried that they're getting into an unhealthy relationship?"
"I... I trust them to know what they want and what they think is fine." Pandora said finally. "I know they can do that on their own. I just... I guess I want to say something about it but I'm not sure what it is I feel about it yet, so I can't."
"You know sweetie, the funny thing is that sometimes, even the surest, bravest people can't see what it is that's in front of them." Lucy began softly. "They may seem like the strongest people you'll ever meet, but even the strongest people get a little blind, and it never hurts to have someone throw in a pair of glasses to help them out a bit."
Pandora gazed at her mother quietly, absorbing every word and taking it to heart. Lucy smiled, shrugging her shoulders as her lips curled upwards. "Take it from someone who knows—sometimes we all just need someone to butt in every now and then."
Pandora continued to stare at her mother, a few minutes passing before the daughter sighed, gazing at her mother in childish awe.
"...mama, you're amazing."
"Ah, it's nothing. I've only done what I can," Lucy laughed. "Besides, I could only tell something was wrong because of you're baking. Cooking can reveal some of our hearts' greatest desires and our deepest feelings, you know."
Pandora's eyes flickered downward to the shapes her mother had begun to unconsciously make. "Yeah, I know."
Lucy blinked, looking confused as she followed her daughter's gaze and stopped. Her heart beat once and her eyes flickered as she gazed at the musical notes she had unknowingly begun to make and mold. Lucy Jayes stared at the display of music notes before her, cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh... Oh, jeez, haha, my bad, Pan..."
"It's okay." Lucy paused, glancing upwards as Pandora beamed, reaching for several dough balls and quickly molding them out into various musical notes as well, offering her mother a wide, cheerful smile. "Me too."
And a soft, gentle laughter filled the room as Lucy shook her head, setting her head in her dirtied hands as she laughed, shielding her eyes as dough streaked her face and Pandora grinned, the two of them laughing and filling the warmth of the kitchen with their soft chuckles.
The silent, unspoken understanding and mutual yearning shared between their hearts trailing after the quiet laughter like a bundle of dandelions, something they both knew they should cast aside, since they were nothing but weeds, but couldn't quite find the strength to do so.
Because even those weeds carried with them the hopeful wishes people couldn't find in their hearts to cast aside, and instead chose to push forward with the gentle breath of air that would leave their lips in hopes that all those tiny little seeds, scattered in the wind, might one day take root and grow again.
Pandora prided herself on not being judgmental.
She'd been on the bad end of judging glances and nasty words tossed her way one too many times when she was younger to ever wish to adopt such a habit herself. If anything, she was proud to say she always did her best to never judge someone on first glances—it didn't mean a few thoughts didn't go through her head—but she always tried to keep an open mind because hey, you never know, right?
She knew what could come of setting your thoughts in stone and refusing to budge. She knew that sometimes you just needed to peel back the burnt layer of crust to reveal the soft sweetness beneath. It was thoughts like these and idolizing her mother who never really let what people thought of her get in the way of her life that helped shape the young girl to be the open minded person she tried to at least be.
So when Damian finally introduced her to his latest romantic partner, a lovely caramel haired girl with rounded curves and an already maturing body with plump lips and long lashes dusting over hazel eyes, Pandora had offered the widest smile she could muster.
She didn't know why in that very moment her chest had tightened and she'd suddenly felt so apprehensive, if anything, the sudden shift in her emotions was startling, so she quickly masked the sudden unease with over the top happiness she'd learned to master to a point where Damian wasn't too suspicious now. Her stomach churned uncomfortably and she couldn't figure out why she felt so...negatively towards Lana Smith.
Damian never introduced her to people he found interest in unless they were sticking around for awhile, and he tended to hover around her more often than necessary whenever such a relationship was a little more serious to get her input. Pandora never thought too much on his romantic life seeing that he never bugged her about hers—because technically hers was nonexistent at the moment but not that she minded really since piano and food were her first loves—and always simply wished that the relationships would do well and hoped for the best for him. Love was something she considered a very precious thing, and for someone as precious to her as Damian, she would wish the happiest for him over and over again because everyone deserved their happy ending.
But the moment she'd extended her hand and Lana's eyes had dropped up and took in her whole frame, analyzing her before she offered her a warm smile of her own and took her hand as well, Pandora knew that she would not be the person to give it to him.
The thought had hit her like a slap to the face and Pandora had suddenly felt guilty, wanting to take it back and feeling even worse when she realized she didn't want to take it back. The thought rang loud and clear in her head and she only nodded numbly as Damian said something and Lana offered her own opinion with the soft tinkle of her voice.
It was different from all the other girls. Different in a way Pandora couldn't put her finger on or really understand. Even Lian hadn't been this bad, and that girl had just been...unforgettable to say the least. But the problem with Lian was simply the fact that she as so wild in a way like Damian that the two of them fought with each other more than they were affectionate and Pandora had been left t wonder if she should ay something about such a self-destructive relationship when Damian had shrugged one day and said they broke up.
But it was a different Pandora wasn't sure she was too keen with, the sudden feeling of unease and distaste lingering on her tongue like a cookie left in the oven too long without enough sugar to counter the bitter crisp of burnt edges. It hurt her in ways she couldn't understand to imagine judging someone so quickly on the first meeting, and it was beginning to eat at her in a way she couldn't grasp because she knew deep down, no matter how she tried to talk herself out of these first thoughts and these wary assumptions, she didn't want to take them back.
