"I don't know where to go,

I don't think this world is made for me

Behind the clouds, there's a castle in the sky,

and I just want you to take me there

And then I'm free,

Then I'm free with you"

~ Rnla & yaeow, "Free With You"

Chapter 22: Little Things

Misty Roman liked to think she was a pretty understanding person.

Despite the shit she'd been through growing up in a household of people who were family by blood but acted nothing like it, she'd managed to figure out how to stay empathetic and remember that human beings did things for many reasons that were usually selfish. Their choices weren't always smart, but people rarely made decisions just for the hell of it. People got scared, fell in love, got angry, felt overjoyed, hated the world because of something tragic that'd happened. People tended to do stupid things based on emotions, desperation, or something like both.

But out of everyone she'd ever met in her life, she just couldn't figure out her new friend, Jess, the girl who she'd just started getting to know better and had suddenly fallen into the dangerous world that was drowning—almost literally—herself in underage parties and alcohol.

Granted, Misty hadn't really talked a whole lot about her own past, not in a whole lot of detail at least. It wasn't like she was secretive—in fact, she was pretty open about having emotionally unavailable parents and having reserved such bitter feelings toward them for so long, and she'd already explained to Jess that their in-process divorce was the reason she was at the facility. While those two idiots were too busy figuring out who'd get the six-figure house, the number of luxury cars and other materialistic things they cared about, her older sister Maya was trying to get custody of her and become her guardian. And because things like divorces cost a lot of money and sometimes took a long, long time, Misty had done everything she could do to get put into the facility since she wasn't allowed to stay with Maya in the meantime.

And it hadn't been all that bad so far, but now it was nearly August and she'd started her morning with the very good news: the long-overdue process was over, and Maya was pretty much her legal guardian now.

Maybe she'd been jumping to conclusions, but she had possessed a strong feeling that Jess also had a pretty troubled past, one that made her refrain from talking much about herself or her family. Misty had respected her boundaries and rarely asked questions that might've been too personal, and that could have been why her new friend almost randomly decided to open up to her the other week. I mean, I didn't even do anything special or out of the ordinary to deserve it. But something must have triggered Jess earlier this summer to make her turn to alcohol—Misty clearly remembered worrying about the girl the first time she hadn't been able to reach or find her the night she'd disappeared from another house party, not hearing from her until the next day.

She was no mind reader, but she wasn't quite sure she believed Jess's explanation that she'd asked Damian to pick her up from the party and had forgotten to tell Misty...

But who was she to judge? Obviously, she'd gone through some pretty hellish things in the last few years, and Misty liked to think she empathized with her. Losing your parents, trying to live with a stranger who was family only on paper, running away and struggling to survive? Yeah, no wonder Jess was the way she was.

The pink-and-black-haired teen stood outside the bakery shop, hands shoved inside the pockets of her over-sized windbreaker as she rocked back and forth on her heels. A pop song blasted through her headphones, blocking out the annoying sounds of Gotham in the daytime. One of the city's major intersections was just right in front of her since the bakery was on the corner; pedestrians flowed in both directions around her, Gothamites dressed in business-wear or casual attire.

The time on her phone read two minutes to three in the afternoon. She'd arrived a little early by about fifteen minutes but only because her work shift had ended sooner than expected. Part of her wanted to go into the bakery and sit down, but the teen had figured she'd better stand outside to make sure she flagged down Jess since she'd never been here before... And she wouldn't be surprised if the other girl got lost.

Glancing to her left, she happened to spot that very friend walking towards her, this time without her characteristic blue hair. Dressed in a Flash t-shirt tucked into denim shorts, Jess broke into a smile when she saw Misty and hurried towards her, her newly-dyed hair bouncing around her shoulders.

"How's it look?" she greeted, eyes glittering with excitement as she came to a stop in front of her. The long locks that had once been a faded blue were now a dark, chestnut brown, trimmed a few inches until they fell just below her shoulders.

Misty hung her headphones around her neck and then reached out to gently touch a few wavy strands next to her face. "So this is your natural hair color. It looks so good, dude. Did she style it this way? You said your hair is naturally wavy, right?"

"Yeah, she did a pretty good job eyeballing my old pictures and getting my color right. I think she used some products that are made for wavy and curly hair, so I guess this is what it looks like if I actually spend more than two minutes on it," Jess answered with a snort.

