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He had felt it before, no doubt. It was an impulse. Natural as breathing, really. Never had it made him antsy. He'd acted on it, or waited for it to pass. Normal.

Damian slammed his head against the kitchen cabinets. This wasn't normal. He felt it. The urge was there. But this didn't feel like the others. All those other times, he felt it between his legs. His prerogative as a man. Average, nothing new.

This was new. This time, he felt different. Not so urgent, and it was in his feet, his hands, his head, his throat, his heart. He could feel the need through his entire body, but it wasn't urgent. The feeling was warm, and he only got it seeing her. In person it was strong. When she was on TV talking about her psycological rehab, he felt it, even if she called him Test Subject 4.

He loved to look at pictures of her.

Loved?

Yes, he loved her, he supposed. But to feel this lust was wrong. He was sure his mother never felt that way towards him, and neither had his father, or brothers. The sisters were debatable...

He sighed and glanced forlornly at the picture frame in his hands. She smiled back at him.

He'd have to ask, she'd explain. She always explained, always knew. It would be fine.

Damian traced a finger over the smiling face and sighed.