Re: quicklog -- steph/dami: wayne manor.
[He didn't want it. A second chance. Whatever she thought, he'd deny it until she stopped insisting. How could it be a second chance when he hadn't a first? And, more importantly, why should he seek the approval of others, especially those beneath him? He didn't. He wouldn't. He would deny his so-called love for Alfred. He would deny all of it and he'd believe himself absolutely. He was removed. He wasn't the man they remembered, they weren't the people he remembered with the vague recollection of childhood, and, thus, he would not allow himself to worry about it, or them. It meant nothing to him if Stephanie provided him with some chance to leave an impression on her. What did he care? He'd never asked for that.
Perhaps it was Damian's way of clinging to his own old hurt, but he didn't think of it in a manner such as that. He didn't think of it at all. He made the hard T-sound of his scoff in a flap of tongue on enamel, eyes rolling in conjunction, when the woman on the counter lifted a manicured brow at him.] Harley Quinn has a PhD, so—[He scrubbed at her thigh, and the words were right there, ready to come out sharp and mean, but something killed them, slaughter on pink. He refused to believe it was that twitching smile, the one that telegraphed insecurity on the subject with overheavy fingers connecting stylus to metal plating, completing a circuit one need not decipher to understand.] Only slightly, [he corrected, large eyes shifting back down to Stephanie's leg.
For a moment, he worked with quiet intensity, something he likely inherited more from his father than mother. He smirked at her offended response, but he didn't say anything. The rag rubbed red. He stood from his stoop to refold it to a cleaner side, just as the woman above him swung her leg up. He ducked back quickly and eyed her.] No. I don't need to see your jeans on you. Thank you. This presentation is enough. [He almost smiled, and, as it so often was, whether the intention was insult or humor, it was difficult to tell. A white corner of that rag daubed on the other leg.]