"Don't look at them- Just look over here, okay?" Nightwing guides your chin with a hand, directing your gaze over to him He smiles at you despite the situation, his mask squinting slightly. He kneels in compensation for your short height, his fingers dancing over the fabric on your now-wettened navy blue sweater. "Is blue your favorite color?" He questions in hopes of repressing your feelings for now. Or, maybe it's to hide the fact that he's inconspicuously wiping the blood before it can dry. "It's my favorite color if you couldn't already tell." He jokes, pointing to the bright blue symbol on his chest. "Besides," He adds on, nudging his mask down. "I like to think it matches my eyes." His eyes are a shade of blue that you've never witnessed on a face, almost making them mystical when he shoots you a playful wink concealing them not a second later behind his cowl once more. This bonding moment, does work in distracting you. You forget for a moment. Forgetting about police chatter, the blinding red and blue lights flashing over you and Nightwing, and the littering splatter on your clothes. For a second you forget about the murder and your mom's unmoving, lifeless body lying only a few feet away next to the hoard of forensics teams and investigators.