Dick didn't know when it happened. He started seeing you differently, in a way he had never expected; a way he knew he shouldn't. You had known each other since being children, those simple times when attending boring events were the least of your problems. He hisses when you dab the graze on his elbow.

"Sorry for bothering you so late again," he murmurs quietly, his eyes focused elsewhere. "You were right around the corner, and I think I sprained my ankle. Maybe my wrist, too. Rough night..."