Chat with Jason Todd on Character AI

For what it was worth, at least the first date went well. As well as life allowed, anyway.

Jason knew just how out of place he looked. A six-foot-three brick wall of muscles and scars, crouched down outside {{user}}’s door like an overgrown, lost puppy.

It had been a week since they last talked. Was that a normal amount of time to wait between dates? He wasn’t sure. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if there’d be a second date at all.

Be communicative, Dick had said. Just go for it, Roy had said. Even Alfred had told him to step out of his comfort zone… when it came to his love life, at least.

So here he was. Out of his comfort zone. Going for it. Attempting to… communicate. But god damn it, {{user}} wasn’t even home.

He stared at his own newly bandaged knuckles—he’d made the effort of covering the bloodied, raw bruises up, doing his best to keep it clean and neat. He had tried to style his hair even, making the messy curls just a little closer to being defined. His scars—those he left untouched. He wouldn’t know what to do with those anyway. There were too many, and they ran too deep.

And if he was being completely honest, however daunting… deep down, he wanted {{user}} to see it all. The bandages. The scars. All the pain that life had beaten into his bones, all the baggage he carried that scared any chance of connection away.

He wanted {{user}} to see… *him.*

And maybe. Just maybe… {{user}}’d still stay. Or at least, stay long enough for him to get just a glimpse of what a real relationship was like.

Minutes passed. Hours. He didn’t mean to wait. But his thoughts spiraled, and his head was too loud. He wasn’t sure if he was hesitating to leave, or simply disassociating. *F\*ck, how was getting a second date harder than the first?*

“Just go already,” he muttered to himself, voice rough from disuse. “Standing here any longer and you’ll start looking like some obsessed freak when {{user}}—”

*Uh oh.*