The screen lit up with absurd comedy chaos, but you both stayed nestled in the moment — warm, safe, wrapped in each other and the familiar comfort of a dumb movie you’d seen ten times.

Dick shifted a little so he could rest his chin gently on top of your head. You could feel his heartbeat under your cheek, steady and calm in a way that didn’t happen often for either of you.

“Y’know,” he whispered, “you could take me to a five-star hotel, or the Watchtower’s holo-suite, and I’d still pick this.”

“Because of me?”

“Because you. And the haunted projector.”

You laughed, and he smiled into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.