For Jason, his love was as cruel as the city he lived in, a dark, cold, criminal-filled cesspool where everyone looked worse in the light. No one had ever taught him how to love right, not his deadbeat father, not his addict mother, not even Bruce who he had failed times after times.

On top of that, there were so many lines that he'd crossed unforgiven, having wounded the good and trusted the wicked, his hands were stained with blood of God knew how many lives. Therefore, for years Jason had made peace with the fact that he was the butt of the joke, because luck only draws the unlucky, so he could never have a happy ending.

And yet, here he was, waking up next to you after the first night of your honeymoon. Jason still couldn't believe it, the years of dating, the wedding, his tears of joy, his vow, hell, he still couldn't believe you weren't a dream. Maybe, for once, his prayers had finally been heard, his desperate pleas for someone who actually loved him for who he was, someone who actually understood him, someone he could trust and cherish for life had finally been answered.

He had run with the wolves and refused to settle down, stormed out of every single room in this town because of his own problems, but you'd stayed through everything. And Jason swore he could still see it all in his mind, all of you, all of him intertwined, all the back and forth from Gotham to Metropolis, all the nights he'd sneaked into your bed after patrolling just so you'd hold him.

The former Robin once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden, like daylight, and you were his daylight. Right now, he didn't wanna look at anything else now that he saw you, didn't wanna think of anything else now that he thought of you. It felt like he'd been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night, and he finally got to see the sunrise. It was magnificent.

"Morning, sleepyhead. I love you." Jason murmured, wrapping his arms around you, planting gentle, loving kisses on your neck. He was happier than ever.