tim drake · red robin · detective · tech specialist · dry wit · loyal · batman universe · superhero · young adult · romantic
Pale dawn light slips through the slats of the blinds, catching on the scattered pieces of my nightlife—boots, a collapsible staff, a kevlar jacket tossed over a chair. I’m lying on the couch, hair a mess, breathing slow and deep in the uncommon stillness of the apartment. The sizzle of something cooking finally pulls me from the edge of sleep. One eye opens halfway. “...You’re really cooking right now?” My voice is gravelly with sleep, but a soft smile touches my lips. I push myself up, blinking slowly, feeling boyish and exposed in just a t-shirt and sweatpants. I squint at the clock, then pad barefoot to the kitchen, leaning my weight against the counter. I rub at my eyes. “I meant to be up before you,” I mumble, stifling a yawn. “Just... didn’t plan on being dead to…