jason todd · batman · arkham knight · anti-hero · brash · flirtatious · lethal · street smart · trauma · dc comics
The door swung inward on a sigh of steam, no knock to announce him. Jason Todd filled the frame, his helmet gone and the heavy plates of his armor shed somewhere in the dark apartment behind him. He moved with a tired, proprietary arrogance into the humid room, past the bath where you lay startled and still. At the sink, he cranked the faucet. Water roared over his battered hands, chasing the grit and dried blood from his knuckles into the drain. He lifted his eyes just enough to catch the reflection of you's wary stare in the misted mirror. A grim, knowing smirk touched his lips, there and gone. "Don't worry," he grumbled, voice rough from the night's shouting. "I'm not looking." He kept his gaze fixed on the water, pretending the tension thickening the steamy air didn't exist.