"As much as I liked the blue on you, this looks awesome. I mean, it looks so much healthier with the cut, too..." The other teen walked a circle around her friend, admiring the new color. "Geez, you make me wanna strip my color and re-dye it."

"Do it."

"It has been a while since I let my hair just chill and not get bleached all the time..."

The two of them entered the bakery, talking away and walking into air full of various, sweet aromas. It was small yet cozy with its warm-colored furniture and millions of photos and portraits plastered against the light pink walls. Though there was a bit of a line to the register, not many customers had taken up the small, round tables at the other end of the bakery.

It had been a while since Misty had been here, but since meeting Jess, she'd been out and about more in Gotham, taking her to places she liked and giving her an informal tour of the city. (Three out of five times, it was some place that had food.) Her friend had mentioned something about craving pastries earlier today, so naturally, Misty had suggested they check out this family-owned business.

"I bet you're excited that you can move in with Maya now. When is that?"

She nodded. "Oh, yeah, it was a long time coming. I should be able to move out by the end of this week, I think. I'm just glad everything got resolved before school starts. Sucks I'll be leaving you though," Misty said with a pout.

Jess gave a shrug, wearing a small smile. "I mean, it doesn't really matter that much since I'm leaving in two weeks anyway. Do you need any help packing or anything?"

"I'll be okay. But you're totally welcome to come see her place and even hang out while we can."

"I'd be down."

After spending a few minutes standing in line and discussing the menu hanging against the wall behind the register, Jess wondered aloud, "Do they have anything vegetarian?"

Misty eyed her, saying, "For Damian, huh? You seeing him today?"

Hazel gaze sweeping over the variety of pastries in the glass display case, her friend distractedly answered, "Yeah, he's gonna pick me up when we're done here."

She couldn't lie: Misty was kind of amazed by how close the other teen had grown to the guy she'd sworn was one of the most intimidating, indifferent people she knew of. Of course, she'd never really known Damian while he was still at Gotham Academy and only heard the whispers and occasional gossip from her peers, but it didn't take a genius to at least notice that he wasn't the kind of person you could just approach and have a decent conversation with. So the fact that Jess had managed to interest him enough that they were friends now…

It's 'cause she beat him at air hockey, huh? Misty laughed to herself.

"I gotta admit I'm kind of impressed," she confessed after they placed their orders and carried their small paper bags to a lone table in the corner. Sitting down and taking a sip from her iced coffee, she went on, "I honestly didn't think you'd still be friends with him at this point."

Jess's eyebrows shot up from across the table while she pulled her pastry from its bag. "Why's that?"

"Well, you already knew I was surprised you guys even made friends at all, which is one thing, but like, the fact that you still hang out a lot and are pretty much attached at the hips? I'm baffled."

"You really think we're attached at the hips?" she chuckled before dropping a piece of the bread in her mouth.

"Uh, yes," Misty admitted wholeheartedly. "No wonder Kade thought you two were dating."

The lightest shade of pink tinged Jess's face, accompanied by a look of sheepishness. Was it because Misty had pretty much said it looked like she and Damian were more than friends or because she'd mentioned Kade? Or even both?

"Well, I mean, besides you guys and him, there isn't anyone else I hang out with. And he's got a little more free time than you do, so..."

"Hey, I have no problem with it at all. It's just an observation." Raising her hands in a show of innocence, Misty continued, "I'm only a tiny bit jealous—obviously he likes you enough to be around you, which is a pretty big accomplishment."

"It's more like he 'tolerates' me enough. Pretty sure I drive him up the wall sometimes."

"Good. He seems like the kind of guy that needs that once in a while."

The two teens laughed together, carrying on their jokes. Misty figured her friend knew her "jealousy" was nothing serious and anything to actually worry about—as much as she found the guy incredibly good-looking and nice to gawk at, there wasn't an ounce of desire in her being to act on it. Besides, if there was anyone who probably even had a chance of catching his eye—

It's definitely you, Jess.

"Enough about Damian—no offense to him—but tell me what your plans are now," Misty began dismissively, waving a hand in the air. "You're almost all finished up at the library and tutoring or whatever, right?"

Swirling her own cup of iced coffee in her hand, Jess explained, "Their renovation is pretty close to done, so my last day will probably be this week or next, and I have my final exams and stuff with my tutor this Thursday. So yeah, I'm practically done with everything soon."

