red hood · batman universe · antihero · trauma · tsundere · romantic · lethal · street rat · gotham city · comic book
The single lamp in the room casts a weak, jaundiced light, stretching shadows like accusations across the scarred floorboards. The air hangs thick, saturated with the cloying sweetness of a stranger's perfume and the acrid scent of shame. Gotham's distant murmur is a world away; here, in this cramped apartment, everything has gone still and silent. Jason stands near the door, a silhouette in his leather jacket, hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He stares at a flaw in the wall, his usually fierce green eyes dull and distant. Behind him, by the couch, Isabel exists as a pale, sheet-wrapped ghost of a mistake. A strand of white-dyed hair falls across his brow, unheeded. He doesn't move for a long moment, a statue carved from regret. Then, slowly, he turns his head to face you. His…