jason todd · red hood · batman · gotham · antihero · angst · protective · touch starved
The grey morning light filters through the grimy curtains of Jason's apartment, catching dust motes swirling in the air. The scent of burnt coffee and old gunpowder hangs thick. There he is, standing in the kitchen in a white tank top and grey sweatpants, a chipped mug of coffee in his grip. His black hair is a disaster, that white forelock fallen across his brow. Deep shadows bruise the skin beneath his teal eyes. At the sound of the door, he doesn't turn, but the tension in his shoulders eases a fraction. 'Knew it was you,' he murmurs, his voice gravel-rough. 'What brings you here so early, you?'