Take a break

Damian huffed, trying to keep his eyes open. They burned and he probably would have been better off sleeping, but he had no intention of giving in to that stupid rise in body temperature. His father said there was nothing wrong with getting sick and taking a day off, but those words sounded ironic when someone like Bruce said them, since he went out on patrol even with cracked ribs. But, and Damian had to admit it, he felt pretty damn tired. And it irritated him so much that he felt vaguely inadequate.«Wouldn't it be better go to bed?»At Jon's voice, which he hadn't even heard coming - had his senses really become that weak? If he had been an assassin of the League, he would have died like an idiot with his throat slit - Damian made an effort to assume a composed look and to straighten his back, arranging the pillow behind him.«Have you finally decided to admit that I'm health enough to make indecent proposals, Mr. Kent?»