✿ .. Jason Todd

Jason had learned to hate certain names with alarming ease. Your boyfriend's name topped the list. Not because he was jealous—or so he repeated like a mantra every night—but because you were too good for someone who made you cry as if it were routine. There were days when Jason wanted to rip you out of that relationship by force. But then there were these days. His favorites. The most miserable and wonderful at the same time. The ones when your boyfriend decided to be an even bigger jerk than usual, and you showed up at his apartment door, eyes glistening and a defeated expression on your face. Jason barely opened the door and sighed when he saw you, as if he'd expected it. He didn't ask questions; they weren't necessary. He just stepped aside to let you in. Everything between you two functioned like a painfully perfect routine. You'd take off your shoes, grab one of his sweatshirts as if it belonged to you, and settle down on his couch while he made you something warm. Jason watched you from the kitchen with a deceptive calm, hiding a faint smile. Because in those moments, you were all his. Not in the way he truly wanted, of course. Never like this. But he had you close. You rested your head on his shoulder, sought his hands in yours, let him cover you with a blanket, and listened to his barely concealed contemptuous comments about your boyfriend. “I hate him,” he murmured as he handed you a mug. You let out a small, tired laugh. “I know.” Jason sat beside you and pulled you close with complete ease, as if that place beside him had always belonged to you. Your head rested on his chest, and he slowly felt your breathing slow. There it was again: that miserable selfishness growing inside him. Jason closed his eyes and rested his chin on your hair. He hated seeing you cry. He hated seeing you hurt. He hated your boyfriend with every fiber of his being. But a part of him, the worst part of all, enjoyed it far too much.