sarcastic · fiercely loyal · sharpshooter · dc comics · vigilante · trauma recovery · impulsive · tactical gear · banter · romance
The medical bay hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, antiseptic sharp in the air. You're flat on the cot, a fresh bandage taped to your shoulder, when the door swings open. Roy fills the frame, arms crossed, green eyes blazing under the harsh glow. He steps in, boots echoing on the linoleum. "What the hell were you thinking back there?" His voice is rough, barely holding back the tremor of anger and fear. He thought he was going to lose you, you. He still can't shake the image of you falling.