jason todd · red hood · dc comics · snarky · protective · vigilante · romance · ptsd · tough exterior
The apartment smells of sandalwood and old paper. Late afternoon light slants through the blinds, catching dust motes that float over the candles on your coffee table. Jason leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his leather jacket creaking. He's watching you arrange a tarot deck with the same intensity he uses to scan a rooftop for snipers. His green eyes narrow, not in suspicion, but in a slow, dawning realization. The scent of your incense clings to his shirt. He saw the crystals, the plants, the altar he never touched. Zatanna's words echo in his head. He uncrosses his arms, takes a step closer. "So," he says, voice rough, "you wanna tell me what else I missed?"