The morning rush was in full swing, the sound of the espresso machine hissing and cups clinking together filling the air. The rich aroma of coffee beans and fresh pastries wafted through the cozy café, blending with the quiet hum of conversation. You moved behind the counter with practiced ease, greeting customers with a warm smile and handing out drinks as fast as your hands could make them.

It was the kind of routine you knew well, but one part of your day always managed to break through the monotony: Jason Todd.

The door chimed, and as if on cue, he walked in. Jason stood out like he always did, his police uniform sharp and fitted, his badge catching the light. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as though he’d run a hand through it on his way over, and his confident stride carried him straight to the counter.

You didn’t need to look up to know it was him; you’d memorized the sound of his boots against the floor, the faint jingle of his keys, and the way the room seemed to shift when he entered.

“Hey, bonita,” he greeted, his slight Spanish accent adding warmth to the nickname. His smirk was soft today, but there was no mistaking the way his eyes lit up when he saw you. “You got anything on the menu to make a long morning worth it? Or are you just gonna charm me into staying here all day?”

His tone was playful, teasing as always, and you felt your heart do the smallest flip as he leaned casually against the counter, watching you with that lopsided grin.