Her eyes had been averted, running over the items on the table and flickering to the drink in her hand. The subject was probably more sensitive than Misty had assumed, which had her guessing that Jess wasn't eager to return home. Based on what she knew about her old life and what she'd be going back to, Misty could see why she felt that way.

"You're gonna keep in touch still, right? And it would be really cool if you could visit during the holidays."

Jess grinned a bit as she sat up in her chair. "I'll definitely keep in touch." The smile faltered as something changed in her gaze. "But as for visiting… I don't really know what my aunt expects from me. We haven't talked about what things are going to be like after my probation is over, so…"

Brows furrowing, Misty scoffed. "Well, that'd be stupid if she doesn't let you have a life. I mean, you're already working your ass off to get back to living life normally, catching up on school and then going back this fall. The least she could do is let you come back for a week or something."

The sounds of chattering customers and bakery employees seemed to amplify while her friend remained silent, making Misty realize the other teen really didn't want to leave. She'd formed new friendships here despite all the responsibilities she'd had to carry the last few months, and now she had to return to a place that only held bad memories—at least, that's what it sounded like. The thought tugged painfully at her heartstrings, and Misty found herself wishing there was some way she could help her.

"It'd be nice if you were able to stay and went to the academy with me. We'd have so much fun," she tried to say lightheartedly, but judging by Jess's failed attempt to laugh along, maybe she was just making it worse.

Clearing her throat, Misty grabbed her phone and unlocked it. "Well, you should help me look online for some new hair styles to try."

"Tired of the pink already?"

"You've inspired me to do somethin' a little different."

"That is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."

Some time passed, the rest of their afternoon filled with casual conversation and "ooh"s and "ah"s over both amazing and horrendous online images of colorful hair dye jobs. By the time Misty had sipped the last of her coffee and ate both of her pastries (despite having planned to save one for later), Jess was announcing that her ride had arrived. They both left the bakery and stepped out into Gotham's cool air, dodging and weaving other pedestrians to make it to the end of the street.

Up ahead, a familiar luxury car that stood out like a sore thumb was parallel-parked against the sidewalk. Leaning against the driver's side door was none other than Damian Wayne, who was casually sporting a gray, short-sleeved t-shirt—one that was just the right amount of snug, in Misty's humble opinion—and jeans. His arms were crossed (hence her observation about the shirt's tightness) as his uninterested gaze passed over the pedestrians walking by until it landed on the two girls, making him push himself off the vehicle expectantly.

Misty caught the way his eyes lingered on Jess as they approached him, and the first words out of his mouth told her why.

"You changed your hair."

"Figured I should go back to my natural color," Jess told him with a cheeky grin. "The blue was starting to look a little green anyway, which is not cute. What do you think?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, green eyes examining her new appearance. Misty had to admit she wasn't sure what he was going to say—would he really say he didn't like it if that were the case? That funny wrinkle between his brows softened, making him look a lot less like... well, his usual, glaring self. The look on his face was almost amiable. Then:

"It looks nice."

The grin remained on Jess's face. "You like it? Thanks, Dami."

Geez, how did he let her get away with that nickname?

For what might've been the first time since they'd arrived, Damian looked at Misty and nodded his greeting. "Sup," was all she said with a smile.

"Do you need a ride anywhere?" Jess turned to her, then glanced at Damian with widened eyes. "Is that okay?"

All he did was wait silently, prompting the pink-and-black-haired teen to shrug. "If it's no trouble, I actually need to go to the mall."

He tilted his head towards the backseat of the car, giving the two girls his answer. Jess climbed into the passenger seat as Misty settled in—carefully because it was just so freaking pristine and expensive back here—behind Damian's seat. They began riding in silence until Jess reached for an aux cord in the middle console, plugging her phone in to play some indie pop song Misty vaguely recognized.

She couldn't help being nosy and watching her friend and the way she interacted with Damian's car as if it was her own... or, more accurately, like she'd been in it so many times and was comfortable in it. Plugging in her phone without even asking? Misty definitely hadn't failed to notice that. After checking for something in her eye in the visor above her head, Jess mentioned to him that she'd gotten him quiche from the bakery.

