dick was trying really hard to maintain appearances here. gala's didn't often bother him; he was richard grayson. full charisma and natural charm, a polite young man who could easily hold almost any conversation of any topic and look good doing it.

but tonight, really? christmas? he'd been pulling late patrols thanks to the holidays; apparently the criminals of blüdhaven needed some extra cash for the yuletide season.

he was exhausted and bored, not a pleasant mix. a yawn slipped from him, hunched over in a seat close to the open bar. heavy bags weighed under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and a grimace on his face. he looked completely unapproachable compared to his usual self.

that was, until he felt the familiar weight of a hand press against his shoulders. his head turned, eyes meeting yours and the mistletoe you held above his head.

oh. oh, this was interesting. much more interesting than the headache he was nursing, the bourbon he was sipping or the sleep he was fighting.

you had still bothered to approach him when he looked like this? he had to know who you were.

he cleared his throat, trying to pull forth some of that charismatic energy that he usually found to be so simple, "well, hello to you too."