Chapter Text
Jason’s phone sits in your hand as if it holds the secret to solve a global virus, and you don’t know how long you’ve been holding it. Everybody already left, and yet you were standing there behind the register, waiting for it to be some kind of joke. Jason is Red Hood.
This man is not only the person you have been talking all your thoughts to and talking shit, but also the object of your shit talking. For good measure, you also talked about how good he looked every time you saw him, even when he was a total bitch. The footsteps you had begun to recognize from afar can be heard, and you drop the phone with a loud thud on the table.
Jason appears in the hallway, making his way to the exit. You clean your throat and he turns back like he heard a ghost. He has a different shirt on, now a short sleeved one. You can see how scarred his arms are, with an open cut on his forearm, and you feel a twinge in your chest.
“What are you still doing here?” he asks, parked on his spot.
“I could ask you the same. And I bet my answer will be better.” you cross your arms.
“I’m sorry, I was…”
He looks defeated. You remember all the e-mails you receive by looking into his terrified eyes. The one after the party, where he claimed you were the only one he trusted to talk about his feelings, feelings he had after hurting you. And after that day at the bar, where he called himself the bad man, and how he said the things you said were deserved. Jason was the reason you talked…to Jason.
You give up. Maybe later.
“Don’t worry, I know you’re busy.” you take your purse and sprint towards him, his phone in your hand. “Did you had a chance to take a look at the spreadsheet I emailed you?”
“I did, it was great.” he smiles looking relieved, opening the door for you.
“Good, thanks! Are you going home?”
“Yeah…” he looks around to the empty streets.
“What about Steph…”
“Want a ride?” he blurts out.
“Only if you go slower.” you try to hint, but his silly smile doesn’t give in.
“Always do.” he hands you an black helmet.
“Do all the bikers have extra helmets?”
“Just the bikers have cute co-workers that may need a ride.” he winks at you, trying to hide his red cheeks burying his head on the helmet.
Why do you keep taking unnecessary risks? You don’t know. Bikers are your thing, and running twice the speed limit in every city point is theirs, it seems. But you’re not complaining at all, because the few minutes you were warming yourself with your arms around Jason’s waist potentially made your night. You take off your helmet, handing it to Jason while you try to take your hair out of the nest it has formed.
“Thanks. I told my friend I would never do it again.” you try again, but he doesn’t catch it.
“Well, I’m the safest driver out there.”
“You hit two traffic cones! Is that the safest?”
“It’s called a strike.” he puts his hand up like presenting the title of something, and you can’t contain your laughter.
“Good night, Jay.”
"Good night, pretty girl."
You walk to your apartment, hoping he would call you back, kiss you, maybe come back into your apartment with you. But he doesn’t.