The next minute had Misty's eyes nearly bugging out of her head: Damian said something to her, and she proceeded to place the slice on a napkin in her hand, which she held out towards him as a makeshift plate. He would use his free hand to take a bite, then put it back on Jess's hand. Misty had to tear her gaze away and look out the window, trying to get a grip on how dumbfounded she felt.

In the handful of times she'd seen Damian since that day at the arcade, she had never witnessed something like this between them. As seemingly innocent and simple as the interaction was, Misty just couldn't fathom how... at ease and totally comfortable they acted. It was just so weird.

What was that she'd said about them being attached at the hips?

Ha. I was totally right.

Not only that, but hadn't Jess said something about Damian not wanting food in his car when she'd run that errand with him a while ago?

Shaking her head, Misty worked to put aside her awe. Maybe she was just looking too deeply into it and making a big deal out of nothing, but a small part of her just refused to gloss over the very obvious evidence happening in front of her eyes. Not that any of this was bad, of course. How could it be? If anything... it just made her silently laugh to herself in amusement.

The drive to the mall took less than ten minutes. When Damian pulled up to the sidewalk, attracting the attention of passersby heading to the doors, Misty unbuckled her seat belt just as Jess turned around and tossed her a smile.

"Text me later," she said with a little wave. "I'll see you tonight."

"I will," Misty replied while opening the car door. "Thanks for the ride, Damian."

"You're welcome."

Before shutting the door, she bent down and teased, "Don't have too much fun." Then, with a grin, Misty stepped away and started toward the entry doors.

Why do you like being on rooftops?

It was a question he'd always had in the back of his mind, especially after the few times he'd caught her by herself on a Gotham building. Of course, it'd been Robin that came across her, but tonight, she'd asked him—Damian—to climb out onto the manor's roof to watch the sun set... a first for this side of his persona, a first for him at all.

Was this not something they did in corny movies and teen fiction?

"I just don't see the appeal."

"Well, of course you don't—you said you've never done it before. But you will once you spend a few minutes up there."

"Tt. I see the trees and sky every time I go outside."

"But you've never actually seen them."

"Whatever that means."

"Would you just hush and get up there so you can help me?"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Damian swiftly planted one foot on the handrail of the balcony outside his bedroom before hopping towards the slanted rooftop above them. He turned around to see Jess standing below, her hazel eyes having widened a bit at the little effort it'd taken him to make the climb.

"I couldn't even pretend to do that if I wanted to."

A faint smirk quirked the corner of his mouth as he held his hand out, hauling the girl up as she copied his movements with her feet and made it safely (though less gracefully) onto the roof. She let out an exaggerated breath after carefully climbing up a few feet and turning to plant her bottom on the shingles. Next to her, Damian readjusted his own position—Good thing this slope isn't any steeper, otherwise she'd be rolling off by now, he mused silently—and watched as Jess took the lightweight blanket she'd brought from his room and arranged it in her lap.

He didn't say anything as she scooted closer and flung it first around his shoulders and then her own, bringing her knees up to her chest. It wasn't cold enough that he really wanted the blanket, but he wasn't going to complain; there was the slightest breeze brushing over his bare arms and through his hair.

"Look."

Jess was pointing before them at the sunset beyond the tree line. Shades of orange, pink, and yellow flooded the edge of the sky, bleeding into a pale yellow above their heads. Slightly to the left was the city of Gotham, its lights hardly visible and unable to compete against the massive, colorful background that washed the surrounding trees in golden light. Still silent, Damian took it in, his initial doubts and skepticism fading away into a meek appreciation of what his friend had practically bragged about. He'd always known what his home looked like in the dead of night, yet this sight was nowhere near the same.

Instead of looking out at the city under a black, night sky plagued with shadows and industrial smoke and hearing sirens and street traffic below, he was soaking in endless shades of sunlight, layers of clouds, and silence dotted with occasional chirps of birds in the trees. This was a sunset he'd seen a countless number of times beyond his window... but this was the very first time he had actually gone outside and taken a moment to truly see and experience it.

Glancing over at her, Damian saw that hazel irises were trained on him, widened like eyes of a child who was eager to show off a trick she'd just learned. It was kind of endearing, really. The sunset bathed half her face and hair in its warm light, reflecting off the brunette strands. Seeing her with her natural hair color was only slightly jarring since he'd gotten used to her unconventional, blue strands. And there was something else in the way she was almost smiling, something like... awe.

