SEPTEMBER 14TH,
GOTHAM CITY, NEW YORK
WAYNE MANOR
3 a.m.

HE COULDN'T SLEEP.

Damian growled as he turned in his bed. It wasn't unusual for him to have restless nights, especially with the trials that came with being Robin but this time it seemed as if he couldn't sleep purely for no reason at all.

Natasha Rocque. He hadn't known her for long. Before his senior year, he hadn't even known of her existence. Possibly it was because she was the only human other than Alfred and his father he had been forced to interact with for years but he had quickly come to the conclusion that—

Sasha Rocque was the bane of his existence.

It's not that Sasha did something. She hadn't maliciously harmed him. It was simply her presence in his life that was the problem. She didn't speak much, nor did she have any annoying mannerisms besides speaking slowly and refusing to look a single human in the eye. Damian simply did not do well working with others nor did he want to learn how to. He was used to being alone to the point where his silence was comfortable to him.

Damian Wayne did not work with others. Sure, occasionally he worked with his father as Robin but even that did not feel like actual teamwork as his father was also someone who preferred to do things himself. There was that time when his father had "died" and Grayson took over as Damian's Batman. Hesitantly Damian could grudgingly admit he enjoyed his time as Grayson's Robin but...he preferred not to think about that time of his life. He could admit the absence of his family and his lack of friends caused him to detest the human species more. Of course occasionally over the past couple of years since leaving Grayson would send him a message but Damian would ignore him, Drake never visited because of his busy schedule with leading the Teen Titans, and Todd was either off-world with the Outlaws or just simply refused to step anywhere near the Manor.

He offered (demanded) to complete the work alone but Sasha would not allow him to. She told him that no matter how smart he thought he was she would never let him dictate if she got a passing grade or not. Damian's only reply was that she was an idiot who should be happy she got someone like him as a partner, Sasha only stared at him blankly in response before continuing with her work because she didn't have the energy to argue with him. The girl was infuriating. But as annoying as Sasha was, Damian knew she was not the reason for his restless night. He knows why he couldn't sleep.'

Being Robin didn't feel the same anymore.

In the beginning, he viewed Robin as an honor. A way to gain his father's trust but Damian soon realized that no matter how hard he tried his father would never trust him. His efforts would never be enough for his father. Nothing was enough for his father. He then used Robin as a way to one-up Drake in his younger days but as Damian got older he soon realized Drake didn't care. Was Drake bitter at first, resentful that the title of Robin was stolen from him? Yes. But as time went on Drake learned to be happy without the title of Robin with the help of the Titans. Later on, Damian saw Robin as a way to bond with Grayson but now with Grayson leaving on his "self-discovery" journey after his final break up with Starfire, and now...

Robin felt like a chore and Damian hated chores.

Being Robin used to make Damian feel like he was unstoppable. Almost as if he were weightless as he soared through the air, undefeated as he knocked a criminal down punch by punch. He used to feel victorious as he stood next to his family in their full uniform. But now it felt tiring, a nuisance. He knew Grayson had warned him that eventually, Damian would grow out of being Robin like he had. Damian didn't believe him at the time. Robin was seen as his destiny, It was only right for the son of the bat to take place as his counterpart. But now Damian wasn't sure what he wanted and he hated it.

He liked being in control of his thoughts, his wants, his needs, his desires, and now being unsure of what he wanted to leave him restless. Damian rolled over in his bed, facing the ceiling, and stared at the roof of his bedroom.

What was this feeling?

Damian glanced at his phone that sat by his nightstand.

"Every Brent Faiyaz song is good too. He never misses a mark."

He only asked about her music taste to try and be polite, never to take her offer seriously under consideration. He glanced between his phone and his hand once again before groaning in defeat. Damian grabbed his phone, opened his Spotify app, selected the first Brent Faiyaz album he saw, and bitterly pressed play.

SEPTEMBER 14TH,
GOTHAM CITY, NEW YORK
WAYNE MANOR
10 a.m.

