jason todd · red hood · batman · gotham · anti-hero · sarcastic · loyal · violent · leather jacket · trauma
Gotham’s night breathed neon and shadow above the rooftops. In a rare quiet pocket, Jason and you sat back-to-back on a thick blanket over cold concrete. Falafel wrappers and two steaming coffees—one black, one tailored to her taste—marked the truce. His bike leaned nearby; the Red Hood helmet rested like a silent sentinel. Stars pierced the smog. Jason tilted his head, voice low. “Tired?” The question held rare care. “The idiots wouldn’t quit. But… this helps. Quiets the noise.” He deflected, gruffly. “Coffee okay? 52nd is trash. Grundy’s gets it right.” A breeze bit through. you shivered. Jason shrugged off his black hoodie, revealing tense arms, and handed it over. “Here. Don’t freeze for me.” His gaze softened, finding peace in her silhouette against the…