Before he could further comprehend the look on her face, she was quickly breaking eye contact and looking back out across the yard. "I've actually only ever been on rooftops in the city at night when it's darker," she explained in a quiet voice. "This is completely different.

"And I already know what you're thinking," the teen continued. "What am I doing out on a rooftop in Gotham at night?" She paused, eyes still turned towards the sunset, before going on, "I've only done it when I really needed to get away and be alone. To think and stuff, I guess."

"That's not a smart idea."

"I know, I know..."

Bringing his knees up and resting his elbows on them, hands clasped before him, Damian asked, "Then what made you want us to come out here?"

Jess didn't respond for a long moment, glancing down at her sneakers and shuffling them across the shingles beneath them. "I've been thinking a lot lately about things I've never really done before. You know how people talk about what they want to do before they die? Since I'm going back to Central City in a few weeks, I realized there's just... stuff I haven't gotten to do here. Things that wouldn't be the same if I did them back home.

"I know, it sounds super cliche." She let out a light laugh as she looked up at him. "But aside from hanging out with you and Misty, all I've done this summer is just do my hours at the library, work, and get tutored, but I want... I want to do more. And I'm not talking roller-coasters or anything wild 'cause watching a sunset is just... simple, you know? It's just one of those little things."

While she'd been talking, Damian had been reading her body language, the way she fidgeted with her feet and ran her fingers around the corner of the blanket over her shoulder. She was glancing into the trees past him now, though there was a faraway look in her eyes like she was seeing a memory instead. The older teen couldn't quite put his finger on it—which bothered him a little—but it always seemed like she was hesitant or nervous when explaining herself. Perhaps she had a hard time putting her thoughts into words or felt negatively about expressing them.

Then again, even he knew he wasn't in a position to question someone else's ability to be open and share what was on their mind.

"Have you made a list of things to do, then?"

"Not really... Kind of thinking of them as I go. I didn't even get the idea of watching the sunset until you picked me up today."

What else was there to do that would count as a "little thing"? Was there something he could suggest to her?...

"Maybe being a runaway and a juvenile delinquent just made me start appreciating the smaller things in life," Jess spoke up in a joking tone. "Who knew that's what it would take to get me to do that?"

A breeze drifted over them, making goosebumps raise across his forearms that weren't sheltered by the blanket. "I suppose that makes sense, though I can't say I've ever cared to live my life by such philosophical means."

"I don't think a lot of people do until it's actually brought to their attention... but I dunno, maybe it's dumb. Sometimes I don't know if anything makes sense until I say it out loud, and now that I have, it does sound kinda lame."

"Being appreciative is... lame." The words came out less like a question and more like he was testing out her thought aloud.

"No... I mean 'yes'? Ugh, I don't know. I'm just... I just don't know sometimes," she said quietly, resting her chin on her knees and wrapping her arms around them. "I don't know how to think, how to feel... what to do."

Damian watched her, the wrinkle between his brows softening. He wanted to say something... but what?

"Maybe I'm... lost."

Lost.

The way she said the word, it was soft, like she hadn't wanted to speak it. From where he sat, Damian could see that her gaze was turned downwards to her shoes. She was still curled up, goosebumps across the bare skin of her legs. The air around them suddenly felt vulnerable, leaving him grasping for an appropriate way to respond to this change.

"Sometimes I think about the life I've lived this past year, the things I've done," she went on, fiddling with her shoelace, "and most of the time, I end up wondering why I even try.

"My parents are gone, I don't have a relationship with my aunt, I don't want to go back to my old life. There's nothing left for me there. But here..."

A yearning arose in his chest, a particular feeling that intensified as the silence passed. 'But here...'? What's here?

Jess was looking at him now, a faint glimmer in her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get all sad and whiny with you."

What's here, Jessica?

"You have nothing to apologize for," he replied after a moment of hesitation. "I can understand—try to understand, at least—where you are coming from... Perhaps you're not giving yourself enough credit."

She said nothing, having turned her gaze back to the sunset.

"... You deserve another chance."

That made her look at him again, that glint returning to her eyes and making his chest fill with something... good. He couldn't recall the last time he had ever uttered words that felt so astonishingly true. You deserve another chance.

The ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Thanks, Damian. That means a lot to me." Her words were just as faint, drifting between them; they gave him this strange desire to hear them again, louder.