DAMIAN COULD FEEL THE STARE OF HIS FATHER BURN INTO THE SIDE OF HIS HEAD AS HE TYPED AWAY ON HIS LAPTOP.

Damian continued to pay his father no mind and continued to focus on completing his math homework. This would be the fourth time this week his father would sit with him during breakfast and he didn't know how to feel about it. Maybe he should be happy his father was trying to spend time with him as awkward as it was but all he felt was confusion.

Bruce Wayne cleared his throat, "Damian?" he said after a moment, trying his eyes away from the Newspaper in front of him. Damian glanced up from his work. "I've been looking at schools for you."

Damian frowned, "Schools, father?"

Bruce nodded, "Yes, colleges," he told Damian.

A sick feeling filled Damian's gut. College. It was a topic had had actively avoided talking to his father about. It's not that Damian was scared of going to secondary school, in fact he was happy to finally have the chance to gain independence. Though many students had an idea coming into their senior year where they wanted to go Damian had no idea.

"I was thinking Princeton," Bruce said, sipping on his coffee. "Yale is also a good choice to study business. You'll need the best degree if you're trying to take over the company when you're older."

Maybe he should feel happy that his father finally admitted Damian would be the one taking over the company. It was something he thought was promised to him since childhood. But now...all Damian felt was sick to his stomach at the thought of taking over the company, the thought of attending Yale or Princeton.

Damian glanced away, "Father—"

"Damian!"

"Jesus, Dick-head, calm the fuck down—"

He froze and his blood ran cold.

Standing there in the doorway was Dick Grayson. His eldest brother hadn't changed much, he still looked like the overexcited idiot he was with his dark hair growing a bit fuller and thicker, he stared at Damian with his bright blue eyes as he stood excitedly in the doorway, his arms open as if he was expecting Damian to dramatically run into his arms.

Behind Grayson was Jason Todd with jet Black hair with a white streak running through it staring flatly at the scene in front of him and next to him was Tim Drake who was the shortest out of all of them with his dark hair and eyes with pale skin.

Damian's throat felt dry.

Bruce choked on his spit, "You're all...home."

"Jeez, Bruce. Really feeling the love," Jason muttered sarcastically.

"No, no, of course, I love you all but—"

You love them all except me.

"Why are you here?" Damian's icy voice cut through the commotion. He stared at them all. "Why are all of you here?"

Dick dropped his arms. "Alfred didn't tell you two?"

Bruce frowned, "Tell us what?"

Alfred comes into the dining room, with a tray full of breakfast foods. "They will be staying for the remaining of Master Damian's school year."

And just like that, his world crumbled.

SEPTEMBER 14TH,
GOTHAM CITY, NEW YORK
CRIME ALLEY
SASHA ROCQUE'S APARTMENT
11 a.m.

HE DOESN'T KNOW WHY HE'S AT HER APARTMENT. Like an idiot, Damian stared at the slightly cracked old wooden front door in front of him. He easily could've knocked on the door but he couldn't.

He felt ridiculous. He couldn't explain why he was at her apartment of all places but he just knew he needed to leave the manor. Damian couldn't stay there, not with his presence reappearing in his life as if he had never left.

He turned on his heel, ready to walk away and act like nothing happened when he heard the door open.

"Mama!" A deeper voice than Sasha's but still very feminine yelled. "I'm gon— who the fuck are you?"

The woman in the doorway could only be described as short with a lot of attitude. She was a short Dominican middle-aged woman on the verge of forty with dark slanted eyes, a wide nose, and full lips. Her hair was styled into a short pixie cut and she dressed in nursing scrubs.

The women lean against the doorway, "Who the hell are you?" She spoke with a slightly almost faint accent and crossed her arms. "Why are you outside of my home?"

"My name is Damian Wayne," Damian said after a moment. "I'm Natasha's project partner."

The woman eyed him before tilting her head back slightly. "Natasha!" She practically yelled that the top of her lungs. She glanced back at Damian with an intense stare. "Some boy is here for you."

"A boy?" He could hear footsteps approaching. "Mom, what are you - Damian?"

