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Jason Todd was, to put it simply, an elaborate mystery that you've been itching to solve all school year. You've been sitting right beside him, partnered together for a few assignments, and even gotten so far as to consider him a friend. But as of late, every time you try to talk to him, he darts away or cuts the conversations short with half-assed excuses.
Since then, you've been trying to give him space, no matter how difficult it is. Occasionally you can feel eyes on you in class, your brain jumps at the thought that it could be his eyes. But, when you look in his direction, he's focused on his work, shoulders tense and the tips of his ears flushed pink.
The kid that lives next door overheard you talking with your roommate about this debacle the other day and she popped her head in, spouting about how that's how boys in her school act when they like someone. But you're college students, for goodness sakes. You aren't in middle school, so surely that isn't the case.
A lot of people had been afraid of him, with his massive, brick shithouse build, scars littering his face and massive arms, and brooding demeanor. But, you took one look at him and saw a big ol' teddy bear hiding beneath that grizzly bear shell. You think back to the casual conversations you’d had with him.
One day, about two months into your hesitant friendship, he’d come into class, bruised up and looking absolutely exhausted. His dark hair looked as though he’d been tugging at it from stress, the shock of white falling into a loose curl over his dark, furrowed brows. As soon as the professor had released you, you’d taken him by the hand, dragging him to the on-campus cafe.
You hadn’t even noticed you’d been holding his hand until you were at the door. His big hand had dwarfed yours, fingers haphazardly intertwined. Upon realization, you’d felt your face heating, yet the rest of your body felt cold the second you slipped your hand away.
When you’d looked up at him and your eyes met, you found that you could no longer hold his gaze like you once had. For this time, you feared drowning in his turquoise eyes, a willing victim to their depth.
That had been two months ago, just before the winter break. Your feelings were far from fading, and you’d spent the whole break thinking about him, even beyond the few texts you had exchanged. When the winter break ended, the strange behavior on his end began.
Maybe… Maybe he figured out that you were starting to fall for him. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk because he doesn’t feel the same way and he doesn’t know how to let you down gently. The thought alone made your heart clench. The last thing you want is to lose a friend because you caught feelings.
Now, you find yourself feeling like a stranger to a boy who still floods your thoughts. You stare out the window, watching the snow fall, but your concentration on the fluffy white flakes is broken as you hear Jason sigh. You glance over at him and watch as he crumples the page he’s been writing on and starts writing again.
Despite the distance you’ve been struggling to give him, you can feel the curiosity poking at you. But the way that he’s got his huge arm curled around the notebook makes it impossible to make out what he’s writing or drawing.
When the professor dismisses the class, Jason bolts from his seat, but the crumpled piece of paper falls from his bag. You grab it to return it to him, but he was already long gone. Considering that this is the last class of the day, he’s likely headed home.
As you stare at the paper, that curiosity pokes at your brain again. You carefully open the ball and you see Jason’s elegant script adorning the paper and your heart drops into your stomach as you read.
"For you are the other half of me.
The bright light to the darkness of my world.
When I feel lost in an empty sea,
Your smile is a beacon leading me to shore
All-encompassing taste of glee,
Everything I want and truly need.
Pulling the fraying threads of my sanity
To tie them back together, my mind is at ease.”
Whoever this is for is very lucky, you think bitterly. As his friend, you should be happy for him, knowing that he found someone who inspires him to write such beautiful poetry. But as someone who has fallen for him as hard as you have, it kills you.
You continue to stare at the paper before resolving to return it to him and own up to violating his privacy. Each step you take feels as though your shoes are made of lead as you make your way across town to his apartment.
By the time you finally make it to his apartment, it’s nearly dark. Your face is stinging from the cold, your eyes burning from unshed tears, and your stomach churning from nerves. You try to take a moment to collect yourself before knocking, trying to stop your hands from shaking and to get a hold on your emotions. You’re so caught up in trying to collect yourself, you don’t even hear the footsteps approaching.
His deep voice breaks your concentration as he calls your name. “The hell are ya doin’ here, dummy?”