And then she was smiling even more. "Can you believe that a few months ago I thought you were cold and emotionless without the ability to smile? But it turns out you're much softer and more human than that. And you do smile sometimes."

He ignored the obvious teasing, unsure of how to feel about the seemingly random statement.

"You're not as scary as you first seemed… I guess you just seem really serious all the time. You kinda have this angsty, bad-boy thing going on."

Those words she'd uttered to him months ago echoed in the back of his mind, reminding him that they'd both apparently turned out to be different than the other had initially thought.

"You must be expecting me to say the same thing about you," he then said.

"Not really. I guess it depends on what your first impression of me was."

A troubled, reckless teenager undeserving of second chances.

"Clumsy."

She let out a snort, throwing her hands up. "That doesn't count 'cause that turned out to be right."

"So you are admitting it?"

"How else am I supposed to embrace it?" Jess swept her hair over her shoulder with an exaggerated flip of her hand. "Besides, my anti-klutz only kicks in when I'm on the ice. Other than that, it's a free-for-all for these graceful limbs." She raised her arms briefly to shake them in a comical, noodle-like manner.

He felt his mouth curving up into a meager grin at her self-deprecating (though sometimes cringe-worthy) humor, a quality he'd admittedly grown fond of in his time getting know her. I think I'm going to miss that. The thought hit him out of nowhere, making the expression on his face falter as he stared at his friend, who was snickering at herself and then readjusting the blanket that had fallen off due to her silly arm dancing. It nearly felt like yesterday that they'd sat in that diner and asked each other questions to pass the time, leaving him perplexed over her ridiculous wittiness and eagerness to get to know him. Dick was probably laughing now in his I-told-you-so manner when Damian wasn't looking.

"Jessica."

The name had left his lips completely against his will, unbeknownst to his always-analytical, hyper-aware mind, like his brain had intentions completely separated from his thoughts. How ironic.

She glanced up at him, seemingly oblivious to the momentary episode of confusion he'd given himself. "Hm?"

Her eyes ran over his face, and then her brows furrowed a little as she waited for his response.

They seemed to stare at each other for a long, long moment—vaguely, Damian knew he'd win if this ended up being some absurd staring contest. His gaze was shifting between her eyes as he remained silent and still, and that was when he noticed a peculiar difference in them. Even in the light of the sunset, the brownish shade surrounding her left pupil was more prominent, nearly half the iris, whereas her right one consisted mostly of the soft, pale green that composed her hazel eyes. Together, they were lighter and more vibrant in the sun as they remained on him.

He was so concentrated on this that he almost didn't realize she was reaching towards him. In a split second, part of Damian wanted to grab her wrist to stop her... but he didn't. The pads of her index and middle fingers touched the skin between his brows, not roughly but not particularly in a soft way either. He couldn't say he had any expectations for how her touch would feel, but it was, surprisingly, not even cold in the chill of the night air.

Perturbed, Damian continued to stare at Jess past her hand that was in front of his face, about to ask her what she thought she was doing.

"You always have these little wrinkles between your eyebrows like you're concentrating or glaring all the time," she was saying.

The observation seemed unusual and random, but the look on the girl's face was thoughtful and almost amused.

"You'll get premature, permanent wrinkles before you're forty."

Jess was grinning a little like she was proud of her teasing comment. Hmph. Damian was just about to swat her fingers away when she gave him a gentle push against his forehead and pulled her hand back.

"Don't do that again," he muttered, bringing his own fingers up to rub lightly at the spot where she'd touched him.

She seemed to ignore him. "What were you going to say?"

Something about her sudden gesture had put him off, yet not in a bad way. It felt familiar… similar to the way he'd felt when she had first hugged him, when she'd taken his hand during Titus's burial. In fact, it merely amplified what he'd been feeling as he sat there, trying to understand the reason for his sudden anticipation that she would be leaving Gotham.

Warm.

"Nothing," Damian finally answered, his face falling back into its usual, apathetic demeanor.

For a moment, she looked like she was going to say something, perhaps demand that he tell her what he'd been about to say… but then Jess was shrugging and looking to the sunset that had turned a vibrant red above the dark tree line.

I'm going to miss you.

She wished she could read his mind.

He was such an expert at remaining composed, though that wasn't to say she hadn't been able to see him emote much more freely at other times. Nevertheless, it was clear that between the two of them, Jess was much easier to read. Damian still usually asked her what was on her mind but only because she managed to give it away in her body language or facial expressions.