She didn't know Lana Smith. She didn't know a single thing about her. At most, Pandora had probably heard a whisper of her name or someone in class who was familiar with her. She knew nothing about the pretty caramel girl, except for the fact that she and Damian had met a one of the Wayne parties and had simply continued to talk from there out.
And, perhaps worst of all, Pandora couldn't understand why she...didn't want to get to know Lana better. In the deepest corners of her heart, she didn't want to know what she did on her weekends, she didn't want to know why she decided to turn her eyes toward her friend, and she didn't want to know why Damian decided to be with her.
I think... Pandora limply pushed at the keys, a low, melancholy note ringing out. I think I might be a worse person than I thought I was.
There was no other way to explain it, was there? She confided in her mother, her greatest advisor, and her mother had thoughtfully inquired if perhaps Pandora was jealous of how much time this girl was taking from her friend. In all honesty, Pandora wished it was something like jealously. That she could handle and cope with and understand. Jealousy could be explained and reasoned with and fixed.
But she wasn't jealous, perhaps the tiniest bit sad occasionally when Dam couldn't do something on a certain day or make something another day, but that was him down because of a recital or something she had to help her mother with—close as they were, they couldn't be together all the time.
Then what?
"You all right?"
Pandora's fingers jerked hard into a few keys, forcing her and Oz to both wince at the sharp noise that echoed out throughout the room. Pandora laughed and Oz grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you or anything—"
"No, no, you didn't do anything," Pandora sighed, gazing forlornly at the beautiful instrument before her. "I'm just being dumb."
"You? The piano genius?" Oz laughed, ruffling his locks before shuffling awkward to the side. "I don't think you're dumb."
"I am," Pandora said earnestly. "Well, yeah, I am. No excuses."
There was a brief pause and she added thoughtfully, "I'm not really a genius you know, most of my skill comes from just honestly playing the piano a lot... If anything, you could be the genius."
Oz shook his head, soft, dirty blonde locks shifting with the movement, and he offered her a small smile. "My attempt at skill comes from years of lessons and tutors I was lucky enough to have. I think the way you just have this ear for playing has to come from something people can't teach you—it's you."
Pandora's cheeks flushed slightly, all too pleased to be complimented when it came to piano—to her it could only be the highest praise, right alongside getting Damian to admit she was right about something since that rarely ever happened.
"Well, I'm not that good," Pandora admitted, a silly little grin on her lips nonetheless as she suddenly perked up. "Would you like to play?"
"If you wouldn't mind having someone like me."
She quickly scooted to the side and Oz slid onto the bench beside her, setting up some sheets so they could look through the duet piece together. A warm smile touched Pandora's lips despite the uneasiness still in her heart, but she figured if anything could make her feel better, it was the piano.
"It just clears my head."
Her fingers kissed the keys, as light as feathers.
But her heart had never felt heavier.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"Decorating!" Pandora's eyes brightened as she leaned over the counter and hooked on another star toward the top of the ceiling.
Damian stood before her, hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, regarding her coolly. His emerald eyes quietly took in the vast array of star stickers littered throughout the bakery, examining the various cookies dotted with constellations and stars now being suspended from the ceiling by Pandora's slender hands.
"For...what occasion is all this for?"
"There's a meteor shower coming up in a few days!" Pandora explained eagerly. "It only comes every six years!"
"...interesting," Damian found himself far more focused eyeing the precarious way his friend chose to attempt hanging the decorations—a crude balancing act atop a chair and several thick textbooks—math textbooks he noted.
"It's safe, don't worry," Pandora said, noting the line of his sight.
Damian simply allowed her statement to sit between them for a moment so she could understand the complete inaccuracy of it.
"Okay, it doesn't look safe but—"
"Get down."
Pandora puffed out her cheeks, stretching across and hooking another star. "I'm almost done!"
"If you don't get down right this moment, you will hurt yourself."
"No I won't, jeez, Dam, have a little faith in me—"
"Pandora," Pandora paused, wincing at the note of a command in his tone as Damian's piercing green eyes met her levelly. "Please spare me the effort of once more saving your life and make the right choice for once."
She knew he was only half-joking, really.
I don't think she's right for you.
"Make the right choice for once."
Pandora in all honesty had no idea what possessed her in that moment.
"No."
Damian's mouth slid open, a retort on the tip of his tongue when he paused, brows furrowing ever so slightly for the briefest moments as he processed what she'd just said to him. Pandora paled, her stopping for a moment when she realized what she'd just done. But some odd, tiny part of her suddenly ignited, her blood racing at the thought of what she'd just said—the way she'd said it. It wasn't as if Damian was right, but for some reason, just being so...difficult with him instead of giving in felt...
Good.
I'm a terrible person. Pandora realized dreadfully as slowly, calmly, Damian arched a disbelieving brow her way. I'm a terrible person for being so childish, but just once...wouldn't hurt, right?
"Did you just say 'no'?" Damian inquired, looking at her in obvious disbelief as Pandora swallowed, hooking another star.
"Yes," her eyes darted nervously to the side and then back to him. "I did."
She reminds me of someone, I don't know who.