Sasha rounded the corner and stood next to her mother in the doorway. Her hair was a typical mess of frizziness but pulled up into a sloppy ponytail. She wore the same sweats he saw her in when he had to help her save Mikey's high ass from a party.

Her mother glanced between them, "You know this boy?"

Sasha shifted uneasily on her feet, "Uh...Mom, he's a...he's my project partner for school."

Can't even speak a proper sentence, Damian rolled his eyes.

Her mother hummed, "Fine," she looked sternly at Sasha. "But no funny business. You know how I feel about boys and remember your Abuela is still home."

While Damian remains unbothered by the accusation Sasha's face turns bright red. "Mama!"

Ignoring Sasha's protest and Damian's presence, Sasha's mother peppered her daughter's face with light kisses before adjusting her bag. "I'm off to work," she told Sasha. "And remember—"

"Make good choices," Sasha muttered. "Yeah, I know." Gloria spared Damian another stern glance before walking off.

Sasha scratched the back of her head, "Sorry about her," she muttered. "My mom can be...a lot sometimes. She doesn't like boys in the house. But it's just..."

Damian raised a brow, "No one will take you seriously if you can't form a proper sentence, Rocque."

So entitled.

"Why are you here?" She asked tightly through grit teeth. "Our portion of the project is finished right now. We weren't supposed to meet up again."

Fuck.

"I wanted to make some changes," Damian lied easily. "I've looked over the song list and I disagree with a couple of changes."

"You...you disagree?" Sasha asked. "We spent two weeks rearranging that song list. W-we can't just change it. You seemed fine with it two days ago."

"I'm not fine with it now," Damian replied.

Sasha opened her mouth—

"Natalia!" An older feminine voice with a thick accent rang throughout the home. Sasha visibly cringed at the purposeful mispronunciation of her name before sighing and telling him to wait there before disappearing inside of her home. Moments later she came back with shoes on and a ragged-looking tote bag.

"Look, I can't work on the project right now," Sasha told him, putting on her used dirty looking coat. "I have to run to the store. Grandma's hungry and we're out of bread for sandwiches. Then I have to run to the library to - um, Sorry. Look uh, the song selection is fine the way it is okay? I checked over it twice and—"

"I will be accompanying you," Damian told her.

Sasha paled, "What?"

He arched a brow, "Unless that is a problem."

She quickly shook her head, "I mean no but—"

"Then what's the problem, Rocque?"

"I...I don't know I just...I was really looking forward to having the weekend to myself and..." she sighed. "Let's go."

SEPTEMBER 14TH,
GOTHAM CITY, NEW YORK
CRIME ALLEY
11:30 a.m.

DAMIAN SOON FOUND OUT THAT WHEN SASHA SAID SHE NEEDED TO GO GROCERY SHOPPING DID NOT MEAN SHE SHOPPED AT A ACTUAL GROCERY STORE.

"Why are we here?" Damian asked dryly as he stared at the rundown-looking Dollar Tree store in front of him.

Sasha pulled out a shopping cart, "This is where I buy groceries," she told him. She started to push the cart around the store. "Actual grocery stores are too expensive." She picked up a can and eyed the label. "Plus most of the stuff is usually not expired."

More like her mom was too embarrassed to apply for food stamps in contrast to Sasha who didn't care about what people thought about her applying for food stamps as long as they had food. But that was a conversation for another day. Her mother was a prideful woman and though she knew they didn't have much and accepted their circumstances it never stopped her mom from feeling embarrassed. Sasha didn't particularly care. Sure, she knew she didn't have the best life at home but she just learned to never want for anything. She only bought things she needed. Food (if food, in general, counted as bread, peanut butter and jelly, and cereal) and that was it. The way she saw life was as long as you never wanted much you would never need much. When she told that to Mikey he looked at her like she was crazy and offered to buy her a sandwich (which Sasha quickly denied of course).

It was a life she was okay with. Her mom worked, and Sasha worked. They went half on rent and Sasha paid for the groceries and a couple of bills while her mom paid the rest. Maybe it was unusual for some people but Sasha would never find it embarrassing to need to survive.

