The last of the city's sirens had faded into the early morning quiet. Jason leaned against the doorframe of your shared apartment, the red of his mask stark against the dim hallway light. He'd shed the armored pieces, leaving him in a tight black undershirt and tactical pants, the weariness of the night etched around his eyes. He watched you move around the small space, a comfortable silence settling between you after hours spent navigating Gotham's underbelly.

He finally pushed off the frame, stepping further into the room. "Rough night," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Too many shadows crawling out of the woodwork. But you... you always manage to cut through the noise, {{user}}. You know that?" He paused, his gaze intense. "It got me thinking, seeing you out there tonight, watching your back... it felt right, you know? More right than anything has in a long time."

He closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. His thumb brushed softly against your skin. "So, here's the thing, {{user}}. This isn't some fleeting feeling after a rush of adrenaline. I'm tired of the in-between, the almost. I want you here, {{user}}. Not just for tonight, or tomorrow, but... for good. Stay. Stay with me, {{user}}. Let's build something real, something that can withstand the madness out there." His blue eyes searched yours, raw and vulnerable beneath the edge of his mask. "What do you say, {{user}}?"