You glance up at him, but the second you see his face, the urge to cry slams into you like a wrecking ball. “J-Jay? I came to… I came by to give this to you. I… You dropped it when you were leaving class this afternoon,” you explain, jerking your arms out, the crumpled ball of paper in your open hands.
You hear the rustling of plastic grocery bags being set on the floor, and feel his warm hand brush against yours as he takes the paper from your hands, uncrumpling it. As you wait for his response, the dam holding back your tears finally breaks, a steady stream pouring down over your cheeks. You’re sure he can’t see the tears, seeing as you can’t bring your face up from where you stare at his feet.
“Shit. Jus’ don’t tell me ya read it,” he finally speaks, his voice soft.
“I’m so-sorry,” you reply, your voice cracking. “I was just curious. I didn’t… I didn’t think it was anything so private, Jay.”
“Hey, I’m not mad at ya, dummy,” he assures you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “Jus’ feeling stupid. I shoulda paid better attention if I didn’t wanna have it read. I was ‘bout ta make dinner. Wanna join me?”
“I-I don’t know if that is a good idea,” you reply, your stomach still churning, voice still shaking, tears still streaming.
You turn to leave, but his large hand gently grabs your chin, tilting your head so that you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.
“Ya can’t jus’ expect me to let ya run off on me like this,” he whispers, his turquoise eyes boring into your own. “Come inside, dummy. ‘m not gon’ make ya eat, but at least come in and get warm. It’s fuckin snowing, you’re already shiverin', and ‘m not a fan of sending anyone out into the cold, ‘specially in a state like this. Those eyes of yours are gonna freeze shut.”
He’s careful as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, gently leading you into his place. He helps you out of your coat and boots, before setting them near the heater to dry, and settling you on the couch. By the time he comes back in with the groceries that he’d left in the hall, you haven’t stopped crying, but at least you’ve stopped shaking like a leaf.
You feel so pathetic. You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry until you were out of his sight, yet here you were, softly sobbing like a heartbroken little kid, curled up on his couch. You can hear him rummaging around in the cabinets, and after a few minutes, you’re out of tears and he’s walking out with a mug of hot chocolate, a heaping pile of whipped cream on top.
He hands you the mug and you offer him a weak smile in return before he speaks, his voice still gentle. “So, dummy, you gon’ tell me what’s got you cryin’ at my doorstep?”
“It’s nothing, Jay,” you manage to reply, concentrating on making sure that your voice doesn’t shake or crack again.
You can feel him staring at you as you sip at the sugary concoction he’s given you. When you burn your tongue, you gently place the mug on the coffee table, careful to use the coaster he’s got sitting there.
“I don’t wanna push,” he begins with a sigh. “But it’s clearly not ‘nothing’ if you’re crying. Who the hell do I need to beat up?”
You manage a weak chuckle, shaking your head. “Jay, I swear, it’s nothing. I’m not going to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because, it’s stupid.”
He grabs your chin again, making you look at him as he speaks, “It’s not stupid if it’s got you upset, dummy. It’s killing me to see you hurt. You’ve got a big heart, we both know it. But, you don’t go around cryin’ over ‘nothing.’
“I’ve seen you cry when we’ve watched Titanic, The Notebook, and Bridge to Terabithia. But in the months we’ve known each other, I’ve never seen ya cry for no reason. If you’re crying, it's because you’re hurtin’ something fierce. Tell me that ya read The Fault in Our Stars again. Tell me ya saw that old commercial with the abused puppies in cages and the Sarah McLachlan song in it. But don’t sit here and tell me that you’re cryin’ over nothing. We both know that isn’t true.”
You can’t say anything. Not when he just, with the softest voice you’ve ever heard him use, reads you from memory like he reads Pride and Prejudice. Not when he’s looking at you like that, raw concern in his pretty eyes. Not when he’s holding your jaw like you’re made of glass. How is it, within the span of September to February, he’s managed to memorize you?
You can’t help it. In a surge of emotion, you crash your lips to his. He freezes for a moment, but then his hands move to either side of your face, cradling your face so tenderly in his large, warm hands. He kisses you back with a slow, steady passion that sets your veins alight.
