𝕊𝕆𝕃𝕀𝕍𝔸𝔾𝔸ℕ𝕋║[ᴅ. ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ]

ᴏᴍɴɪꜱʜᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ

Vin sat back on his and Damian's bench in Gotham Academy's outdoor entrance atrium. He checked his watch with a glance and saw that he had a few more minutes until the Waynes' butler, Pennyworth, picked him up. Deciding to forgo sketching for once, he enjoyed the small ray of sunshine that peeked through the heavy, smog-filled Gotham skyline. He would have closed his eyes and rested more if it wasn't, but one couldn't be too wary in Gotham. His clothes weren't what he would usually wear to a casual meetup, but his mother had wanted to make an excellent first impression and shoved a simple, white button-up shirt and some black slacks into his hands. Luckily, he had managed to sneak on his beat-up boots before putting on his black overcoat and slipping away. So, he was one-thirds casual?

Close enough.

As a rumbling noise grew closer, he saw the familiar limousine pull up. He could tell it was the Wayne's since it had a distinctive silver accent line along the hood. Standing up, he gathered his bag full of art supplies he had procured from his room at home. He didn't know what Damian would have, so he had taken the precaution of covering all corners by packing a small store onto his back.

The vehicle appeared safe, but he remained at a respectful distance. He didn't have time to be kidnapped into a stranger's car; it would be a pain to sort out, and he would be late for dinner. Most likely, covered in dirt and blood. There was no need to repeat last Boxing Day if he could avoid it. The window rolled down, and thankfully, it was the older man he remembered seeing briefly through the door when Damian climbed into the limo the last time he saw him off.

"Mister Bertinelli?" The man asked in a distinct, heavily English accent.

"Pennyworth?" He queried.

"Indeed, that is me. Please, do hop in. Master Damian awaits eagerly." He said with a barely traceable amount of sarcasm in his gentlemanly demeanor.

Vin chuckled with a polite smile, "Sure thing, Mr. Pennyworth. I think you and I will get along just fine. That is if his Highness allows me into his royal palace again any time soon." He said wryly.

"Indeed, sir."

Vin opened the door and ducked down, slipping into the low vehicle, and placed his bag between his legs on the floor. He nodded to Damian, who was seated next to him and seemingly deep in thought if his lack of scathing commentary meant anything. He perceived the passive thought rolling in his mind: this was the first time he saw the boy in anything except his academy uniform. Jeans, a green hoodie, and converse similar to a pair he had at home. He sighed through his nose longingly at the loose and comfortable-looking clothing. At least he's making his mother happy. Even if he feels like a tool. A stylish one, but a tool nonetheless.

 "I thought people tended to enter through the front door, pal," Vin said as he looked around the garage. They were meant to be messy and dirty, but somehow, it was just as lavish as the rest of the house probably was.

Damian brushed his comment off and went over to a door, opening it and waving him over in gesture. "We are going through the back, so I can lead you to my room without any imbeciles noticing."

Vin shrugged, "'Kay, pal." And following the other around the side of the sizeable house. Damian peeked through the lanai's glass door before grabbing his arm, yanking him inside, and tugging him through multiple back staircases and lesser-used corridors. They seemed to be in the home stretch until they both froze at the sound of an off-tone Walking on Sunshine being sung from around the corner. Before Damian could react, Vin dove into a decorative chest next to them and hunkered down, keeping his breathing silent.