Damian's eyes flickered almost darkly, amusement coloring his features as he stepped forward somewhat threateningly. "Pandora, get down before you hurt yourself."
"No." Pandora said firmly, refusing to wince at how childish she sounded. "I don't want to."
"You don't want too..." Damian echoed, looking almost mystified and somewhat disturbed for the briefest moments by this turn of events. Emerald eyes hardened and he stepped forward. "If you don't get down, you do realize I have no choice but to make you get down."
"Why?" Pandora quickly blurted out.
"...why?" Damian repeated, looking at her in complete disbelief. "Are you daft? Standing up there is asking to hurt yourself—"
"I never really make you do things!" Pandora said quickly, gripping the final star decoration in her hand. "Sometimes I try and push you out of your comfort zone, I know, but I never really make you do anything, so why would you ever say you'll make me do something? Would you really do that to me?"
Damian looked completely bewildered, emerald eyes searching her face for any sign to figure out what was going on in her head. His brow remained arched, no longer believing she was being dumb—she was simply acting mad.
"Make you? I—"
"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Pandora questioned, a flash of hurt flickering across her face. "Is that what it takes for me to listen to you? I always hear you out, you know! You shouldn't have to do something like that!" What am I even saying? Pan, you've gone insane and Dam knows it!
"I would threaten you," Damian said coolly, attempting to establish some form of command in this strange, strange situation. "I can threaten you. I have threatened you. Do you take me for some sort of fool? Should there ever be something you need to say, I openly listen to whatever it is, no matter how childish or random it may be."
Damian took a step closer and Pandora wobbled backwards.
"And you're right, I shouldn't have to resort to something as childish as threatening you to get you off a chair so you don't fall and hurt yourself."
His hand stretched outwards, emerald eyes boring intently into her soft hues. There was a look of frustration upon his features, mixed with surprise and confusion as he reached forward to help bring her down.
I would wish all sorts of happiness for you.
Lana's stunning smile, her warm caramel locks, and the very outline of her figure fitting so perfectly next to Damian flashed through her mind.
She reminds me of someone.
"Now will you please," Damian's fingers stretched outwards, his eyes searching her features, analyzing. He was always doing that, she realized quietly, trying to read her face. She idly wondered if it was harder to figure out what she was thinking than most people.
"They look like a couple made in heaven."
"They're a perfect match."
"Best with the best."
She'd heard those words before.
I don't know why I'm thinking like this. I don't know why I feel like this. I'm sorry for acting this way to you, Dam.
He wasn't mad. Faintly annoyed, perhaps. He looked more mystified—confused if anything else.
"Get—"
She won't make you happy in the end.
"No—whoa!" Damian's eyes widened in disbelief as he quickly surged forward, hand extending to grasp onto her and jerk her forward. Pandora's eyes widened as the chair wobbled and the textbook beneath her foot slipped, sending her falling backwards.
Pandora jerked her arm back moments before Damian could grasp it, his eyes flashing to her in disbelief as Pandora let out a choked cry and toppled backwards.
Sacks of flour let out an exhale below her, cushioning her dull fall as a cloud of white smoke fanned out around them. Damian shifted back and then surged forward, waving away the flour that had risen up and reaching for Pandora.
The girl before him coughed, blinking once, twice, the cloud of flour that had risen upwards dusting her in a coating of white. Soft hues peeked out from the snowy dust coating her features, and Damian hunched over her with a look of disbelief and growing annoyance. "Are you mad? What the hell were you thinking? I knew you were childish but this is going above even my expectations."
Pandora could only stare, somewhat mystified as Damian seemed to assess her well being, the sacks of now squished flour having done their duty in cushioning her fall. "What if you'd broken something, you idiot?"
Flour coated her features, dusting her soft brown tresses, staining the soft fabric of her clothes. The dusty, familiar scent filled her, along with the familiar tang of cinnamon that always hovered around Damian amidst the cologne that was beginning to suit him, but still seemed just a bit too old. Damian's words rattled off past her ears, faint, warming, and she could only focus on those sharp emerald hues, full of annoyance and something that looked a little like unease.
A small, childish part of her liked that he couldn't figure out what was going on in her head.
I don't even know what's going on in my head.
Damian reached to help her up, but Pandora's hands slid into the dusty mounds of flour that had escaped their bags. His brows furrowed and his mouth slid open to lecture her when Pandora simply cupped a handful and brought it between the two of them. Slowly, meaningfully, Pandora let a little fall before she promptly brought her hands together with a resounding clap.
A great cloud of flour fanned out over both of them, settling on Damian's jacket and coating her even further in flour.
The silence between them was brief, feeling endless.
"You've gone insane, haven't you?"
It was less of a question and more of an accusation really.
Pandora's lips curled upwards and she laughed. A bright, full little laugh that forced her lips to pull wider and her eyes to nearly disappear from the force of her cheeks curling upwards. Tears sprung in her eyes, clumping the bits of flour and causing a dusty streak down the side of her face. Damian looked near ready to shake her senseless or perform some sort of exercise that would cease her craziness.
"Maybe just a little," Pandora grinned, extending her hand and Damian took it without a second to waste, hauling her upwards and pulling her rather close as he eyed her carefully.