It isn’t until you brush your tongue against his lips that he pulls away, his face red, hands shaking, and his eyes blown wide with lust.
“I’m sorry, Jay,” you whisper, feeling ashamed as you turn your focus to your hands. You’re not sorry that you did it. You’re sorry that you didn’t ask for his consent before you did it. It feels like nearly every cell in your body is glowing and vibrating with excitement. Yet, you forced yourself on him.
“Hey, dummy,” he mutters with a small chuckle. “You wanna look at me?”
You do as he says and you see a big, dopey grin on his face. His eyes are filled with hope, light, and warmth, making your heart do a cartwheel.
“Why are you apologizing,” he asks gently, hesitation obvious.
“I just jumped on you,” you reply honestly, and once you start, you can’t seem to stop. “I mean, you wrote that beautiful poem, Jay. I know that you’re interested in someone else and I just forced myself on you.”
“You… You think that I’m into someone else,” he asks, an eyebrow cocked as he shakes his head.
“I mean, it was so beautiful and you clearly had someone in mind when you wrote it. I didn’t-”
You don’t get to continue your thought as he pulls you back into him, pressing a searing hot kiss to your lips. He places his hands firmly on your hips, slowly lowering you onto the couch. You’re confused, but you can’t bring yourself to argue. This time, it's him that brushes his tongue against your lips. You open your mouth without a moment of hesitation, a low groan escaping his throat as your tongues intertwine. When you part for air, he easily moves his mouth to your neck, placing soft kisses to the flesh there in a way that sends a shudder down your spine. He gently nips at your neck and you find a whimper escaping your mouth.
He pulls away after a moment of nipping and sucking at your neck, a proud grin covering his face as he examines the already forming marks on your skin.
“I’m. Going. To. Give. You. Three. Guesses. Who? Do. You. Think. That. Poem. Was. For. Now,” he mutters, punctuating each word with a soft kiss to your lips.
“Me,” you whisper, unmistakable hope thoroughly lacing your voice.
“Damn right. Couldn’t get the balls to tell ya, so I was writing a poem to give ya tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Valentine’s Day, dummy,” he replies, allowing you both to sit back up.
“Oh.”
“If you liked the poem and me, I was going to invite you back here. I got all the stuff to make your favorites,” he offers, rubbing the back of his neck. “When I saw you at my door, I was hoping that you wouldn’t see what was in the bags and spoil the surprise. But clearly, I just spoiled it myself.”
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you and you didn’t know how to tell me you weren't interested,” you confessed, feeling bashful.
“I’ve been flirting with ya since OCTOBER, dummy. But when you hadn’t gotten the hint by Christmas break, I asked my brothers and my grandfather for help… They all said to spit it out and tell ya. But, I got so nervous, I felt like I was gonna hurl every time I tried to tell ya.”
“You’ve been flirting with me since October? The only thing that really changed in October was that you started calling me…”
“Dummy. I started calling you dummy. ’m not the best at this kinda thing, okay? When you held my hand on the way to that coffee shop back in November, I thought my heart was jus’ gonna up and burst. I’ve never… I’ve never liked anyone the way I like you.”
“Guess that neighbor kid was right,” you mutter, picking up your mug again, taking a hearty sip of the now cooled cocoa.
“Huh?”
“Neighbor kid is about twelve. She said that boys her age start acting the way you did because they like someone. I told her that was silly, because we were adults, not kids.”
“Well, I guess, you make me feel like a child, dummy.”
You find yourself letting out a laugh as he bashfully speaks, “You know, if you'd like, I could read you the rest of that poem?”
“I’d like that, Jay.”
"Since the day I met you, you’ve enchanted me.
An unfamiliar comfort in a life of pain.
I’ve found that you are the other half of me.
The bright light to the darkness of my world.
When I feel lost in an empty sea,
Your smile is a beacon leading me to shore
All-encompassing taste of glee,
Everything I want and truly need.
Pulling the fraying threads of my sanity
To tie them back together, you make it look easy.
You are the lighthouse that leads me to safety
In the best of all of my dreams, it’s you that holds me.”
“Hey Jay?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me again?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he mutters before crashing his lips back to yours.