Re: dami/holly apartment
If there'd been any doubt whatsoever Damian Wayne was just a boy, baby Bat or not? It was gone in the second she caught him eating ramen like he was thirteen and barely begun growing. But the toast? Was done, and she grabbed it with a pinch of fingers and a juggle of hot bread and palms to the nearest plate, and her stomach rolled over. It had been hours, if not days and she ate without pause, quick-quick bites and swallow and the food sliding to sit heavily in her cramped stomach.
"Gotham will go back to normal after," the dawn was creeping around the window, the light yellow-thin through thin curtains. People stayed the same, even when things changed because they knew the same. "But you don't have a lot to say about hygiene right now." Tease, and it was easy, bare feet on bare floorboards and she didn't think of safe when it was just a Wayne in the apartment.
"I might have something." A stockpile of t-shirts, worn big enough to sleep in, and sweatpants that slung low enough on the hips to be comfortable in bed. The bedroom was small, tiny, just enough room for a mattress and a rail on the wall. "It depends how attached you are to looking like a superhero."