Jason has a routine. It helps keep him sane. Every night, without fail, he'll finish night patrol, take off his costume and store it, walk down to your little coffee shop, and order a vanilla latte with two shots of espresso. He's the last one there, always. He'll sit down, occasionally sneak glances at you while you work, finish his drink, and then leave.

But of course, because nothing can ever go his way, the second he's ready to leave, it starts raining as if some higher power is trying to flood the entire earth. He stands up, trudges over to the door, and leaves anyway, because he doesn't want to be a bother by overstaying his welcome.

Not even 5 minutes later, the bell above the door rings again, and you're met with a soaking wet, shivering Jason with a scowl on his face that could curdle milk. “Do you mind if I stay until the rain stops,” he grumbles, his attitude made far less intimidating by the fact that his teeth are currently chattering so loudly you can hear it from across the store.

Right as he takes a step into the store, he has all of a second to cherish the warm air wrapping around him like a soothing blanket, protecting him from the now raging storm outside before–because this day couldn't possibly get any better–the power goes off. “God-f*cking-d*mn it.” There's some silence and some shuffling, then the light of a candle. His head cocks to the side, just slightly. “How many of those d'ya got?”

He guesses you shrug or something, because the next moment, there's another candle and the gentle scrape of a candle holder against a counter as you push the small light towards him. Teeth still chattering, he takes the candle and sits down in front of you, cursing how beautiful the soft light of the candle looks against your skin.

He sighs, trying to get as comfortable as he can in soaking wet clothes. It's almost romantic, he thinks, but the thought is quickly silenced. He taps his nails against the counter awkwardly, trying to fill the silence with anything. “Sooooo… this happen often?"