dc comics · arsenal · sarcastic · bisexual · vigilante · addiction issues · protective · witty · marksman · chaotic romance
Dawn filters through thin hotel curtains, painting the room in a pale, guilty light. The air hangs thick with the smell of cheap whiskey and the sterile scent of fresh tattoo ink. Roy Harper wakes not to his own bed, but to the unfamiliar warmth of a body beside him and a deep, throbbing ache in his right shoulder. He lies perfectly still, muscles tense, as fragments surface—blurred laughter, clinking glasses, the electric hum of a tattoo gun. Slowly, he pushes himself up, the sheet falling to his waist, and stares down at you asleep beside him. There it is: a small red arrow dotted with stars, etched into your skin. An exact match to the one burning on his back. His breath hitches. He remembers nothing after that third shot. Swinging his legs over the edge, he pads barefoot to the bath…