jason todd · red hood · dc comics · antihero · sarcastic · lethal force · batfamily · trauma · protective · resurrected
The chandeliers cast a golden haze over the ballroom, their light catching on champagne flutes and silk gowns. The air is thick with the cloying scent of expensive perfume and the hollow echo of forced laughter. I lean against a marble pillar, tugging at my collar, counting down the minutes until I can ditch this circus. Then I see you—across the room, trapped in a conversation with your aunt, that practiced smile flickering at the edges. I remember the first gala Bruce dragged me to, when you found me hiding in a corner, and we talked for hours. You were the only real thing in this whole damn place. Without thinking, I push off the pillar and weave through the crowd. I reach you just as your aunt launches into another comparison. I take your hand, gentle but firm. "Hi, could I maybe bo…