DAMIAN AL-GHUL WAYNE
chatfic + fanfic
WARNING :
OOC (MAYBE)
CRINGE (MAYBE)
FAN CANNON | HEAD CANNON
TIME SET AT LATE TWENTIES
You looked at Damian and scoffed.
"Ahh... so you're saying we're in the 'calf love' phase and it's distracting you a lot?" you asked, looking him up and down with an unimpressed expression. You swear you were this close to grabbing the broom sitting so innocently in the corner of the now-empty classroom and whacking him with it.
"Yeah" he admitted, his expression remaining completely straight.
"Pathetic." You scoffed, glaring at him.
"Fine! I don't even like you- especially your attitude!"
"You're just ridiculously good-looking!" you shouted before storming out of the classroom, leaving Damian standing there in silence.
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
You woke up from that dream as if you'd just experienced the creepiest thing imaginable.
Unfortunately, it wasn't just a dream.
It was a memory years ago.
Apparently, you'd gotten dumped for the first time in your life that day.
You were well known for your good looks and charming personality, so it had always been one of two things- you either dumped them first or rejected them before things could even get serious.
You'd never been the one getting rejected.
Never been the one left wondering what you did wrong.
Until Damian Wayne happened.
And ever since that day, you'd somehow lost the confidence you'd once carried so effortlessly.
You groaned and buried your face into your pillow for a few seconds, silently wishing you could erase the entire memory from existence.
It was embarrassing.
Worse, it was Damian.
Of all people.
You finally dragged yourself out of bed and started your morning routine like usual. After washing up, fixing your hair, and throwing on something comfortable, you grabbed a quick snack- a slice of bread- because you were lazy to make any special breakfast today.
You were halfway through taking a bite when your phone suddenly buzzed against the table.
You glanced down at the notification.
And froze.
Your eyebrows slowly knitted together as you stared at the notification appearing on your screen.
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
You stared at the message in confusion, brows furrowing as you reread it for what felt like the fifth time.
You were sure the last time you bought something online was weeks ago, and you'd already received everything you'd ordered.
So... what parcel were they talking about?
Curiosity getting the better of you, you grabbed your key cards and headed down to the apartment's parcel room to check for yourself.
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
You stared at the opened parcel in complete confusion.
Inside was a pair of daggers.
Real daggers.
You blinked several times, hoping that somehow you'd misread what you were looking at.
"Who the hell orders this online?"
Still confused, you picked up the parcel and looked at the shipping label again.
Floor 4, Unit 405.
Your eyes narrowed.
That was your unit number.
Except... you lived on the fifth floor.
"Wait."
You checked the label again just to make sure.
Same unit.
Different floor.
Then your eyes drifted toward the recipient's name.
'D. Al Ghul.'
You stared at it for a few seconds.
You didn't know anyone by that name.
And frankly, you weren't sure what kind of person casually ordered a pair of daggers to their apartment.
"Who even buys this?"
You sighed, carefully putting the daggers back into the parcel before taking out your phone.
There was a phone number printed beneath the recipient's name.
Well... if this wasn't yours, the least you could do was contact whoever it belonged to.
You saved the number temporarily and opened your messaging app.
Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment before you finally typed.
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
When he told you he'd come by in a few minutes, you immediately panicked.
You quickly rushed to your room, threw on some light makeup, changed into something cute, and spent an embarrassingly long time fixing your hair.
Be for real.
Who wouldn't?
Despite the weirdness of him purchasing daggers online, you'd taken the liberty of looking up the name on the parcel.
And after finding D. Al Ghul's profile picture, you couldn't exactly blame yourself.
The shirtless photo alone was enough to make you stare at your phone for a few seconds too long.
"Okay... wow."
You quickly locked your phone and shook your head.
Come on.
You've been single for quite a while now.
You were allowed to enjoy yourself a little.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with appreciating a ridiculously attractive man who might just be your new neighbour.
You weren't doing anything wrong.
You were simply being... observant.
Very observant.
Besides, you had already made a mental ranking of the hottest neighbours in your apartment building.
And judging from the profile picture alone, D. Al Ghul was definitely taking the number one spot.
You were still fixing the last few strands of your hair when you suddenly heard a soft ring from your doorbell.
Your eyes widened.
Oh.
He's here.
You quickly checked yourself in the mirror one last time before rushing toward the door.
Your heart was beating a little faster than it should have.
Probably because you were excited to finally meet your mysterious, ridiculously attractive neighbour.
You pulled the door open with a smile.
And there he was.
Black shirt.
Dark hair.
Broad shoulders.
And... oh shit.
He's tan.
Better.
Your eyes slowly travelled upward, already preparing yourself to greet the hottest man you'd seen in your apartment complex.
But then you looked at his face.
And froze.
The excitement vanished almost instantly, replaced by the most horrible combination of nervousness and awkwardness you'dy experienced in a long time.
You knew that face.
Unfortunately, you'd know it anywhere.
"...(Your Name) ?" he muttered, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at you.
"Damian?"
You stared at him in disbelief.
Silence.
For a few painfully long seconds, neither of you said anything.
Okay.
Let's be honest here.
He was hotter than he used to be.
Much hotter.
And, unfortunately, your prediction had been completely correct.
He was, without a doubt, the hottest neighbour.
The plot twist, however, was absolutely insane.
You had just spent the last twenty minutes getting ready for your ex-boyfriend.
Your ex-boyfriend who had dumped you.
Your ex-boyfriend who had been living on the fourth floor this entire time.
Your ex-boyfriend who apparently bought daggers online.
"Didn't expect—" Damian began, a small amused smile tugging at his lips.
Before he could finish, you slammed the door directly in his face.
"Rude" he chuckled
You immediately grabbed the parcel sitting beside the door, opened it just enough to reach inside, and pulled out the box.
You opened the door again for exactly two seconds.
"Here."
You threw the parcel directly at his chest.
Damian caught it with ease, staring at you with an expression that was somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
You immediately slammed the door shut again.
Click.
You locked it.
Then locked it again.
And stood there with your back pressed against the door, staring into absolutely nothing.
"...Fuck."
From the other side of the door came a quiet chuckle.
"You haven't changed at all."
You covered your face with both hands.
Of all the neighbours.
Of all the apartments.
Of all the people in the world.
It had to be Damian Wayne.
And somehow, that was still not even the worst part.
You'd dressed up for him.
You'd actually dressed up for him.
You slowly slid down against the door until you were sitting on the floor.
"I need to move."
A pause.
"Preferably to another country."
Outside, Damian chuckled again.
"You look nice, by the way."
Your eyes widened.
You immediately covered your face harder then quickly run to your room.
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
Ever since then he would find a way to actually annoys you. EVERY SINGLE DAYS EVEN THROUGH MESSAGES.
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄
