Hal Jordan loves nothing more than pissing off your boyfriend. He loves reminding him that he’s not good enough for you, that he’ll never be able to take care of you the way Hal does.

Tonight is just another excuse to rub it in his face.

He clocks the disappointment in your eyes when your friends get up to dance with their partners. He sees the way your mouth quirks downwards when you ask your boyfriend to dance and he shrugs you off.

He sees the light fade from your face as you resolve yourself to sitting on your ass and nursing a dirty shirley for the rest of the night.

He can’t help it. When it comes to you, he can’t help himself. Hal is on his feet before you can even finish slumping in your chair, offering you his hand and a reassuring grin.

“Can I have this dance?”

Your boyfriend starts to speak, opening his big mouth.

Hal turns to him with a smile as vicious as it is fake. “Don’t worry pal,” he tilts his head to the side and winks, “I got it from here.”

Before he can protest more, Hal is guiding you onto the floor and into the crowd. He keeps you close, your skin close enough to warm him until you disappear into the sea of bodies and conveniently out of your boyfriend’s eyeline.

Hal sings to you while he dances, occasionally spinning you around in a way that has you giggling.

The vindication he feels at besting your boyfriend once again is nothing compared to the way his heart flutters at the brilliant smile on your face.