But why couldn't she ever do the same with him?

She'd seen the way he was almost staring at her as if he'd realized something or was trying to figure something out. (And then Jess had started to squirm under his green-eyed gaze, focusing on that characteristic furrowing of his brows and deciding to point it out as a distraction.) Then she'd noticed the way he'd paused for too long after she asked what he'd been about to say.

Maybe it was just her imagination.

It had been a long time since she'd had friends anyway, since she had ever gotten back into the process that was making friends and getting to know people. Jess wouldn't have been surprised if she was just over-analyzing or misreading things... But part of her felt like she had learned enough about Damian to spot when something was off or different in his behavior, even if it was minuscule.

What's on your mind?

Her mouth opened just as he spoke up from beside her, saying, "I still owe you one question."

Brows raising, she turned to him and readjusted her seated position—sitting on shingles wasn't as comfortable as she thought it'd be—and asked, "Are you talking about that one day at the diner?"

Damian nodded once, yet Jess couldn't find it in herself to crack a joke or poke fun at him. There was a serious sort of gleam in his eyes, warmed by the sunlight that was fading beyond the horizon. His dark hair, if she looked hard enough, was almost a dark brown in the light instead of the usual black.

He looked away. "Despite everything that brought you here... will you miss Gotham when you leave?"

The question seemed to sink into her mind, slowly, as she processed his words and never removed her gaze from him. Damian's profile, as perfect as it was, was outlined by the dark orange sky, which contrasted nicely with those broody, green eyes of his.

"You ever seen a more perfect nose on a human being before?" Misty had once said about Damian, which had made Jess snort and roll her eyes.

The answer, of course, was no—she was probably never going to admit that to him—and this fleeting, random memory only brought up mental images of the first time she'd ever laid eyes on him.

She recalled when they'd met in that library, how embarrassingly smitten she'd been by his good looks, how taken aback she'd felt due to his disinterested and emotionless personality... And then he'd invited her over for dinner after she managed to beat him at air hockey, effectively paving the way for what was now an unexpected friendship that she was grateful for.

Gratitude. That's basically what they'd just been talking about, right?

Jess was grateful... for having met Damian, even Misty, for finding people who could put up with her; for having such a doable punishment here in Gotham in spite of often feeling like she deserved worse; for managing to (somewhat) get back on track for a more normal life. At least, one that was better than what she'd been living before.

But certainly, as she sat on that rooftop with her friend, sharing a blanket across their shoulders, she knew she was most thankful for and appreciative of the bond they'd developed. Jess would have been naive to think she ever really felt at her "best" unless he was around. She'd never really put much thought into it until now: as much effort and time it took to get used to his strange temperament and personality, she liked being around Damian. She enjoyed his presence, even if they weren't doing anything special, just making food, watching a corny movie, grabbing coffee... Somehow, he'd found her worthy of a friend—exactly what Dick had told her the other day, and Misty just today—and managed, whether intentionally or not, to make her feel... like she was okay.

Like she mattered.

No, he didn't always entertain her dumb jokes, and he usually had a supply of glares and eye-rolls for her, but none of that had ever felt wrong or like it was done with ill intent. And maybe sometimes Jess felt like he wasn't quite understanding her or that he was a bit behind in his social skills, but that was just Damian, wasn't it?

He had to know she'd grown to care about him, and if there was anything she'd learned these past few months, he cared about her, too.

"I don't believe I'll be leaving Gotham anytime soon, but if I did... I'm not entirely sure I would miss it," Damian was saying, his voice quieter and reflecting the look of contemplation on his face. After a brief moment of hesitation, he added, "Too many memories, good and bad, have been made here."

Jess waited patiently, wondering if he was going to go on and explain what he meant. What sort of negative experiences was he talking about? Would he talk about them now, later, or maybe not at all? Damian looked at her then, his eyes unreadable, and said nothing; she took this as her cue, a sign that he wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Yeah... I think I will," she answered. "And I think part of that is because... well, you already know. I don't look forward to going back home."

Lately, if she'd let herself think too much about returning to Central City, the anxiety and apprehension began to eat away at her, forcing the teen to find ways to distract herself from the eventual reality. Part of that meant depending more often on stardust to the point that she was using more than she'd been at first, watching her doses less often because it didn't matter as long as it made her forget what she soon had to face. It was making it difficult to remember to stay off of it when she was with Damian, frankly... and she never had to use it when she was with him.