There was a moment of silence, his way of giving her the chance to explain herself and the actions that had just occurred before he forced it out of her in his own Damian-like way.
Instead Pandora's eyes dropped to their hands, his so much larger than hers wrapped tightly around her hand and a little over her wrist. Carefully she slid her hand back, not enough to leave his grip, but enough to shift their hands so that she could press her own hand flat against his, palm to palm. Damian watched as she brought their hands upwards, her eyes drawn to the way his hand so widely dwarfed her own small, slender fingers.
A small smile touched her lips and her eyes met Damian's her fingers stretching outwards to curl around his slightly.
"Hand hug!"
...
...
...
"You've gone insane."
There was an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that Damian Wayne could not identify.
Baby bat's girlfriend was at it again.
Jason watched, cheek propped against his hand somewhat lazily atop his motorcycle as he watched the familiar figure of the brown haired girl waltz down the streets of Gotham without much of a care.
He wouldn't have noticed her had it not been for the large dinosaur backpack strapped over her shoulders—wasn't she nearly fifteen or something?—and the stupid way she seemed to be kind of swaying from side to side when she walked, nearly veering off paths and into things.
The black haired ex-Robin watched with lazily thoughtful eyes as she nearly ran into a thick man with a heavy coat and almost tripped over a crate of who-knew-what sitting against the curbside. Jason arched a brow, wondering why on earth he was seeing someone who shouldn't really be his problem more often than he should. Didn't Damian follow her around like some sort of guard dog? Why was it that nearly every time he'd seen her so far she was out and about doing something...different.
Little prick did get himself a girlfriend recently according to Dickie. Jason watched the girl before him mumble out hurried apologizes as her dinosaur backpack thumped against her back.
Is someone just out to get me? Jason idly wondered, eyes flickering upwards to the graying sky above them. Some way for the universe to test to see if I truly am a good person?
A heavy, devilish grin curled upwards on his lips at the very thought. He'd come back from the dead. He doubted worldly morals and celestial rules still applied to someone like him who wasn't meant to even be alive. But Jason Todd was alive, and he was here now, defying all the normal laws of the universe and setting contradictions no one had ever seen before.
Contradictions, huh... His eyes flickered back down and he winced as the ditzy little idiot nearly ran head first into a pole, shuffling back a few steps and pausing momentarily in the middle of the street as if she was trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with her.
If things kept up like this, it would get a lot harder for Jason to admit he simply didn't care about this strange little girl.
It's probably about to rain or something anyway.
Jason's hand stretched outwards and revved up the bike beneath him, the familiar hum of his cycle like a lull purr in his ears as he rode forward, sticking close to the curbside as the figure of soft brown locks and a grinning dinosaur grew closer and closer. He simply brought his bike to a gentle roll, waiting to see when she would finally notice someone was literally tailing her.
He idly ticked the seconds off in his mind, waiting as slowly her eyes blinked once, twice, her brows furrowed, and then Pandora slowly turned to face him, pale bright blues meeting deep cerulean.
...
...
...
"Jason! Oh—Oh! H-Hello!" Pandora's cheeks flushed a bright cherry red for a moment before she quickly laughed nervously; combing her fingers through her hair before she stopped and Jason kicked the stand for the bike. "Wow, fancy meeting you here—how are you?"
"What the crap are you even doing?" Jason arched a brow, not ever one for short talk as Pandora blinked with wide eyes and he rested his head against his hand, eyeing her critically. "Just casually wandering up and down the streets of Gotham like some kind of idiot?"
"Well..." Pandora paused, biting her lip for a moment before she blinked. "Yeah, actually."
He had to wonder how she and Damian met.
"I see," Jason drawled. "So you're just casually walking up and down the streets of Gotham, waiting to be kidnapped—"
"I wasn't waiting to be kidnapped," Pandora mumbled, idly kicking the ground in front of her—yellow rain boots, he noticed. "I doubt anyone ever waits to be kidnapped."
Some spunk, nice to know she isn't a total door mat. Jason leaned back, not even hiding the fact that he was clearly judging her in this moment with his narrowed eyes and pulled lips. Pandora straightened, adjusting the straps on her backpack and standing tall.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I'm casually riding up and down the streets of Gotham."
Pandora bit her lip, puffing out her cheek. "So you're just casually waiting to get into an accident?"
His lips twitched upwards into a crooked grin.
"Don't tell me you got into a fight with Baby Bats now, did you?"
Her eyes went obviously wide, her mouth falling open in surprise. Too expressive, Damian should teach you better. Then again maybe Baby Bats preferred it that way. Pandora quickly shook her head, but while he might've missed the swing the ball still landed in the park. Pandora's face turned sheepish and she idly twiddled with her fingers. "No, it's nothing like that. We haven't fought or anything..."
"Jealous of his new girlfriend?"
Why do you even care, man?
"No, no, no, not that," Pandora suddenly looked up in surprise. "Wait, when did I ever say Dam had anything to do with why I'm out here?"
It's obvious. "I'm psychic."
Pandora looked startled, stepping back in shock as her hands quickly shot up to her head, as if that would somehow block out the thoughts. Her mouth fell open for a brief moment before she noticed his wide grin and glittering eyes and she common sense triumphed and her hands fell to her sides with a pout playing on her lips.
"In a world like this, that's totally possible, you know."
