Klavdiya lets out an exasperated sigh, pulling Damian behind her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asks, her tone indicating she already knows the answer. "Did Valeria send you?"

"No one 'sent me'," the intruder responds, getting to his feet. Damian is already on guard. A part of him wants to swap places with the smaller teen standing defiantly between them, but he forces himself still knowing she needs no protection.

Though Klavdiya doesn't say his name, a quick analysis of his features and dimensions tells Damian all he needs to know. The young man is not as tall as Damian but far thicker, with brown curly hair and olive skin. He's Lucid, the eleventh member of the Twisted Twelve.

"Then why are you here?"

"I was passing through on the way to a job, knew you were in town," he responds, eyes flicking between her and Damian.

Klavdiya isn't satisfied, "How did you get my address?"

"I asked Arjan where you live."

"Why?" She snaps, the tiniest bolt of lightning cracking off of her chest, "Go find a hotel or something. I've had enough judgement for one day."

Some sort of realisation seems to dawn on Lucid. His eyes widen, flickering faster, before he slowly raises a finger and points at Damian.

"Is this that guy Reyansh told you about?"

It's the last straw for Klavdiya, who scoffs at his words. Right before Damian's eyes she seems to distort for a second, the familiar burnt sugar smell drifting around him. Only when an iridescent Louis Vuitton bag appears on her arm does he realise she had sped to her room and back.

"We're leaving," she tells him. The urge to attack the guy rises. Klavdiya must see it, because she takes a moment to look up at him and squeeze his arm, desperation in her eyes. He has never seen such an expression on her face.

So he doesn't say a word or argue as she takes his hand and leads him to the front door of the apartment. Damian automatically snags their coats off the hook at the door, not wanting her to have to walk through the cold.

"Klavdiya, wait. I'm only trying to look-"

"Oh I know what you're trying to do," she snaps back at Lucid as she tears open the front door. She's clearly trying not to shout or lose too much composure. Damian remains surprisingly silent as she pulls him out with her. "Feel free to stay here 'cause I'm not coming back."

As soon as she's slammed the door shut she starts hurrying away, though it seems clear Lucid isn't going to follow.

Neither of them say anything as they descend the fire escape stairs, still holding hands. So much had happened all in the space of thirty seconds. She had been so happy, so excited before they walked out of the bedroom.

Once they get down to the bottom, she stops with her hand on the lobby door.

Her eyes are glassy when she looks over her shoulder at him and apologises softly.

"Don't-" Cry? Get upset? "-Be sorry."

Every instance of comforting a crying person passes through his mind in a blink. Three times. Just three. Still, he feels very experienced here with her for some reason. Dropping the coats to the floor, Damian reaches out and takes her hands gently.

"You had every reason to yell," he says quietly, though questions arise in his mind. Why does everyone seem so hellbent on keeping them apart? From his family and her's?

Gently, he takes the bag off of her arm and places it on the ground. As soon as he spots a tear sliding down her face he takes her in his arms. Not even a month ago the face of a crying girl would do nothing to him. Now it pulls his heart every which way, painfully.

She quickly wipes her tears with the back of her hand against his chest.

"They always ruin things," she explains quietly, "It's another reason I was so excited to be here."

"Away from them?"

She nods, sniffing, "Mhm."

A sense of empathy rises in him. Damian can definitely understand older siblings, friends and family feeling as if they know better. Judging your life choices and entitling themselves to authority over you.

When she finally raises her eyes to his, she relaxes, a smile immediately replacing her sadness. "We were so happy a minute ago. Now I'm crying."

Unsure of what to say, Damian brings his hands to her face and in his hundredth unfamiliar act of the day, wipes the remaining wetness on her face away with his thumbs.

"My car's parked on the other side of the city," he says without thinking, then adds, "Have you ever tried Alfred's vegetable soup?"

The way she lights up and giggles at the mention of the butler seems to wash away all the pain in one hit.

"The one he puts alphabet spaghetti in?" She asks, turning around so Damian can help her get her coat on.

He quickly tugs his own on as he asks, "He put spaghetti in your vegetable soup?"

"I was seven, milashaka. It helped my English."

Damian scoffs and grabs her bag for her, "I'm sure."

She latches onto his arm. It feels most natural, Damian notes, as they head through the lobby together and out onto the street.

Early evening, people are either on their way home or out for dinner. Damian flips his hood up and together they look no different from any other couple braving the Winter weather.

Snow is light as drifts down upon them. While they're waiting at the lights within a crowd, Klavdiya suddenly looks up at him. Her face is understandably unaffected by the cold. Damian looks back at her, confused, until she leans up on her toes and kisses his lips softly.

It's a gentle gesture, something he would have never seen himself doing a month ago in a crowd of people. The embarrassment he always imagined never comes though. No one cares. They're just a normal young couple out on the town.

At the next intersection while Klavdiya is waving to a little boy who blushes, giggles and waves back, Damian texts Alfred by his hip.

"Bringing her. Don't tell them." 

He doesn't really speak as they travel through the city, apart from Klavdiya pointing out a few things she finds cute, or funny. Damian is happy to listen, holding her hand in his tightly. 

Who could possibly oppose such a sweet thing?

◊

◊

We fit perfectly in my car. 

It's a strange thought to have, but it crosses Damian's mind when he looks over at Klavdiya in his passenger seat. She has her head rested against the window, staring up at the night sky.

