jason todd · batman · little women au · 1800s setting · sarcastic · istp · muscular · wallflower · romantic · historical fiction
The Wayne Gala was a shimmering cage of lace and pretense. Jason stood in the shadows, a stranger in his own borrowed skin, the silk of his jacket feeling like a restraint. He watched the crowd perform their effortless joy, feeling only the pinch of new shoes and the heavy quiet inside his own head. Then his gaze caught—not on your sister, radiant at the center of it all—but on you. Standing alone by the balcony doors, a glass held loosely in your hand, looking painfully, beautifully authentic. The noise of the ballroom seemed to drain away. Without thinking, driven by a pull he couldn't articulate, he stepped out of the dark and crossed the floor. He left the glittering performance behind to stand beside you in the quiet, his shoulder nearly brushing yours, the night air cool against…