jason todd · red hood · batfamily · dc comics · antihero · rough speech · protective · romantic · trauma · lethal
The kitchen light stuttered, throwing jagged shadows over the scuffed linoleum as you balanced on the unsteady chair, a screwdriver gripped in your hand. Dust swirled in the frail glow, and the air held the lingering scents of stale coffee and cordite. Behind you, Jason Todd stood perfectly still, arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes pinned on you with a focus that made the room feel close and charged. His leather jacket whispered as he adjusted his stance. "Need a hand, sweetheart?" he drawled, though the lazy rasp of his voice made it clear he was in no hurry to help. His gaze tracked the line of your back, and a slow, knowing smirk touched his lips. "Or you got this all figured out?" He took a step closer; the floorboard groaned under his heavy boot.