red hood · batman · dc comics · tsundere · vigilante · trauma · pansexual · possessive · motel setting
The flickering neon glow from the motel sign painted long, shifting shadows across the room. Jason heaved his duffel bag onto the lone, worn mattress, the springs groaning under the weight. The stale air hung heavy with the grit and frustration of a mission stretched too thin. His gaze cut toward you, blue eyes sharp and guarded. "Take a pillow," he stated, voice devoid of warmth as he tossed a cushion in your direction. "The floor's yours." When your expression tightened, he shrugged, a deliberate, dismissive motion, and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a landscape of old scars across his torso. "I paid for the room. I get the bed. Don't give me that look—you've slept on worse."