"I know."
"Jason..." his name sounded peculiar leaving her lips, and his eyes turned to face her evenly as she gazed hard at his shoes, scuffed up military boots stained with god knew what. "Is there ever a right reason to butt into someone's life?"
He supposed he could've gotten off his bike and slid down beside the curbside to explain things to her. He supposed a decent person like Dick would've gone into detail to explain that there were always moments in everyone's lives where they needed someone to step where they weren't wanted and stretch out their hand to pull them back to where they needed to be. But in that moment, Jason was not someone like Dick or Alfred or Tim or even Bruce.
So he told her what she needed to hear.
"All you need to do is say what you want to say and then let them decide what the hell they want to do with it," Jason said simply.
Pandora's eyes turned upwards and Jason turned his head to the side, kicking the stand of his bike upwards. "Get on."
There was a brief moment of silence, as if she were mulling things over as Jason simply kept his eyes trained forward. Then small hands slid around his torso and gripped onto the front of his leather jacket tightly. He reached over and set his own helmet down over her head where it completely dwarfed her small features.
Safety first. He mused idly. "This isn't going to become a habit, all right?"
Her cheek pressed softly against his back, Jason unable to see the thoughtful way her eyes seemed to be swimming with a multitude of thoughts.
"I wouldn't mind if it was." Pandora said simply.
A deep chuckle resounded from his chest and Pandora shut her eyes, feeling so wonderfully and strangely at ease as Jason simply pulled out from the curbside and shot down the street, idly trying to map out the way to the small bakery he barely remembered tucked into the corner, all the while feeling strangely at ease with himself.
When they finally pulled up to the small bakery, Pandora hastily clambered off the bike and ordered him to stay put. Jason idly considered leaving just too simply be, well, him, but something kept him rooted to the spot as he watched the dinosaur backpack disappear into the bakery.
A few minutes ticked by and then Pandora came rushing out, a bag in her hands as she skidded to a halt before him and stuck the bag, bulging with different baked goods, out towards him. "Here!"
Jason blinked once, arching a brow. "I don't—"
"Too bad!" Pandora rushed out hurriedly, looping the bag around his handle bar and then turning on her heel and rushing back into the bakery. "They're apple and blueberry tarts because they remind me of you!"
Her cheeks were flushed a bright rosy red as she offered him a hurried wave and slipped back inside. "Thank you!"
The bell to their bakery jingled as the door slammed shut and the sign flipped to closed as he watched her outline disappear deeper into the building. Jason sat there atop his motorcycle, idly contemplated the multitude of thoughts and odd things swimming in his head as he glanced down to the bag beside him. He reached forward and noticed a folded up flyer advertising a meteor shower happening in a few days and tucked that into his pocket, digging deeper and pulling out what he figured was an apple tart.
He pulled the wrapping aside and shoved the tart into his mouth, turning and revving up his bike as the first droplets of rain landed across his cheeks.
The undoubtedly delicious taste filled his mouth and his eyes flickered to the bakery once more, a thoughtful look dusting across his features for the briefest of moments as he recalled flushed cheeks and twiddling fingers before he grinned, surging forward and shooting down the street.
Maybe a couple years earlier.
"No."
Soft, plump lips pressed down along his neck.
"No!"
Slender fingers, slim, warm, slowly began to undo the buttons along his shirt, pulling the sleek fabric aside.
"I'm not going to."
The scent of flowers, artificial and intoxicating assaulted his senses. Those slender fingers began to push aside his dress shirt and run themselves down his chest.
"You can't make me!"
Those familiar bright blue eyes, the warmth, sparkling little glimmer they always had, soft, gentle, submissive. Though she was never some mindless doll idly always following his orders and his will, how often was it that Pandora took some sort of a stand against him, no matter how childish? Let alone something they both clearly knew he was right in.
Lips attached themselves to his collar bone, his hands trailing upwards and drifting up and down along the curvy figure before him in an almost familiar, mechanical sort of trance, his thoughts elsewhere.
Instead of their normally warm and soft glow, those pale blues has shone bright in that moment, bright in a way he wasn't used to seeing in Pandora. They were...fierce almost, fierce in a way that seemed to be daring him to argue, to snap at her. And had he not been so worried that she honestly would've bashed her head in or hurt herself, Damian would have found the strange and unexpected turn of events to be rather...
Intriguing.
There'd been an itch to his fingers, a slight spike in his pulse, something he didn't quite expect to ever feel around someone like Pandora, but it seemed she was always throwing him for loops.
But why? Damian's brows furrowed as he ran his fingers up Lana's shirt, leaning forward and leaving kisses along her neck as she let out an airy sigh beside his ear, fingers crawling up his back and dragging themselves back down sharply. What on earth would bring upon such a strange change in her attitude? Had something occurred to set her off? Was there something going on that he was not made aware of?
No. Damian quickly dismissed such ideals. He was as aware of Pandora's movements as he was his own. If something had occurred to set her off that she didn't wish to speak to him about he would no, so it was unlikely any sort of emotional event had taken place to disturb her usual self. Then what? Emerald eyes peered open, sharp and smoldering as they took in the sight of the well furnished room before him—Lana's room—and the arching ceiling and silken sheets beneath his fingers.
