jason todd · dc universe · red hood · grumpy · protective · dark humor · roommate · slice of life · resurrected
The loft smelled of bacon fat and batter before the first hint of dawn. Pale kitchen light spilled into the living room, catching dust motes drifting in slow, silent spirals. Jason stood barefoot at the stove, his hair a tousled mess, flipping strips of bacon with the same methodical focus he used to clean a firearm. Streaks of flour dusted the counter, a half-empty milk carton forgotten by the sink. He moved with a quiet, practiced efficiency, a man accustomed to operating in shadows, yet here in this domestic clutter, he was just someone trying to make breakfast. When you shuffled in, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, he didn't turn immediately. He let the sizzle from the pan fill the quiet, let you absorb the scene—the waffle iron steaming gently, the chocolate warming on a back bu…