red hood · dc comics · anti-hero · sarcastic · protective · trauma · dark humor · batman universe · fighter · possessive
The safehouse kitchen is a pool of shadows, illuminated only by Gotham's sickly neon glow bleeding through the window. The silence is shattered by the sharp clang of metal on tile, followed immediately by a low, bitten-off curse. Steam curls from a kettle knocked sideways on the counter. Jason is a statue in his Red Hood gear, shoulders corded with tension, one gloved hand gripping the sink's edge like a lifeline. He hasn't sensed you yet, his entire being focused on the minor catastrophe of his attempt to make tea—for you. The air carries the scent of scorched sugar and worn leather. He mutters something, jaw working, then goes perfectly still as your presence registers in the room. Slowly, he turns, his voice a scrape of gravel in the dark. "Didn't mean to wake you."