"There are less stars here," she tells him. "I come from a small town. You can see the whole sky there."

"Do you use your powers to travel the world?" He asks.

He doesn't look, but he can see her wondered grin in the corner of his eye.

"Yes," she whispers, "I have seen the cliffs of Dover, the Nullabor Plain, Mount Everest... but sometimes I was afraid of going out cause I didn't want to accidentally run into you and, you know, ruin our destiny."

Damian snorts, "You thought there was a chance I'd be at the cliffs of Dover?"

"Excuse me, weren't you just in France last week?"

"Robin was in France last week," he corrects, smirking.

They finally get out of the city, onto the wooded roads which lead to the manor. 

"I'm glad I didn't go to certain places on my own," she admits. He can hear the smile in her voice. "Places where you're supposed to go with someone." 

"Like where?" He asks, glancing at her.

"Paris, Venice, Bora Bora..." She lists dreamily. "Romantic places."

"If only you had a soulmate with his own private jet," Damian jokes boldly. His boasting pays off though when she giggles.

"If only."

Damian breathes a sigh of relief when they reach the manor and the only cars parked outside are Alfred's town car and Bruce's run-around Lamborghini. That means Dick, who is currently staying at the manor while in Gotham, is out. Tim is likely still at the office.

Before he even stops the door suddenly opens, a warm golden light streaming into the night. Alfred appears on the threshold. Damian feels a suction of air to his right and turns to see the car door open, then shut, leaving an empty seat.

Staring at the spot she was in not a second ago leads to him almost hitting the back end of his father's car. He stops just short though, and finds his passenger in the arms of his butler.

The sight brings a smile to his face. Alfred looks more animated than he has in months as Klavdiya chatters excitedly to him, both still embracing.

Before he gets out he reaches into the back seat and grabs her bag.

 "...Really, I couldn't! We had to run into each other at the right time. Reyansh told me- You remember which one is Reyansh, right? Seer? They said I had to come on a specific day, at a specific time!"

Damian tries to get rid of his smile the closer he gets to them, but when he seems the way Klavdiya is smiling at Alfred so fondly, he can't hide his affection.

Alfred sighs, "Well I suppose your letters sufficed."

"And now my English writing is pretty."

They walk in together and Damian hurries after them, looking forward to seeing her reaction to the manor, ten years after having first entered.

"I got it," he says as soon as Klavdiya starts to take off her coat with Alfred's help. The butler, surprised, backs away as Damian places Klavdiya's bag down and steps up behind her.

She looks back and up at him, smiling warmly as he holds the coat up for her to slip her arms out of.

Alfred watches the scene with silent intrigue. Damian using incorrect grammar is one thing, but seeing him willingly touch someone, smiling with big loving eyes at a girl is another.

"I'll make some tea," he mutters, though neither seem to hear him. 

He disappears into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

Klavdiya turns and takes Damian's face in her small hands, kissing him gently. 

When she draws back her eyes move to the ceiling

"Nothing has changed," she whispers with sparkly eyes reflecting from the curly chandelier above them. "At least, nothing here."

A few questions rise to Damian's mouth, but he doesn't ask them and instead takes her hand, leading her on to the dining room.

"New table Alfred?" She calls out, brushing the long mahogany piece with her nails as they head to the top.

"Well you see," Alfred begins from the kitchen, "One day Master Bruce had to retrieve something from under the old table, where he discovered the entire underside covered in different scratched graffito."

"I didn't know that," Damian frowns as Klavdiya laughs. He pulls the chair out for her methodically, as he's seen Bruce do for many of his guests. "What did the scratches say."

"Oh all sorts," Alfred responds, "'Jason was here' with a particularly crude use of a Z instead of an S. A dictionary of curses in far too many languages. Multiple hearts filled with initials, 'D+B', 'D+Z', 'D+K', 'D+D'. Ridiculous, really, they all ended up being scribbled over. It was also littered with impressive drawings of sci-fi characters matched with their sayings..."

Alfred's voice gets louder before he appears with two bowls on a platter. Damian stares at the alphabet vegetable soup that is placed down in front of him with amusement.

"I also seem to remember a chart somewhere near the bottom left corner of Russian letters to English, surrounded by stars and smiley faces."

Klavdiya hums mischievously, "I wonder who that was."

Alfred quirks an eyebrow, "Indeed."

The butler disappears back into the kitchen. Damian picks up his spoon but keeps his eyes trained on Klavdiya. There isn't a single drop of evidence to their earlier confrontation with Lucid. Instead she giggles into her bowl as she arranges the letters with her spoon.

"What are you spelling?" He asks, ducking his head to eat a spoonful of consonants and hide his blush.

"A-L-F-R-E-D," she announces happily.

Damian glances down at his bowl, rearranging the letters without saying them out loud.

"What did you spell?" She asks, finally starting to eat.

Damian smirks, "O-L-D."

There's a clatter in the kitchen, "Say what you must, but these ears are still young enough to hear everything, Master Damian."

The young couple share a silent laugh together.

As Klavdiya continues to joke with Alfred about his sight being just as sharp, Damian looks down at what is actually spelled out in yellow processed-carb letters in his bowl.

He scoops up the L at the start of the four letter word and stares at the remaining O-V-E.