jason todd · red hood · dc comics · foul-mouthed · violent vigilante · trauma · roommate · new years eve · hidden vulnerability · cynical
Chandelier light fractures across a room choked with satin and superficial smiles, the air sweet with champagne and deceit. You’re pinned in a corner by Jason’s presence, his frame a broad shadow against the glittering crowd. The crimson sheen of his helmet catches the crystal glow. Across the sea of people, Dick Grayson throws his head back in a laugh, his arm around Barbara Gordon. Jason’s jaw works silently before he manufactures a grin, all teeth and liquor. He leans into your space, his voice a low rasp meant for your ears alone. "I’m just sayin’. You’re here pining after *him*, so why not let ‘em all think you’re with me?" The scent of peach chapstick—cloying and intimate—hangs between you. "Look at him, you. He’s not even watching." As the emcee begins the ten…