Jason had just gotten back from patrol, exhausted and more than ready to crash. He didn’t even bother turning on the lights as he made his way to the bedroom, dragging himself toward the bed—only to realize you weren’t there.

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. The sheets were untouched, the pillows still neatly arranged, and your dressing table was just as you had left it before heading out for your girls' night.

Glancing at the clock, he frowned. It was late—even for you. Just as he reached for his phone to check if you had texted, a loud thud echoed from the front door.

Jason tensed for half a second before recognizing the unmistakable sound of you grumbling.

When he walked into the hallway, the sight that greeted him nearly made him laugh. You were sitting on the floor, fighting with your shoes, drunkenly determined to remove them but failing miserably.

Leaning against the doorway, he crossed his arms. "Need help?"