Sasha looked at Damian who looked oddly fascinated by the low prices. "You've never been to the dollar store before?" she asked.

"Alfred does all of the shopping," Damian said dryly.

Makes sense.

The awkward silence was exchanged between them as neither of them knew what to say to each other. Sasha only continued to show copious amounts of bread and jam into her basket and Damian could only watch. Sasha didn't know what to say, communicating with the human species who weren't Mikey had always been a challenge for her. She was always nervous around people she did know well so she was always uncomfortable.

"So..." Sasha drew out. "What was wrong with the song list?"

Damian frowned, "What?"

"You came over because you wanted to fix a project?" Sasha said unsurely, tilting her head slightly. "Uh...right?"

He cleared his throat, "Right, of course." he said after a moment.

Sasha stared at him oddly. Taking in his tired-looking eyes and wondered why she hadn't noticed his distraught appearance sooner. If it was one thing she learned about Damian over their two weeks of working together it was that Damian was a creature of habit. He has similar-looking clothes every day, the same gelled hair, a posture of confidence, and the same strong vanilla-scented cologne. He always looked the same every day so it was easy to see when something about him was off. Today he looked different. It was a big change but if someone who was forced to be as observant as Sasha was you had no choice but to notice.

For instance, his clothes were wrinkled. It was a big deal, especially for someone like Sasha whose clothes were always wrinkled but Damian's clothes always looked perfect, never an inch or crease out of place. His hair was gelled but there were a few strands of jet black hair out of place (She resisted the urge to smooth his hair down with the palm of her hand). His posture was tall as always but somehow felt lacking in confidence.

"Unless...you're lying to me?" she offered. She wasn't a human lie detector but it was easy to see something was off about Damian. He clearly wouldn't have driven an hour to the crime alley just for a project when he could've called her. If it was really that big of a deal he would've called her to catch the next bus to his house, Damian never came to her it was always Sasha going to Damina.

He halted, "I'm not lying," he said flatly.

"You wouldn't have come all the way down here – an hour and a half away from your house – just to work on a project," Sasha replied, gripping her hands on the shopping cart. "Look...if there was really a problem you would have called me to catch the closest bus to your house like you always do. You never come here...out of your own free will at least...clearly, you're not just here to work on a project you said was good two days ago."

Though I don't know why you came to me of all people.

Damian remained silent and Sasha eyed him. "Is...is something bothering you? If you want can just...trauma dump on me I guess?"

"What?"

"Trauma dumping? It's like uh," she paused. "You just release and tell a person your problems and they like," she shifted on her feet. "Listen to your issues so you can find a solution. I'm just offering because I know you're not here just to work. You can't find a solution unless you talk about it."

"Who says I need a solution?"

"They're called problems because they have a solution." She glanced away, avoiding his harsh gaze. "Sorry...I-I'm not trying to be in your business or anything but..."

"Speak, Rocque."

"You just looked like you were having a bad day," Sasha told Damian. She looked up at him uneasily, awaiting an angry reaction, but instead, Damian remained in complete silence. Occasionally looking at him uneasily, Sasha continued her shopping until–

"My family came home," Damian said flatly. Sasha faced him only to find him purposely looking in the other direction with his arms crossed defensively. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, she never expected him to actually say something. "After being gone for a long period of time."

Try years.

"And...that's a bad thing?" Sasha asked hesitantly.

"It is not terrible."

"But it's not good either?"

He nodded curtly, "Yes."

"Oh...do you wanna talk about it?"

Damian shook his head and to his slight surprise Sasha shrugged and said, "Okay." She wasn't going to push him to talk about something he didn't want to talk about.

"It's not bad," Damian repeated after a moment, seemingly changing his mind. "I suppose I'm not adapted to them returning after being gone for so long."

"Did...did you want them to come back?"

He looked off into the distance, "I don't know."

"Oh," Sasha murmured.

