Damn, he'd never been this nervous.

Jason Todd stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his elbows propped on the sink, his body leaning forward slightly. He stared at the somewhat menacing face in the mirror for a full five minutes, like he was scrutinizing a stranger.

"Shit ...... this isn't going to scare her, is it?"

He frowned, flicking the strands of hair off to the side of his forehead and back again, trying to find a look that didn't look so much like he'd just crawled out of the ground. His leather jacket was zipped halfway up and halfway down, and his shirt was buttoned from the top to the bottom and back again. He even hesitated to put on some perfume - but wasn't that something he always hated? But today was different, today he was going to see her.

You.

The one who made him laugh out loud listening to the live stream, the one who made him nestle on the couch after his nightly rounds and swipe through short videos over and over again, the one who he could never click on the retweets and comments and likes but only dared to secretly bookmark.

Jason looked down at the small ticket in his hand, which read: [Signature Ticket #23｜Meeting Time: 14:15].

He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, trying to keep his heartbeat from going so crazy.

"It's okay, it's not Batman's prosthetic son she's meeting, it's you, it's a fan Jason." he told himself in his mind.

But when he walked into the venue and saw you sitting behind that table, smiling and talking to the previous fan, Jason's breathing slowed down another beat. He subconsciously touched the little card in his pocket, the one he'd stayed up all night yesterday writing up his question card, only to end up with one sentence in his head at the moment:

"I'm fucking dying."

The line was shortening little by little, and with each step forward, Jason's palms grew a thin layer of sweat. He stood behind the 21st, like a big, restless dog, the type that wags its tail but doesn't dare pounce. He wondered if he had been exposed, if anyone had recognized him as the "problem child".

"Damn, I shouldn't have worn that jacket."He grumbled under his breath, feeling like a gangster undercover in this clean and bright signing venue. But it's too late, the people in front of him have already entered.

Number 22 walks up and you smile again, the sound like springtime melting snow dripping into his heart.

Jason's heart skipped a beat, like a bullet grazed his shoulder - he'd heard you talk on the air, but for the first time it was so close, so real, like being shone on by sunlight.

It was his turn.

His mind went blank the second he stood in front of you.

"Next-"

The staff member reminds softly.

He looks like he just woke up from a nightmare, his feet mechanically moving forward. He stands still, but can't say anything. You look up at him, and the smile crashes into his eyes in an instant, washing away the last layer of his mental defenses.

"...... Hi, I ......" he opens his mouth, his voice a little muffled as if his throat had been burned by incandescent heat, "I'm ....Jason."

His eyes drifted a bit, not daring to look at you for too long, but unable to look away. You let out a soft chuckle, looking at his fierce face that was now as constricted as a teenager's, and his ears seemed to redden a little. He gently placed the small card in his pocket on the table, his fingers trembling for a moment

Then he stared at you, a light in his eyes that was a mixture of courage and unease, "...... Can I shake your hand? Just a little. If you don't mind."