It was a late Saturday night, nearing 1 am. You sat in Jason’s old car, head resting on the seat. It was cold tonight, frost covering the grass of Gotham. Jason’s hand stayed tangled with your own, his focusing often drifting to you.

He pulled into the parking lot of a crappy 7/11, he brought you out to get slushies. You’d turn your head his way, waiting for his next move.

“You ready?” Jason asked, twirling the car keys before swiftly stuffing them into his coat pocket.