She didn't know what she'd do if her dad came back after being gone for so long. She knew her mom was still counting her days on the calendar for his return but she never counted on him actually coming back at least not while she was still in high school. But if he did come back...

She tightened her grip on her cart. "I-I get that I guess. I mean obviously, we're not in the same situation," she gestured between them "but um if my dad suddenly just came back into my life...I'd be pretty confused too." Before he could ask, Sasha lied easily and said, "he's away right now...military."

His eyebrows furrowed slightly but maintained his composure. After reading her file he obviously knew Sasha's father was in prison for drug trafficking and distribution. Though she didn't know of his knowledge he couldn't understand—-

Why are you lying?

For someone who seemed so unashamed of her financial situation and honest Sasha Rocque was a liar. A good liar at that, if he hadn't been a detective in training he easily would have believed her. It seemed there was more to Sasha than he thought.

Interesting...

Damian's eyes zeroed in on a woman across the store in the infant section. He watched with calculating eyes as she looked around before stuffing a box of diapers under her shirt and high tailing for the exit. He took a step forward when he felt something soft with the speed that could've made the Flash jealous take capture of his wrist. Instantly his muscles tensed before he realized the person gripping his wrist so tightly was Sasha.

He drew his eyes upward and his green eyes met her brown ones. For the first time, she stared at him calmly, not seeming nervous or uneasily in front of him for the first time. Sasha looked at him with slightly flat, unnerving, brown eyes. He yanked his wrist out of her soft (too soft) hand.

"Don't," was all Sasha said.

He scowled, "Did you not witness the same crime as I did, Rocque? She was stealing."

"I saw," Sasha said. She continued to look at the expiration labels of food packages as if she had not witnessed the theft. "But I'm not going to stop her."

"That woman is a thief."

Damian watched as Sasha looked out the same glass door the women left. Her cinnamon-colored eyes furrowed and slightly squinted. Her lips twitch at the end as if trying to smile but failing terribly. She looked exhausted.

To Sasha, it was clear Damian had never spent an actual day in Crime Alley. Stealing was normal. It's not that people wanted to steal, they had to. Living in a place like Gotham was expensive especially with everything going up in prices to help repair any damage left on the city by villains. Most people couldn't even afford to move even if they wanted to. No one had money, they barely had a chance to make it out of the city. So, yeah, Sasha may not agree with stealing but she would never judge someone for stealing. People needed to do what they had to do to survive.

Sasha gave him a long exhausted stare. "Sometimes people need to steal, okay?" Catching on to his judgy look Sasha quickly corrected herself, "Look...this is a crime alley. No one here has money, it's not like people live here voluntarily, okay? I'm not saying I agree with it but for all you know she could be a single mom who's just trying to get diapers for her baby. You never know what someone's going through."

"Being poor doesn't give you the right to steal, Rocque."

"You're right but it does give you the right to survive," Sasha started to make her way to checkout. "You just don't get it."

He followed after her. "What is there I don't understand?" he asked, helping her put her groceries on the checkout tray. She looked at him oddly for the small act of help.

"You just don't get it," she said quietly.

"Explain it and then I can possibly understand," he said snappily.

"Damian," she pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled deeply. "You...you're spoiled, okay? I don't know much about you b-but from what I've gathered you've never had to steal something in your life. And nothing is wrong with that but...but the people here," she gestured around them. "They don't have an endless amount of money at their display or a butler who shops at an actual grocery store and can afford to spend more than twenty bucks a month on food. The people here, I, don't have that luxury." she sniffed. "all we can do is survive and hope somehow we can get out of here alive. So, you can't judge someone for trying to do their best. Just accept it and mind your own business. The term "snitches-get-stitches" is real around here by the way."

Someone cleared their throat behind them, "Uh...that'll be thirty-four dollars and fifty cents," the cashier said from behind the counter.

Avoiding Damian, Sasha swallowed thickly and pulled out her wallet. "Thirty-four fifty?" she asked. "I...I only got twenty dollars worth of stuff. This has to be a mistake."

