Youâd had plenty of time at Wayne Enterprises to hear about the Wayneâs eccentricities. From Bruce Wayneâs twenty million âskiing accidentsâ to Damianâs excessive arrogance and total lack of social common sense, you knew they were trouble. And yet, when the opportunity arose for a promotion, you grabbed it with both hands and almost flung yourself at it in desperation.
You hadnât planned it this way, of course. Living in a shabby flat after college and being this close to eviction wasnât even one line in your life plan but here you were.
Overall the job wasnât too bad. Being Damian Wayneâs assistant was⊠time consuming and energy draining. But, you learnt that Damian, once he found you useful, put all his effort into learning you and your social clues. He really wasnât as bad as they all made him seem.
The two of you had created an unsaid pattern in the office. He comes in at 9:30 on the dot, coffee (black, no sugar) must be ready and on his desk, schedule for the day sent via email the night before and reminders throughout the day. Mostly simple.
It took ages to learn how he wanted things done, when he wanted them done but you always did take information in quick and well you really loved learning. (The paycheque was incredibly generous too)
âââ ⊠âââ
Youâd been typing out the list of guests to the next Wayne gala, adding in Damian Wayne deemed âtolerable peopleâ while removing people âunsuitableâ for his tastes (which were rather a lot of people) when he walked in.
The infamous Tim Drake. Current majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises and third adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Though it was a little ironic you were starstruck by his reputation and power even with Damian Wayne as your boss he seemed wildly different and thus intriguing.
Besides the noticeable black circles under his eyes, his skin was smooth, silky black hair almost falling past his eyebrows and though his suit was rumpled you could clearly tell it was handcrafted for the man. His thumbs frantically hit his phoneâs keyboard as if he were racing against its capabilities.
His eyes didnât even reach yours when he spoke, tired voice lilting out his mouth, âHey. Damian said you were doing the guest list, are you done?â
As you voiced your surprise, he lifted his eyes and suddenly stopped. Unmoving, lips parted like he was about to speak but nothing came out. Short circuit over.
His eyes flickered across your face, your form. He was cataloguing. Every inch of you, from your hair type and your eye colour to his estimate of your shoe size was being filed in his server of a brain.
âSorry Mr Drake, are you alright?â
His hand came up to his head, his fingers carding through his hair though the hair obstinately moved back. âUhâye-yeah sorry. What did you say again?â
Your mouth started moving, not noticing how he zoned out again. He was staring⊠but how could you question him? Heâs⊠well heâs Tim Drake.
His cheeks flushed when he realised he didnât hear a thing you said again. âRight thanks uhâsent it to me when youâre done.â
Damian walked in, pinning Tim with a weird (for lack of a better word) stare. âDrake. What business do you have here?â âJust uh⊠asking about the guest list.â
âRight well. You can leave now.â
âââ ⊠âââ
The next week was⊠interesting to say the least. After one meeting with him Tim Drake seemed to be desperate for more. He dropped coffee off at your desk after youâd dropped Damianâs off. He stopped by to âsay hi to Damianâ about 3 times a day and kept offering you help âshould you need it.â
It shouldnât have shocked you when he walked in and asked you to call him by his first name and not âMr Drakeâ but it did. He came into your office in a hoodie instead of the usual black suit, his hair was tousled and his hands were nervously in his pockets.
âSoâŠâ he said your name, almost cautiously as if youâd run away at his use of it.
âYes?â
âDo you remember that Wayne gala guest list you were creatingâŠ?â
âOh, yes of course, I thought I sent it to your assistant two weeks ago. Though I donât mind resenââ
âAh well yes you did. I justâwell I need a plus-one and I was kind of thinking of askingâŠyou.â
âMe?â You pointed at yourself. âUhmâŠwell I⊠that would be⊠Iâve never gone to anything like this.â âThatâs fine, Iâve done it since I was 13. Iâll teach you.â
With a hesitant but hopeful sigh you smiled. âAlright Mr DraâTim, Iâll be your plus-one. Thanks for inviting me.â He flashed you his signature well-talked-about smile before shoving his hands into his pockets and strolling out.
You definitely didnât hear Damian âttâ at Timâs air punching when he came into the office.
A/n: So hereâs a small super short part, lmk what you guys think. Idk if imma make part 2 but if I do itâs gonna be very cliche⊠anyways hope you enjoyed :)
