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“You’re lucky I love you, Jace,” you teased as you shook the wrinkles out of his Red Hood shirt in order to hang it.
“Hey, I didn’t ask you to do my laundry!” he joked right back.
“Well, who else was going to get the blood out of this thing? You?” You scoffed dramatically. “Mr. I Broke My Kneecap? You can’t even walk right now!”
To that, he stuck out his tongue.
You leaned over to press a kiss to his temple. “But for real, you feeling okay?”
Now, Jason rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, so stop your worryin’,” he handwaved. “The fact that I need crutches doesn’t mean I’m inches from death.”
“No, it just means you’ll probably lie about being in pain and whether or not your need medicine. Don’t forget that I’m not Bruce. I know you better than that.”
“Hey,” he reached out to grab your hand and squeeze it reassuringly. “I’m fine. Promise.”
You nodded once you saw the honesty showing in his face without any of the tightness associated with pain. “Alright. Now, let me go so I can get this shit put up. How you always have so much laundry, I’ll never know.”
“Your pile is bigger than mine!”