The cashier gave her a look that could only be described as pitying, "Our store taxes went up a lot," he replied. "Joker's last attack left the entire city hungry for repair fees."

Sasha stared at all the food she had planned to buy. Fuck it, they'll just ration some sandwiches until her next paycheck, "Okay...um...can you just take out the jelly and all of the-"

"Here." A darkly tanned hand reached over her and handed the cashier a slick-looking black credit card. "I will pay."

The cashier started to swipe-

Sasha flushed, "Oh no he won't be-"

The card scanner flashed green. Approved.

"paying," Sasha finished lamely, her shoulder dropping.

SEPTEMBER 14TH,

GOTHAM CITY, NEW YORK

CRIME ALLEY SUBWAY STATION
12 p.m.

DAMIAN LEARNED THE SUBWAY WAS DISGUSTING. Never in his life had he had to ride the subway and he was thankful he never did. The people smelled revolting and were loud. The seats all had gum or unrecognizable fluids. Someone even got on the metro with a bomb box and started to tell everyone on the train about how they were an inspiring young rapper and asked everyone to listen to them rap one of their songs.

Some man started yelling loudly on the subway and Damian turned to glance back at him but Sasha quickly shook her head. "Don't stare at them," she whispered quietly. "Just mind your own business and keep looking forward."

Damian gritted his teeth. He hated taking orders. It was the main cause of conflict between him and his father. But just this once he would keep his mouth shut. "Is it always like this?"

She glanced at him, "Just be happy a fight hasn't broken out yet."

He paused, "I suppose my assumption earlier about that woman...was inaccurate."

Sasha turned to him so fast she could've easily gotten whiplash, her jaw dropped. "Are...are you admitting to being wrong?" she asked.

He scowled, "I am admitting nothing...I am simply acknowledging my miscalculation. I did not realize all of the hardship the people of your community faced."

The side of her lip started to curl lightly and her lips pursed shut. She gave the smallest of a smile, just the barest appearance of teeth, and one side of her lips tugged upward in a playful grin. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, eyes wide and humorous. It was only then he realized he had never seen another expression on Sasha's face other than a frown. She looked different when she smiled, lighter, happier. Even if it was a smile as small and as short as this one it was still ingrained in his memory.

She looked away, trying to hide her small smile but failing terribly.

"Is something funny, Rocque?" He demanded, his face feeling hot.

Sasha sniffled a laugh, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry, it's just...actually what you did was good honestly...you can't learn anything if you're never wrong," she looked back in his direction. "I wasn't laughing at you I just never thought I'd hear you admit to being wrong."

"Be happy," he said a bit snappily, his face warmer and warmer as seconds passed. "This was a one-time occurrence. It will never happen again."

Her small smile grew wider, more playful, "If you say so, Damian." She leaned her head against the window next to her seat. "I do have a question though if you don't mind answering...Why did you do that earlier?"

Damian continued to have his eyes trained ahead."I don't know what you're talking about."

"You paid for my groceries...why?" Sasha asked. "I-I mean, not that I'm not grateful, because I am, truly, and I will pay you back when I get paid. But you've never done anything like that before and-"

"You looked like you were having a bad day."

Sasha frowned, "H-Huh?"

"That is why I did it," Damian answered. He looked at her out of the corner of his emerald green eyes. "You looked like you you were having a bad day."

Sasha's breath hitched slightly as she stared at him with big eyes. She tried to open her mouth but she soon found words wouldn't come out. She swallowed thickly.

You looked like you were having a bad day.

Someone had actually noticed?

"I...thank you," she said quietly.

SEPTEMBER 14TH,
GOTHAM CITY, NEW YORK
CRIME ALLEY

THOMAS WAYNE MEMORIAL LIBRARY

1 p.m.

DAMIAN SOON FOUND OUT SASHA LOVED THE LIBRARY. It seemed she was a frequent visitor judging by how all of the librarians knew her by name. He couldn't remember the last time he went to a library outside of the one at the manor. He trailed after her, easily holding the Dollar Tree groceries in his hands even though she had tried to convince him that she could carry them all herself.