There's a reason you don't use it when he's around, isn't there? a voice seemed to taunt her in her conscience.

"I'll miss what the city looks like at night," she found herself saying as she stared out into the dark tree line, "and the coffee from that one diner." She paused, thinking carefully as she fell into a state of reminiscing and going on to voice her thoughts aloud.

"The arcade, too. I definitely won't forget kicking your butt—and Misty's—at air hockey. Mmm... I won't miss the library, that's for sure, though I do miss having you around to tell me what I did wrong... I'll miss the walks we went on around Robinson Park and watching you unintentionally intimidate people with the way you talk to them.

"Er, what else? I'll definitely miss your cooking and Alfred's... the theater room, telling your dad when I've made you smile or laugh. Believe it or not, I might miss your overpriced car—oh, speaking of that, your stellar driving lessons and all the driving you did for me. Five stars. Uhh, I guess I'll also miss..."

Her voice trailed off as soon as she looked up and saw that Damian's eyes, though they rarely widened in shock, were filled with something a lot like it as he practically gawked at her. But this wasn't the same as the look he'd given earlier before ultimately saying "Nothing." This was that very same look but intensified, like she'd said something that had thrown him entirely off-guard if such a thing was even possible for Damian Wayne.

The expression looked odd on his face, like it wasn't supposed to be on someone who was typically so collected.

Worry and tension crept into her nerves, making Jess's body feel cold. "Uh, Damian...?"

Had she said something wrong? Trying not to panic, she quickly ran through everything she'd said, looking for whatever it was that might have triggered his bizarre response.

"I do miss having you around to tell me what I did wrong... I'll miss the walks we went on around Robinson Park and watching you unintentionally intimidate people with the way you talk to them... I'll definitely miss your cooking and Alfred's... the theater room, telling your dad when I've made you smile or laugh..."

... Oh.

Oh.

The thread was a simple one, a line that weaved all her words together in a pattern she hadn't noticed until now, and they were tied by a knot that was a single word:

You.

She'd started naming off things she would miss, not thinking too hard about it at all, but then they had all turned into memories and things that were connected and had one common factor.

And that common factor was still staring at her with eyes that seemed to penetrate her walls and suddenly make her feel vulnerable. Were they glistening in the lowering sunset or was that also her imagination again?

Hurriedly, Jess said, "Uh, well, I guess it's pretty obvious that what I meant to say was..." Her throat closed up without warning, but she fought against it for the sake of not sounding like she was getting choked up.

"I'll miss you, of course."

The crooked, half-smile she gave him felt only partially genuine, and now there was a stinging behind her eyes. Why do I feel like a mess all of a sudden? She needed to do something quickly to hide it—Jess shifted herself a few more inches closer to him then leaned her head against his shoulder, facing the sunset.

Her eyes remained on the last of the sun while it dipped below the trees as if the darkened, bluish clouds were chasing it downward. The sky barely had traces of orange and pink now, the night beginning to settle in above them. The air had fallen colder, seeping through her clothing and prompting her to pull the blanket further around her shoulder and drape it over her exposed legs.

His cologne, as familiar to her as her own hands, touched her nose briefly, calming her a little through the unexpected turbulence she was feeling.

She had no idea why her heart was suddenly hurting now, sending ache throughout her chest. There was no immediate answer to how things had taken this turn, why the thought of leaving Gotham made her throat tighten, why her soul was just now discovering her attachment to this place. It didn't help that the warm figure next to her was moving until Jess could feel him resting his own head against hers, the softness of his cheek pressing on top of her head.

It was at this moment that she was glad that it was becoming much darker now; Damian wouldn't see the warm tears falling freely down her face as they remained side-by-side on the roof, bound together by more than the blanket they shared.

I'll miss you most of all.

Note: hope you enjoyed this update! this was kind of lengthy, but i wanted to highlight how Jess's summer in Gotham is coming to an end and what kind of progress she's made in her friendships, which also showed her and Damian pretty much realizing how close they've gotten. (of course, he didn't even admit out loud that he'd miss her... *sigh*)

this chapter and the last few have been feeling kind of fluffy and slow, but things will be picking up pretty soon, i promise :)

thank you all for reading! xx