Warm, worn, woolen sheets. Knitted quilts. Cluttered desks and half open books. Scattered music notes and paints.
Some part of him was idly amused at how well he was keeping his hands busy with the female before him while his thoughts were focused on another. Emerald eyes drifted to the side. What was going on through her mind?
Lana continued to let out breathless moans and heavy breaths beneath him as he pressed his lips to hers. His eyes suddenly caught the shift of his phone atop her nightstand, the low vibration from receiving a text message forcing it to shift only slightly. His eyes snapped back to Lana, eyes closed and cheeks flushed and he nimbly reached outward with one hand, busying himself with the other as he tipped his phone in a manner so he could read the message.
"Meet me at the bakery at eight."
Pandora.
His eyes remained on the message for a great deal of time, barely even focused—but still performing exceptionally—as his lips pressed to Lana's collarbone. It wasn't even a request.
Any other time Pandora would've asked or sent the message with an unnecessary amount of smiley faces. This time it was one simple phrase, a solid command, not even a request.
Interesting. Damian's brow arched and he simply slid his lock screen so the message would be shown to have been read, enough a reply for her to know that he'd acknowledged the message.
His head began to swim with thoughts of his friend and what could possibly be bringing along this strange behavior. His hands fitted themselves along Lana's hips and he brought his lips to hers, imagining a familiar crooked grin and warm, shining blue eyes, a face caked in flour as her hand curled around his.
What is going on in your head?
7:25
Small fingers tapped against the keys idly, her eyes drifting to the front of the bakery and then back down to the smooth keys before her. Pandora's foot tapped up and down against the ground, setting an off beat as she idly tried to prepare herself for what she was about to do.
The moment she sent the message she'd curled in on herself and buried herself beneath a flurry of blankets, wondering how Damian could manage to be so demanding all the time because simply typing that one thing without a please or a smile was...hard. She'd shuffled out of her cocoon to see that Damian had seen the message, and that meant all she could do was wait and see how far she had to go to make her point clear.
Pandora worried at her lip, fingers drumming nervously against the old and beaten piano before her, its wooden creases like brows furrowed in worry. Her eyes strayed to the clock as the hand continued to tick down. Maybe I was too demanding? The way she'd sent the message had seemed like the best way to get the message across—after all, how often was Damian told what to do by someone like her? And she needed him to come tonight otherwise all the nerve she'd managed to muster to do something as odd and awkward and imposing and selfish as this would fail.
7:50
Is what I'm doing even right? Pandora suddenly gripped her head in her hands with a groan. Lana hasn't done anything wrong, she's not really a bad person it's just...
What was the point in being with someone like that if they wouldn't make you happy?
How do you know? A voice whispered in the farthest corners of her mind. How do you know that she doesn't make him happy? What does make him happy then?
Winning. Pandora started idly. Beating people at chess. A clean slice through something. Being on top. Cinnamon tarts. Praise from people he respects. He doesn't admit it but I know he likes some movies. Hard books. Watching people.
The growing list began to give her a strange sense of confidence as she continued to add onto the list, listing things at random and shuffling them all together. She couldn't afford to doubt herself, not now. In this moment, she had to be the kind of person who could impose themselves on others. She had to be nosy.
"Well?"
His smooth, deep voice startled her out of her seat, her fingers slamming into the keys before her as she nearly fell off the side of the bench and whirled around.
His hair was slightly messy—it'd grown out a bit she realized—his tall, lithe figure took up all of her sight as he stood before her in a loose shirt and his familiar black leather jacket. Pandora blinked once, mouth falling open in surprise as her eyes darted to the clock until she realized he was right on time and she quickly shut her mouth, turning back to him.
Those emerald irises held her in place, intent, alert, keen and sharp then she was used to seeing. It was as if he was watching her particularly closely today.
"Hello," Pandora offered dumbly.
Damian arched a smooth brow, leaning back slightly as the scent of his cologne and cinnamon washed over her—did he just shower? His eyes never left her face and Pandora awkwardly shifted on her seat on the bench, the item she wished to deliver to him tucked safely in her pocket.
"You suddenly demand to have me meet you here out of the blue," Damian drawled, not at all annoyed, but prompting her attention in a way that meant he knew she wanted something and he wasn't going to leave until she explained herself. "And all you have to say is 'hello'?"
"It's polite," Pandora mumbled, twiddling with her fingers.
His eyes still haven't left my face. Pandora purposely avoided contact with those piercing emerald irises because she couldn't afford to be caught in his tempo today—she had to conduct the pace, she had to play her piece and let him decide what to do with it.
She laid one hand on the piano, as if drawing strength from the instrument as she inhaled and exhaled.
"What? Are you about to run some sort of marathon—"
"Idon'tlikeher." Pandora blurted.
Damian's brows furrowed and he blinked once. "...What?"
"I don't like her," Pandora rushed out once more. Her cheeks flushed a deep, horrified crimson red and Damian's eyes grew thoughtfully curious as she nervously drummed at the keys in random octaves. "She's nice, she's pretty—she hasn't done anything to me at all or she doesn't seem that mean but I really don't like her."
"You are speaking of Lana," Damian said slowly.
