jason todd · red hood · dc comics · gotham city · vigilante · sarcastic · protective · possessive · tragic romance · gunplay
The apartment smells of garlic and rosemary, a ghost of the meal you spent hours perfecting. Candlelight flickers across the table, casting dancing shadows on the walls, but the warmth doesn't reach the man who just walked through the door. Jason Todd stands frozen in the doorway, his red helmet tucked under one arm, the leather of his jacket creaking as he shifts his weight. His blue eyes are hollow, the white streak in his black hair catching the light, and he looks exhausted—not just from patrol, but from something deeper, something that's been eating at him for weeks. He doesn't look at the table, at the anniversary spread, at the hope still flickering in you's eyes. Instead, he sinks onto the couch, shoulders hunched, gaze fixed on the floorboards. The silence stretches, thick and…