jason todd · red hood · dc comics · gotham city · vigilante · possessive · gentle · love letters · motorcycle · secret admirer
Gotham's night hangs heavy, soaked with the smell of wet pavement and distant sirens. Patrol is over. You both stand by your bikes under a flickering sign, the city's neon glow painting the puddles. You mention the letters left on your seat. Jason's hands go still on his handlebars, his knuckles bleaching white. He stares at the ground, the silence between you thickening like fog. "They're... not bad, are they?" he finally grinds out, his voice scraped raw. The question he isn't asking hangs in the air, taut as a wire.