"Okay, she's really pretty," Pandora's hands collided with each other and she hurriedly twiddled with her fingers, eyes darting this way and that. "I've been feeling so uneasy lately and I just don't know how to explain it and I've felt awful for feeling this way because I'm sure you'd support me in whatever relationship I were to have sometime in the future and I know there must be some reason why you two ended up dating so she must interest you in some way but—"
Pandora inhaled deeply, small chest heaving with the motion as Damian's eyes shone brighter and brighter with each word that left her lips, a strange emotion filling his chest.
"But I don't think she'll make you happy. And-And I just feel that when you spend time with someone like that—they're just supposed to make you happy, you know? I don't think she'll make you happy in the long run. I-I may not know a lot about what'll make you happy but I do know some things! And, and, and I—I just really think that she won't make you happy."
Pandora's chest heaved up and down, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glued to nothing else but the fine pair of shoes before her as Damian simply remained silent, processing her entire rambling.
Pale blue eyes softly glanced upwards, locking onto bright, unreadable emerald. "...sorry."
For a moment, the first thought that had flickered through his mind had been the curious thought that perhaps Pandora was jealous. A highly unlikely but strangely interesting thought, but he'd quickly ruled that out the moment he witnessed how earnest her face had been when she'd bore before him everything that had been swimming in her mind, laying it all out for him to see.
You're an idiot. A quiet part of him noted. You shouldn't lay yourself before others so easily.
To me alone is fine.
"She won't make you happy." The words kept turning themselves this way and that throughout his mind. It was such a strange thing to admit to someone, but the way she'd presented it somehow seemed to make so much sense in its own Pandora-like way. Damian continued to stare, emerald eyes never leaving the flushed face before him as the strange emotion he'd felt as but a flicker flashed through him once more.
This is what's been bugging you? Damian felt his feet bring him a step closer. It was a strange feeling, having believed he'd known his closest friend nearly inside and out only to find that there were aspects of her he had yet to truly grasp. Annoying and interesting.
"I-I know it sounds kinda dumb," Pandora admitted sheepishly. "And you can think it's childish but...it's just what I think."
Childish perhaps. Damian was close enough that he could simply reach out and he'd be able to touch her. Yet somehow you still manage to make sense.
"She didn't do anything wrong. She's pretty and nice but..."
No. Damian supposed. Lana did not make him happy, she never really did. In all honesty spending time with her had been just a chance to cure some boredom and test out some new things. He'd never gone into the relationship with the intent of it being something deeper—it was impossible for it to do so. But the fact that Pandora, unaware of this intent and considering his relationship as if it were honestly and actually one that might've gone deeper and saying her piece...
It was different.
"Then what would you like me to do?"
Pandora's eyes shot upwards—trapped. The moment her eyes landed on his he kept them there, his gaze never leaving hers as he shifted closer, watching her face avidly. What else is going on in your head?
"D-Do?" Pandora looked startled before realization dawned on her.
How like her. Of course she'd go into a plan half assed. Did she not expect to get this far? What exactly did she expect of him then?
"Oh, well, I mean... Uh... I, well, I wouldn't want you to... But..."
Vanilla. He'd always noticed she smelled like vanilla. Not the sickly sweet kind from perfume but the strong, sharp tang of vanilla extract from the bakery and the dull scent of old papers.
Damian was suddenly overcome with the overwhelming urge to touch her.
"Damian?"
The smooth, bell like voice shattered whatever fumbled trance Pandora had wandered into and her eyes cleared, like someone awakening from a spell. Damian's eyes never left her face as her head turned, his mind already registering that'd he honestly almost forgotten who he'd left waiting in the car because he'd been escorting Lana home when he'd needed to swing by to see what Pandora had needed.
Lana stood in the doorway of the bakery, surveying it for a moment before her eyes landed on Pandora and she offered her a small smile. "Hello, Pandora."
"Hi, Lana." Pandora grinned. "Sorry, I just needed to tell Damian something for a moment."
"It's all right, I was just wondering what was taking so long." Lana offered her a bright, shimmering smile and her eyes drifted to Damian, waiting.
What else is going on in your head? Damian wanted to send Lana off but Pandora reached for her pocket, the hand that Damian had slightly extended to reach for her was suddenly pressed against a flyer and Pandora offered him a bright, crooked smile. "Hope to see you there."
"She reminds me of someone."
Pandora stood, offering the two of them a bright smile despite the flicker in Damian's eyes that clearly said he wanted to inquire further. She waved and slipped behind the counter, pretending to slip further into the kitchen as she waited for a heartbeat until she heard Damian's heavy, even steps and Lana's clack of heels.
Pandora's face paled, all the confidence and the energy she'd felt vanishing the moment the realization had finally slapped her dead across the face the moment she'd turned and seen Lana standing there in the doorway waiting for Damian.
"They're the perfect couple."
Her eyes drifted to the side and she craned her head around the counter, watching as Damian offered his arm and Lana slipped her arm through his, the two of them fitting together like a match made in heaven.
The image of another couple came to mind. Pandora quickly turned around and curled her arms over her knees, shutting her eyes as a hand reached upwards and gently brushed a small part of her collarbone where she knew a certain scar remained from a time long before.
"It's better like this then, isn't it?"
"GET OUT."
"All you can do is just say what you wanna say," Pandora mumbled, pressing her head to her knees. "And let them decide what they want to do with it..."
She could only hope what she'd done was enough.
