~•~

Trust: to believe that someone is good and honest and will not harm you, or that something is safe and reliable.

~•~

Alina lost count of how long she'd been staring at the wall. The creamy, gray wall would most likely etch her mind until the end of time.

Damian Wayne is Robin. Alina couldn't get it. Why didn't she realized it sooner?

A part of her was relieved that he wasn't actually gay, and that he wasn't a stripper, because it would mean that there's a possibility of him being with her.

The funny thing is,

She's not mad.

She understands as to why he kept such a secret from her, and honestly; if she was in his situation, she'd do the same.

She sighs, putting her book away. She felt torn out, un wanting to stress herself even more.

Her energy was slowly draining, day by day, regardless of those pills; and she knew the cause.

Her sickness. Something she didn't really wanted anybody to know. Her family are the only ones aware of her condition.

Marcus had been trying to call her earlier in the morning, but she simply didn't want to reply. She was trying her best to avoid her family, which was basically impossible, since she's a Princess.

Funny, most girls would kill to fill her shoes, whilst she's ready to give everything up just to be a normal girl.

"Is it that hard to pick up your phone, your Royal Highness?"
Alina turned around, to see Marcus by the doorway, resisting the urge to throw him out as he entered her suite unceremoniously, walking slowly towards her.

"Where are your manners, Tarrant? A princess must have her privacy." Alina mutters, reaching for her book, but frowns as he takes it away.

"I thought you had fainted again. Don't you scare me like that again, Alli. And since when there was ever any formality between us?" Marcus sighs, throwing the book onto the carpet.

Alina couldn't help but stay quiet, as she stares blankly at her book, on the carpet, the pages probably dented by his stupid action.

"What do you want this time? Michael is getting married? Oh wait, but he's only twelve, is he?" Alina snickers, standing up, leaving towards the kitchen, her stomach grumbling, demanding food.

Marcus follows, his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes at the Princess's sarcasm. Something he was used to.

He watches her carefully. Alina opened one of the cabinets, takes out a pan, and lights the electric stove. His heart warmed up at the sight, seeing his little girl cook.

Alina's father, King Thomas, had never been there for her. And Marcus gladly filled the position. Alina was his daughter, blood related or not. There was no fighting it.
And he won't hesitate to kill anyone that tries to harm her.

He watches her carefully as she fries an egg, adding various spices to it. Alina Vanderbilt learned to cook. That's new.

"I want to bring David back here." Marcus sighs, unable to keep it any longer, his gaze dropping onto the floor, unable to stare at her.

"Are you out of your barrow? No." She replies calmly, flipping the egg over.

"Dear God.. Do you hate him that much?"

"Yes, I don't see why not. In fact, I am quite puzzled as to why you haven't strangled him yet. That, that man is a vile creature, Marc." Alina spats as she turned off the stove, taking a plate from the cabinet.

"Alina, you hate him because he tried to ask you out once." Marcus laughs, taking a seat on one of the white table chairs.

"Sorry, but I might be taken." Alina mutters as she sat down in front of him, cutting a piece of the egg.

Marcus laughs once again, completely oblivious to what she's just uttered.

Then it hit him.

"Wait, what?"

~

The alleyway was quaint and cobbled. The only thing illuminating it was a dim lightbulb, and the full moon up there, in the sky.

The sounds of footsteps splashing against water resonated between these stone walls, and the dim sounds of sirens could be heard in the background.

Damian Wayne, being his usual trouble and rebel self, decided to go further into the case without his father's approval.

One thing was sure:

If he wanted answers, he would have to ask the bad guys themselves.

As he came in front of a big oak door, he stopped, opening his hoodie. He didn't feel the need to wear his mask, since he was dealing with his grandfather's 'minions'. The people that had trained with him ever since he was a small toddler.

Before he could even open the door, a familiar sultry voice appeared from behind.

"I've been waiting for you, my son.."

____________________________

Thank you for reading!! <3

I am extremely sorry for the short chapter!! *please don't kill me*

I've been working on my university application, so yeah..

I will post an extra chapter, 'Cast & Characters', in about a few hours :)

Love,
         Sophia ⚜️