Re: quicklog -- steph/dami: wayne manor.
[His stormy blue eyes were different from hers, so different and so much like his fathers, and she knew, she knew that she could break through that once again. She'd done it before -- multiple times in fact -- and she was determined to make it happen again. She loved Damian, she treasured him as one of the most important people in her life even if it had been years since that had been so. Even if this one in front of her wasn't the one that had become so close to her when she arrived in this Gotham. And, she knew that was unfair; she knew she would want a second chance to make her mark on everyone if she'd come back as a Stephanie that no one knew. But, she still held those memories, and they were hard to shake. Memories, for her, had always been that way. Unconsciously, she always held onto them. It was why she still clung to the hurtful things her parents had done to her as a child. It was why she still sought Bruce's approval even she knew she had secured it years ago, it was why she still hung onto the hurt her destroyed marriage dug into her skin even when Eddie had clearly moved on.
Hurt. Old hurt. And that was what she had when she locked her bright blues to Damian's stormy Waynes.
But, she was determined to give him a second chance. It was the least she could do, after all. He wanted it; she wanted it. So, she let him clean her wounds without much difficulty or resistance. She let him grab her leg, and she didn't think about how dark fingers gripped her thin muscles to steady them. She just looked at him, and she did roll her eyes when he commented on things. Alfred? He earned a hard look, actually. Stephanie knew that Damian loved the older man, even if he wanted to deny it. Alfred was a critical person in so many of their lives. Damian included. So, just a hard look, a frowning of her lips and a slight darkening of her bright eyes before she chuckled quietly.] I'll be the judge of that. I've got an MD, after all. [A quirk of her eyebrow.] Surprise? I'm actually smart?
[And maybe her doctorate was a lot (a lot) of studying and hard work, but she was so fucking proud of what she'd accomplished. The twitch of her smile told him that she really, really didn't want to be critiqued on that. And if he did? He'd probably get a swift kick to the head, no matter what Damian it was. She eyed him for a moment before rolling her eyes.] No, but a week and change in the jungle doesn't leave much left for clothes. I was running from dinosaurs. There's lots of rips in my jeans. Wanna see them for proof? [She smirked, but then rolled her eyes hard before going back to laser focus on the rag to make sure he cleaned it properly enough before she moved onto breakfast (which was always more important than almost anything else. She and Leslie Knope (who she loved immensely) had that (among others) in common: they both loved breakfast foods. And so, she swung her available leg up for good measure to emphasize the point that she was offended by all that.]