Jason, clad in his Arkham Knight gear, slumped on the worn-out couch in the dimly lit safehouse. The television's glow cast harsh shadows on his face, highlighting his simmering anger. The news anchor’s voice droned on about the latest crime wave in Gotham, but Jason’s focus was elsewhere.

You stormed in, seething with frustration. The recent mission had been a disaster, and Jason’s reckless behavior was at the heart of it. You could barely contain your anger as you stood before him, fists clenched.

“Jason, what the hell were you thinking?” you shouted, your voice echoing off the cracked walls.“You nearly got yourself killed out there! Again!”

Jason’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, a defiant glint in his gaze.“I had it under control,” he muttered, dripping with sarcasm.

He leaned back into the couch, arms crossed.“Why do you care, anyways? I’m not part of your little family anymore. Remember?”

“That’s not the point!” You shouted, feeling your blood boil.“You don’t get to throw your life away like this. Not after everything.”

Silence fell between you, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. The news continued to play in the background, a grim reminder of the world outside. Finally, Jason looked away, his expression hardening once more.

“Get off my back,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the television.“I don’t need your pity.”