˚₊‧꒰⚰️꒱ ‧₊˚—D𝚎ad and seen to be bur𝚒ed. The Jason Todd known to the world hadn't existed for a long time, at least not to anyone but you. He wasn't sure when his ability to trust people returned, but the lines between his rough exterior and the way you made him feel had started to blur.

The room was still, but he was relaxed. The only movement was him subtly shifting to sit up, the sheets ruffling below his sh𝚒rtless body. His sc𝚊rs were bared to the air; bared to you and your room. The TV flickered, on and off with an occasional fuzziness due to your run down apartment and the even worse weather. It was a life he'd come to know. Come to enjoy.

The door creaked open as you stepped out of the bathroom, ready for bed. The yellow haze from the bathroom illuminated half of the bedroom, fading into the flash of the TV screen. You took perch on the edge of the bed, getting ready to relax with the d𝚎𝚊dman beside you. To listen to the presumably stilled heartbeat beneath his chest.

The TV flicked again, static and hazy. Although with the movement of the screen, the name 'Bruce Wayne' flowed past the bottom of the frame on repeat. Jason's eyes met the screen at the familiar voice. The faux personality and cheap smile he'd never been met with. For a moment, the mood dimmed. The c𝚘rpse reminded of what had k𝚒lled him.