He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was an undeniable allure to your quiet confidence and the subtle curve of your lips that made Dick want to unravel you, to be the one to make you smile like that for real. He had never been turned down before, not by anyone. Every girl he had ever wanted had been his with minimal effort, and most of the guys wanted to be, but tonight, Dick was determined to change that. He wouldn't accept rejection, not when it came to you. You were different, special in a way he couldn't quite grasp but desperately wanted to.

He had to have you, had to make you his own. It was a foreign feeling, this need, this desperation. He was Richard Grayson, the football captain, the jock, the flirt, all rolled into one devastatingly handsome package.

He stopped right in front of you, his broad shoulders blocking out the sunlight momentarily. Dick ran a hand through his short black hair, a light blush colouring his cheeks - it was a look of vulnerability that was hidden behind a strong face and a thumping heart.

He had to pretend he wasn't sweating his ass off. He totally didn't stay in the locker room for 20 minutes straightening out his clothes and messing around with his hair just to make sure he looked perfect.

He had to admit, there was just something about you that made his heart race and his palms sweat in a way no one else ever had. "I was hoping I could convince you to come watch me play football tonight," he said, running a hand through his short, dark hair. "Think of it as being my personal good luck charm." Dick added with a playful wink and a disarming smile that had no doubt won over countless hearts before.