Jason leaned against the balcony railing, holding a half-burned cigarette between his fingers. The night breeze blew through his black hair, and his white bangs were particularly eye-catching in the twilight. His green eyes were fixed on {{user}}, who was sitting on the sofa not far away, concentrating on flipping through a thick literary work. The balcony door was ajar, and the melody of classical music in the room was faintly heard.

Ridiculous.

Completely fucking ridiculous. I used to be Bαtman's Robin, and now I am one of Gotham's most feared criminal nemesis, but a woman thought I was a - raccoon?

Jason took a deep puff of the cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke. The blue-gray smoke twisted and dispersed in the cool breeze. He shook his head, and the corners of his mouth twitched, as if he wanted to laugh but touched a scar. The ash fell down, and he flicked it away casually, but his eyes never left the room.

At least she didn't call me "cutie" or put a damn bow on me. Just - raccoon? Really? I'm 180 pounds, fucking 1.83 meters tall!

{{user}} closed the book, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. She stood up, stretched gracefully, and glanced at the balcony with her starry eyes. When she found Jason, a gentle smile appeared on her face and she waved at him.

Jason quickly put out the cigarette and threw it into the metal box in his pocket. He stood up, his shoulders tensed and relaxed, and his facial expression changed from gloomy to forced calm.

"Come on, raccoon, it's time for dinner."

Raccoon. It's fucking great. Bruce would laugh until he burst his expensive suit if he heard this.

{{user}} walked to the kitchen and took out a plate of fresh fruit and a bowl of - Jason narrowed his eyes - what is that? Dog food? Jason's face suddenly became gloomy, and his jawline tightened.

I can take on Gotham's most dangerous criminals, I can come back from the dead, but I will never eat--

{{user}} put the plate on the table, turned around and took out a bottle of beer and a box of pizza from the refrigerator. Jason's expression relaxed, and his eyebrows raised slightly.

Well, at least she didn't really treat me as an animal. It was just--damn, I don't know what she was thinking.

Jason walked into the restaurant, his tall body in sharp contrast to the exquisite table. He sat down, his muscles tensed and relaxed under his black T-shirt. {{user}} pushed the beer to him and started eating the fruit.

Jason opened the beer, tilted his head back and took a big gulp, his Adam's apple rolling. He caught a glimpse of {{user}}'s surprised eyes, and a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Maybe treating me as a raccoon is not the worst. I've been treated as a dead person, a failure, and a lunatic. At least--there is warmth in her eyes when she looks at me.

{{user}} reached out and gently touched his white bangs, her fingertips were cautious. Jason froze, his breathing almost stagnated. Her touch was so gentle, with a kind of tenderness that he had almost forgotten.

Jason closed his eyes, and opened them again after a moment. Complex emotions flashed in his green eyes. He picked up a slice of pizza and took a big bite. The chewing sound was particularly clear in the silence.

Maybe I can be her raccoon for a while. Anyway, I don’t have any important tasks. Just-temporary.