"S-Sorry if this is boring," Sasha said, walking down the classic literature aisle. "I just need to pick up a couple of books then we can leave, I swear."

It's fine, Damian wanted to say but didn't. He wouldn't Natasha Rocque any indication he was starting to find her company tolerable as annoying as she still very much was.

"I know this place isn't the fanciest-," Sasha started to say. She walked around the library like every part of it was molded into her memory.

She was not wrong. Like everything he had seen in crime alley the library was old, desperately needing some remodeling with the books on the selves practically falling apart, small cracks in the ceiling, and windows so dirty it looked like it was fogged.

"-but it's home," she finished.

He watched while she bent over and scanned her eyes over the titles in the Jane Austin section. He crossed his arms over his chest, "You indulge in classic literature?"

Her nose wrinkled. Who says "indulge" anymore?

She glanced up at him, "Uh...it's all my mom would let me read when I was little since we didn't have a tv. I've learned to enjoy it." She straightened her poster and locked her eyes on the copy of Emma that sat on the top row. Instantly, Sasha reached up to grab the book only to find it too far out of reach. Refusing to ask for help, she stretched to the tips of her toes. While muttering annoyed swear words under her breath and with the help of a bit of hopping her hand finally came close to the book when someone else's larger, lighter-toned, hand closed over the book and pulled it off the self.

Sasha settled back onto her feet, "Hey?" she circled around and-

Ah.

She came face to face with a book held out in front of her. Her eyes drew upwards and Damian towered over her, his face changeless but only an arched eyebrow. She choked on her spit as he continued to stare at her expectedly. It was only then she realized he was close. Too close. So close she could smell his strong expensive cologne.

Vanilla.

Even though he was only her project partner, not even a friend or peer, it was only then Sasha realized Damian was a boy. Of course, she knew he was male but her mind had only clicked that someone of the opposite sex was right in front of her. Too close, and chest to chest.

"You're making a fool out of yourself," Damian spoke then added, "More than usual."

Sasha cleared her throat, "Thank you," she cringed at the high pitch of her voice. She took the book, hugged it to her chest, and as smoothly as she could (which was not smooth at all) she slipped away from him and walked away towards more books, this time heading to the Arthur Conan Doyle section.

"Oh, I meant to ask," Sasha started, grabbing the first Sherlock Holmes novel and adding it to her pile. "You never told me what you thought of the music I recommended."

"What recommendations?"

Sasha whirled around to face him. "What?"

Damian stared at her. "Earlier you offered music suggestions. What are they?"

"Uh...Paramore's self-titled album is great," Sasha said awkwardly after a moment. "Every Brent Faiyaz song is good too. He never misses a mark."

"Your music taste...has exceeded my already low expectations," He admitted.

Her lip twitched, "I'd offer more recommendations but I don't think you'd be into show tunes," she told him.

Tell me your recommendations, he wanted to say. But instead, the words that came out were, "You're not wrong."

Looking at him again, Damian's physical appearance seemed visibly better. He wasn't smiling or anything, Sasha was pretty sure the guy didn't know how to smile, but he didn't seem so...distressed as he did earlier. He didn't look happy, but he looked better and that was all she could ask for.

"Why did you come to me of all people?" She couldn't help but ask. It was a question that had been lingering on her mind all day since his arrival at her house.

Damian didn't answer for a while. There was a moment, then two, then three before he said, "I didn't have anywhere else to go."

Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again before returning shut. That was how she felt a lot of the time. There was nowhere or no one she could escape to when upset or overwhelmed. Sure, there was her mother but Sasha would never burden her with Sasha's problems, there was Mikey but she didn't see him around as often as she did when they were young. All Sasha ever had was herself and it seemed as if Damian was the same way too.

After checking out her books, Sasha stuffed them into her bag and shrugged it over her shoulder. "Alright, we can go." Damian followed after her, watching every step she took.

He wasn't ready to go home yet. Not yet. Just a little bit longer.

Just a bit longer with her.