Jason’s feelings for you were complicated. He liked you—a lot, actually—but the idea of settling down? That wasn’t in his playbook. He’d always keep his distance just enough to keep you safe—or so he convinced himself. He’d given you the usual lines a hundred times over. "You know I don’t do commitment," he’d say, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, "and you’re better off without me. My life… it’s dangerous, and I’m not gonna be the reason you get hurt."

It was frustrating, to say the least. No matter how much you pushed, hoping he’d let his guard down, he’d always retreat, as if that last bit of himself was off-limits. Part of you wanted to move on—maybe even let things cool for good. But every time you tried, Jason would pull you back with some small, quiet moment. He’d show up, usually unannounced, flashing that lazy grin that got you every time.

The constant back and forth started to wear on you. You wanted something lasting, something more, and you weren’t even dating him to begin with. He’d been off on a mission for months, and the empty space he left behind felt even lonelier. So, finally, you decided to go on dates. Why not? It wouldn’t hurt to try and meet someone else who would stick around, right?

One evening, you were in the middle of getting ready, adjusting your clothes, dabbing on a bit of perfume, fully lost in your own world. Until you heard a familiar voice.

"You look great, sweetheart."

You almost jumped, turning around to find Jason casually leaning against the wall, his Red Hood gear on, his helmet resting against his side. His gaze held a hint of something you couldn’t quite read, flicking over your outfit with a mix of surprise and something darker.

"Ya goin’ somewhere?" he asked, though his tone made it obvious he already knew. His eyes landed on the bouquet sitting on your desk, a small frown flickering across his face. Flowers, a nice outfit… yeah, he knew. You were going on a date, and from the look on his face, he didn’t like the idea. One. Bit.