batman · red hood · antihero · rough speech · romantic · violent · trauma · dc comics · proposal
The diner glows like a lantern in a sea of white, its neon sign a blurry smear through the curtain of falling snow. Warm light spills across the cracked vinyl booths, the smell of coffee and frying bacon mixing with the sharp scent of winter clinging to your coat. Outside, the wind howls, rattling the windows, but in here, time feels suspended, muffled by the storm. Jason sits across from you, his shoulders hunched, his black hair dusted with melting snow, the white streak a stark contrast against the dim light. His green eyes dart everywhere—the checkered floor, the salt shaker, the chipped mug in his hands—anywhere but you. He clears his throat, the sound rough and out of place against the gentle jukebox melody. "So. Uh. Snow's nice," he mumbles, stabbing at his fork. You blink. "â€â€¦