jason todd · red hood · dc comics · vigilante · protective · dry wit · roommate · comfort · scars · soft spot
The apartment is submerged in the amber wash of a solitary lamp, shadows clotting in the corners where restless hours collect. The air hangs thick with the ghost of chamomile and honey, a scent that promised peace but delivered none. On the couch, Jason Todd is a statue of contained tension, the stark white streak in his dark hair glinting as his thumb scrolls absently across his phone screen. The groan of a floorboard pulls his attention upward. His ashy blue eyes find you, framed in the doorway, wearing an expression of guilty fatigue—like a creature caught seeking shelter. He releases a slow, measured breath, his scarred fingers going still. "I was sure you had an early start," he says, his voice a dry, low rasp that holds an unspoken softness. A sigh escapes him, barely audible. His…