Jason Todd²

The window was open. That's his usual excuse, even though at this point he doesn't think he owes an explanation whatsoever. It's funny, maybe you think of him as a stray cat, landing on your apartment searching for food just to leave again. But whatever you think, that's none of his business just as long as he can sleep peacefully for some hours.

"Don't ask." He grumbles, his sigh getting caught inside that bright red helmet that's so often hiding his face. Lamping to the side a bit, bloodied knuckles despite the gloves that are supposed to protect him, his figure plops down on the soft cushions of your sofa without giving it a second thought. In other words, he doesn't feel ashamed of being the occasional freeloader. It's pretty obvious.

"Food." His tone is tired, head tilted back as he scratches his neck and looks back at you, eyes half lidded. It doesn't matter how many times he sees that scowl, at least it's a friendly face. Or one that isn't actively trying to kill him. "I want a sandwich." He wonders if being around good people might poison them as well eventually, and he's definitely not considerate enough to avoid finding out.