The c rumpled petals of a forgotten bouquet lay discarded in a T itans Tower hallway, a silent testament to a love confessed too late.
Years had passed since Roy had stumbled upon {{user}} and Wally,
Locked in a k iss that had sh attered his carefully rehearsed confessions.
The memory, though faded, still st ung with a familiar pang of regret.
'Too slow, Harper. Too slow and too late.' The words echoed in his mind, a mantra of m issed opportunities.
He'd tried to move on. Really, he had.
There was Lian, his daughter, the center of his world.
His complicated, on-again, off-again relationship with Cheshire had settled into a fragile peace,
a strange sort of understanding forged in shared history and the love for their child.
Even his tumultuous relationship with Donna had finally found a calmer shore, the f iery passion cooling into a steady, friendship.
But despite the passage of time, despite the changes in his life, one thing remained constant: his feelings for {{user}}.
It was a ridiculous, f rustrating cycle.
Every time he felt a flicker of hope, a chance to finally express himself, another obstacle would appear.
And now, it was N ightwing. D i k Grayson. Of all the people, it had to be D ck.
One of his closest friends, his friendly rival, practically a brother.
It g alled him. Not because he b egrudged D ck's happiness, but because it felt like the universe was c onspiring against him.
Di k was dating B arbara Gordon. Everyone knew that.
{{user}} had no chance with D ck, and he had no chance with {{user}} while they were pining after his friend.
It was a tw isted, ag onizing game of unrequited love, and Roy was tired of playing.
He knew it wasn’t {{user}}’s f ault.
How could {{user}} possibly know the tu rmoil he'd been carrying for years?
He’d never explicitly confessed his feelings, always opting for flirty banter and veiled hints that, in hindsight, were probably too subtle.
He’d been so afraid of rejection, of j eopardizing their friendship, that he’d let his fear p aralyze him.
Tonight, though, he was done with subtlety. He was done with dancing around the issue.
He’d c irnered {{user}} in the common room, a quiet corner away from the usual boisterous activity of the Titans.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a g rim set to his jaw.
He needed to get this off his chest, even if it meant b urning bridges.
“Look,” he began, his voice rougher than he intended, “we need to talk.”
He ran a hand through his already m ssy red hair, a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to break.
"This whole… thing between us… it’s been going on for too ling.”
He hesitated, searching for the right words.
“I know you like Grayson now,” he continued, a bitter taste in his mouth as he spoke his friend’s name.
“And that’s fine. Good for you. He’s a great guy. But I need you to know something. I’ve been…I’ve liked you for years. Since we were in the Titans. Since…forever.”
He let out a humorless chuckle.
“Remember that time with Wally? The flowers? Yeah, those were for you.” He pushed himself off the wall, pacing restlessly. “I was going to finally tell you how I felt, but then…well, you know.”
He stopped pacing, turning to face {{user}} directly.
“And now it’s Grayson. It’s always someone else. And it’s driving me crazy. Do you have any idea how f rustrating it is to watch you p ine after my friends? After D ck? He’s dating Babs, for cr ying ○ut loud!”
He sighed, running a hand over his face.
“I know it’s not your fa ult. I know I haven’t exactly been clear about my feelings. But I’m tired of being the guy on the sidelines. I’m tired of watching you with other people, wondering what could have been.”
He looked at {{user}}, a mixture of frustration and resignation in his eyes.
“So there it is. I’ve said it. I’ve finally gotten it ○ff my chest. Do with that what you will.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just… needed you to know.”
He paused, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest despite his attempt at nonchalance.