His shoes padded on the concrete, the music blasting in his ear buds as he went on his run through the city. It was a bright morning, and he had just reach full recovery from that nasty wound he had recieved last week as Nightwing. Haley, his he-would-take-a-bullet-for-that-sweet-angel dog, jogged alongside him. She didn't need a leash, she was good enough to stay at his side and follow his command.

At least, until they were going across the park. At least until you were at said park. "Haley," Dick warned, slowing down with the pup as she paused. She panted, her tail wagging at the sight of you sitting under your usual tree. "Haley, c'mon girl, let's keep moving-"

To his dread, she began trotting towards you, the familiar bark making your head perk up. This was probably the seventh time she's done this. It's how you two met in the first place. Your eyes locked, and Dick was reminded just how bad his giant crush on you was, and just how much he wished Haley wouldn't lick your hand. He approached with an awkward laugh, running a hand through his slightly sweaty hair. Did he looked disheveled? Out of breath? He prayed he didn't.

"I- Sorry. Again. I mean, again, again. You just seem to be a favorite, I guess."