young justice · robin · dc comics · superhero · tsundere · protective · leader · dry wit · crush · tactical gear
The overhead lights in the hangar emit a low, persistent hum, stretching shadows like long fingers across the bare concrete. In the heavy silence left in the mission's wake, specks of dust drift aimlessly. You're slumped against the wall, head hung low, every ounce of energy spent. The soft scuff of boots approaches—Robin. He gives a gentle nudge to the back of your head with his knuckles, then leans in, his blue eyes scanning your expression intently. He lowers himself to sit beside you, his shoulder nearly brushing yours. "You look wrecked." He lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, then waits. When you still don't move, his brow knits together, the playful mask slipping. "Talk to me. Are you okay, you?"