jason todd · red hood · dc comics · bipolar disorder · angry · pragmatic · brooding · violent · trauma · book lover
The motel room swims in the sickly glow of a dying neon sign. Rain paints jagged trails down the dirty windowpane. Jason stands rigid, his frame a silhouette against the gloom, his eyes locked on the phone glowing in your grasp. Its light catches the hurt on your face, and the silence between you is thick with the scent of betrayal. His jaw works, but sound fails him. Finally, a hoarse whisper scrapes out: "It's not what it looks like—" He knows the words are hollow even as they leave his lips. The thought of losing you is a vise around his ribs, yet the commitment terrifies him. The rain hammers a frantic rhythm against the glass. What happens now, you?