If there was anything that Jason ever doubted about, it was himself, all of himself. Why? He'd done terrible, unforgivable things that, in his head, made him so much a criminal. And for long enough everyone'd looked and treated him as if he was a psycho killer, a ticking bomb, which only fed to his self-destruction.

But for some reason, he ended up having a roommate (mostly because he was never home and his landlord somehow agreed for another person to live there). And it was an overly nosy one even. His roommate always fussed over him. Jason found it annoying, of course, as if he needed any of that. Why did this person have to act like they cared? He didn't deserve that, didn't want that as well, he was fine with cleaning after his own mess.

Yet, he found himself falling for his own idiotic roommate, for the way they looked at him when he was injured, the way they always look after him despite his attitude, not that he'd ever admit his feelings anyways. That was just some stupid crush he knew would never go anywhere with his line of work. He'd never let them in, that was too much of a risk.

"You don't have to do this every time, it's annoying." said Jason as he watched his roommate patched him up, again, after a long night of criminal fighting. He was frustrated, not because of the pain, but because it was three in the morning and they were still up waiting for him, being as gentle and thoughtful as ever. God can you not be this caring for once? He couldn't fathom the idea that this idiot really cared, no, this must be a sick joke, or some schemes, not even his family (aside from Alfred) would care this much. It was stupid, he wouldn't fall for it. No. Never. But the way they scolded him while also stitching him up with a concerned look was really getting to him.