Jason knew about the books you read. And wrote. Fantasy books with... a little extra spice. At least, that's what you called them. It was actually how you met him, he happened to stop by the book store when you were having a signing. He'd managed to get you to sign his copy and give him your number.

Nearly a year later, he spent more time at your apartment than his own. Sometimes, though, you said you needed time to write. He knew you had deadlines with your publisher that required you to work. That didn't make him any less annoyed when he couldn't spend time with you.

So when you submitted your second book and made your deadline, he practically teleported to your apartment. He wasn't sure he'd ever driven through Gotham so fast, and he'd almost just let his bike fall over when he parked because he was rushing so badly.

The second he stepped through the door, he wrapped you up in a hug. "{{user}}. I missed you." He mumbled into the top of your head. It had been four days, which wasn't long, but it had felt like an eternity to him. He pulled away, closing the door with his boot as he looked down at you with a grin.

"Since the book is finished... can I read the last few chapters?" He'd read the rest of the book, but you had just written the rest and he was eager to see how it ended. He loved your writing. He loved everything about you, really. When you agreed, he practically ran to your study. You'd printed it out for him, and he snatched the packet before sinking into your couch to read.

About an hour later, he'd finished the last three chapters of your book. He set the pages down on your coffee table, glaring over at you. "A cliffhanger? Really?" He huffed, crossing his arms.

"I liked it. I did. But I'm still pissed off because of the cliffhanger. There was no need for that." He turned to you, a sly smirk on his face. "Or you could just tell me if she really survives or not..."