Damian was a light sleeper. It was a skill he had learned at a very young age. An assassin was caught unaware at his own peril. His sleeping habits had changed only slightly since coming to Gotham. It had taken him time to adjust to the particulars of the Manor, first to the sounds of the buildings and the grounds, then to the occupants. Over time, Damian had adjusted to Ophelia's presence. She never quite roused him to full consciousness unless there was hissing or she had found an uncomfortable position on the bed. Titus, on the other hand, never failed to wake up.
The process had repeated itself at Gotham Academy. Adjusting to a different building, with lack of insulation, tiered floors, and a roommate. Jørgensen was prone to snoring fits late at night. Damian still managed to get sleep but it was easily broken. He'd often wake in his dorm, take a moment to figure out what had awoken him, and once satisfied drift off to sleep again. It wasn't the most ideal situation but it also wasn't as if classes were terribly difficult.
This night, however, Damian hadn't heard the door open but he did hear Titus move and shift. He turned his head slightly, eyes opening to slits. He was tense but not overly so. Titus would have barked if there had been a threat. It only took him a few moments to identify Loki.
It wasn't until Loki had more or less settled himself (clearly showing no sign of moving) that Damian shifted in his bed to face him. He poked him in the shoulder.
"What are you doing?" he asked. His voice was low not wanting to attract attention but his words were alert, as if he'd been awake for hours instead of moments.