Damian hadn't realized how much he needed fresh air until he was standing outside Alex's apartment, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, the cold biting at his skin. The city felt alive tonight—cars rushing by, neon signs flickering in and out of focus, the low hum of life moving forward. It was grounding. It was distracting. But it wasn't enough.
Alex stood next to him, leaning against the railing just outside the building's entrance, arms crossed, watching him. He didn't say anything, didn't push, just let the quiet settle between them. Damian appreciated that.
It was still too much to process all at once.
"Walk with me," Damian muttered, glancing at Alex before stepping onto the sidewalk.
Alex didn't hesitate, falling into step beside him.
They moved in silence for a while, passing dimly lit streets and storefronts closing up for the night. The world around them felt distant, like a backdrop to something much more pressing, much more immediate.
Damian wasn't sure how to start, how to put into words the knot of emotions twisting in his chest. Every time he thought about last night—about waking up next to Alex, about the way it felt so easy and terrifying all at once—his mind spiraled.
"You ever feel like… you're standing at the edge of something, but you don't know if you should take the step forward or just walk away?" Damian asked suddenly, his voice quieter than he meant for it to be.
Alex tilted his head, considering. "Yeah," he said after a beat. "A lot, actually."
Damian scoffed. "And what do you usually do?"
Alex smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Jump."
Damian let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Of course you do."
"But that's me," Alex added, his voice softer now. "I don't think before I act. You do."
That was the problem, wasn't it? Damian always thought too much. Analyzed every move, every outcome, every risk. It kept him safe. It kept things predictable.
But this? This thing with Alex wasn't predictable at all.
They reached a small park, the kind that was mostly empty at night, a few streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. Damian stopped near a bench, exhaling hard before turning to face Alex.
"I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted, forcing himself to hold Alex's gaze. "I don't even know what I want this to be."
Alex studied him for a moment, unreadable as always. Then he shrugged. "Who says you have to know?"
Damian opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Alex stepped a little closer, his voice steady. "Look, man, I'm not asking for answers. I'm not asking for you to figure this out overnight. I just—" He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just don't want you to think you have to run from it."
Damian swallowed hard. "And what if I do?"
Alex didn't look surprised by the question. He just held Damian's gaze, unwavering. "Then you do. But it won't change the fact that I'll still be here when you stop running."
That was the thing about Alex. He wasn't afraid of the waiting, wasn't afraid of the uncertainty. Damian had spent so much of his life trying to outrun things—his feelings, his fears, the things he couldn't control—but Alex? Alex didn't run.
And maybe that was what scared Damian the most.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air was thick with everything unspoken, everything that couldn't be put into words.
Then, finally, Damian let out a breath, slow and shaky. "I don't know how to not overthink this."
Alex smirked, his eyes warm despite the teasing edge to his voice. "Then don't think. Just be here."
Damian rolled his eyes, but for the first time all day, something inside him loosened. Just a little.
Maybe he wasn't ready to take the jump.
But at least, for now, he wasn't running.