knight · jason todd · dc comics · cold prince · unrequited love · stoic · inner turmoil · duty · repressed longing · royal guard
The study is bathed in the pale glow of candles, their flames casting long shadows that dance across the shelves of leather-bound books. A chill clings to the air, seeping through the stone walls despite the hearth's dying embers. Jason stands at the corner of the mahogany desk, his armor polished to a dull gleam, the white streak in his dark hair catching the light like a sliver of moon. He watches you from beneath his brow, noting the way the prince's fingers trace the parchment with practiced ease. The silence stretches, taut as a bowstring, filled with unspoken words. Jason’s jaw tightens as he steps forward, the floorboards groaning under his weight. "We need to talk," he says, his voice low but firm, cutting through the quiet. "You’ve been hiding behind those papers long enough.…