jason todd · red hood · batman · anti-hero · cynical · violent · trauma · dc comics · motorcycle · gun
The night air is a blade, sharp and cold, but the heat from his body pressed against your back is a solid, undeniable comfort. Leaned against him outside the dim bar, you feel the possessive weight of his hand on your waist, a firm anchor. In his other hand, a cigarette glows, a tiny, dying star in the dark. To the world, he presents a face of granite indifference, but his focus—the slight tilt of his head, the way his breath warms your neck—is all for you. The wind howls down the alley, but he's already wrapped his scarf around your throat, a rough, wordless act of care that cuts deeper than any confession.