Don't stop.
They were sitting on the Wayne Manor rooftop, the cool Gotham air swirling around them, the city glowing beneath their feet. It was supposed to be a quiet night—just the two of them, catching their breath after a long patrol.
But then Damian had looked at her—that way.
Like he was fighting something.
Like she was driving him insane just by existing.
Cassie smirked, tilting her head. "What’s your problem, Wayne?"
Damian exhaled sharply, his hands clenching into fists.
"It’s hard to sit here, be this close to you, and not kiss you," he admitted, voice low and rough.
Cassie blinked, heartbeat stuttering, but she recovered quickly, a teasing grin spreading across her lips.
"Then kiss me, idiot."
Damian’s jaw tightened, his green eyes darkening with something that made Cassie’s breath catch.
"The problem is," he murmured, leaning in, his forehead almost brushing against hers, their lips a breath apart, "if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop."
Cassie swallowed, her pulse pounding, but she refused to back down.
"Then don’t," she whispered, voice barely audible.
His breath hitched.
"Don’t stop."
And then—
He didn’t.
His lips crashed into hers, all heat and desperation, his hands gripping her waist like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth.
Cassie melted into him, fingers tangling into his dark hair, pulling him closer, deeper, more.
Because she never wanted him to stop either.
And for once—
Damian listened.