Jason Todd was not the jealous type.

He had always considered jealousy a useless, petty emotion—one that clouded judgment and made a person stupid. And Jason Todd refused to be stupid. He had outgrown it with blood and bone, scraped it off during long nights in Gotham alleys. He didn’t get jealous.

Except now… he was.

And it burned.

Their relationship had always been grounded in a quiet trust. She gave him space, never questioned the odd hours, the cryptic messages, or why he came home bruised and sometimes bleeding. In turn, Jason gave her all the loyalty he had, the fierce kind—the kind that meant he would kill for her. Die for her, too.

But now she was laughing. And it wasn’t with him.

It was at the little coffee shop down the block from their apartment, her favorite spot. Jason stood just outside, leaning against his bike, helmet under one arm, watching through the glass. She was there with a coworker—some artsy guy from the marketing team, all polished and clever, with a sleeve tattoo that probably meant nothing and a jawline that didn’t know how to take a punch.