"Parts of you I still don't know."
"Damian?"
Slender fingers curled tighter around his arm.
Parts of you I want to know.
His eyes strayed to the flyer in his hand, glancing down and smoothing it out to see that it was a crudely decorated paper illustrated the meteor shower that was meant to take place tomorrow night.
"Damian."
What's going on in your head?
"...Lana."
There was a multitude of people milling about on the street down below. The bakery down below helping keep the street lit as people pulled out lawn chairs and blankets to settle down and peer up at the smog filled sky, the barest hint of stars and the night sky still managing to peek through. Down below Pandora could barely make out the familiar outline of her mother moving between people and friends, offering baked goods and hot cocoa or coffee to those who wanted it as everyone settled in to watch the spectacle that was about to appear before them.
A small smile touched Pandora's lips and she settled back on her position on the roof, a blanket over her knees and beneath her as she gazed upwards at the slightly clouded sky. There were a few pieces missing to this familiar memory, but she supposed it would have to do.
Are you looking up at the same sky right now too?
There was a flash of green lights below and Pandora paused briefly, wondering if she'd catch a glimpse of her close friend tonight.
What I said was so abrupt... Pandora slid her hands into her pockets, letting out a breathy sigh. I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to mull it over before he makes his move.
If what I said is even worth considering. Pandora grimaced, resting her head on her knees as she peered upwards beneath her bangs.
But then again, she did know Damian to some extent, didn't she? He was her friend—he wouldn't toss her words away just like that.
Have faith in him.
"Is this truly an appropriate place for you to be located at this time of night?"
Pandora's eyes went wide.
Slow footsteps, calm, even slid up beside her as an impossibly warm body took a seat beside her. Pandora's eyes remained wide and disbelieving as Damian settled back, letting out a puff of air that curled outwards from the cold as he reached forward and grabbed her blanket, adjusting it so it covered the two of them as he settled himself beside her.
"You're not with Lana?"
Damian pulled the collar of his jacket upwards, settling close beside her and the heat of his body mingling against hers.
"We are no longer involved with each other." Having expected the look of guilt and worry that had suddenly appeared on Pandora's face he added. "Not due to you, of course. Your words had little impact to what I had already decided."
Pandora deflated, laughing nervously but look overall relived. Her nervous laugher soon turned into a light hearted, breezy, loose laugh, full and ringing out amidst the night as Damian gazed at her as if she'd gone absolutely insane.
"What do you find to be so entertaining?"
"No, I just," Pandora tried to push aside her giggles, wiping at her eyes and offering Damian the brightest smile she could muster.
"I'm glad you're my friend."
Damian arched a brow, gazing at her somewhat incredulously. "I would assume that you are. Where else would you be without my guidance?"
Pandora pouted, brows furrowing as the unease that had settled before seemed to disappear. "Just fine, I bet."
Damian rolled his eyes, turning his gaze forward as something flickered across the sky and he paused, idly fascinated for the briefest of moments. "There's one."
Pandora quickly perked up, eyes shooting upwards hurriedly as her mouth fell open in awe and her eyes began to sparkle. She quickly nudged Damian and clasped her hands together. "Make a wish!"
"How on earth could—"
"Shh, just do it, Dam."
Pandora couldn't admit it, but in that moment, for the briefest of moments, her heart was so full of happiness she couldn't think of a wish she'd need to ask. There were different wishes and different dreams she could hold dear, but for now, in that moment, Damian at her side, whatever strange problem that had occurred overcome, she couldn't have asked for more.
In that moment, Pandora did not quite understand the step she had taken forward to understanding more about herself.
Damian's eyes shifted to the side, trying to grasp onto this silly notion presented before him once more as his eyes strayed to his friends face, a multitude of things he had wished to say and discuss with her flickering through his mind. Things and words he'd like to get across and see to dwell further into to understand the person he'd considered his closest friend.
But there was a pause, a shift in the air, an exhale of a breath. Emerald eyes focused on the face before him, bathed in the glow of the low lamplight and mingling with the light of the moon above them as streaks of light shot across the sky, scorching forward and burning a trail in their wake across the infinite expanse of black.
In that moment, Damian felt something he'd never quite felt before gazing at his friend.
The long, echoing notes of a piano echoed off the arching walls as smooth fingers drew to a halt.
A lone figure paused, turning his head to the side as he gazed out the long, glistening window before him, the clear view of the night sky gazing back as streaks of light scorched the canvas before him like streaks of paint.
Memories that seemed to go as deep as his bones flickered through his mind, clear, crisp, and ever so nostalgic as he turned on his seat at the bench, deep eyes gazing outwards ever so thoughtfully as he watched the sky, wondering if a familiar pair were gazing up at the same sky as well.
In that moment, a man recalled a life he could never return too.
Fun Fact: Pandora has a growing crush on Jason, but it's not like she would ever really act on it anytime soon. :)
Fun Fact (I think we missed one chapter): Pandora prefers dogs to cats, she thinks cats tend to look down on her for some reason.
I LIVE. :D
Thanks to everyone for being so patient and sticking with me through everything. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I'd love to say a lot more right now but I busted out this chapter as soon as I could and now I have finals to study for.
I LOVE YOU ALL.
THANKS FOR READING.
Marshmellow-
-OUT!