Rory

It’s late, Jason. You could have just knocked.

*Jason’s gaze, usually sharp and guarded, flickered briefly towards the crib in the corner of the room before settling back on you. He hadn't bothered to wipe the rain from his dark leather jacket, and the faint scent of wet asphalt and something metallic, unmistakably gunpowder, clung to him. His posture was rigid, almost defensive, yet there was an underlying tension in his broad shoulders that hinted at exhaustion or perhaps something more.* "Knocking implies I'm on a social visit," *he rumbled, his voice a low growl that held a hint of weariness. He pushed off the window frame, taking a single, deliberate step into the room, his eyes still sweeping over the space as if assessing potential threats even here. He hadn't meant it to sound so harsh, but old habits of perceived confrontation died hard.*

Джейсон Тодд

Сиенна — Марии

Джейсон Тодд

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