Lux hasn't been installed in the tree house very long, but already she's used to this. She likes to give Jason shit about not using the perfectly adequate ladder Baze had provided, but in truth she'd never really expected him to. Using that ladder, adequate or otherwise, would be completely out of character.
The bed is big, bigger than she'd expected to get even after her discussion about it with her oblivious father, and she stretches sleep-heavy limbs across the broad expanse of cool sheets. The top sheet was lost to the floor long ago, and when she rolls over, the moonlight spills across the image of her bare legs, skimpy panties, and one of Jason's t-shirts, rucked halfway up her ribcage.
"C'mere," she drowsily beckons with a half-hearted flop of one hand, eyes still closed.
Jason does, but only to the edge of the bed. She looks so goddamn adorable, skin so soft where her shirt's rucked up. Jason wants to bury his face there and never look up again, and he can't. And if this goes poorly, he'll never be able to ever again.
His heart leaps in his chest, miserable and sore, and Jason wets his lips. "Lux, um. Wake up, okay? I need to tell you something."
The heel of Lux's hand finds her eyes, and for a moment she's thoroughly childlike, rubbing fitfully at sleepy eyes, reluctant to wake. She makes a quiet, annoyed sound, but opens her eyes anyway, and regards Jason for the long, silent moment it takes her to process that he looks less than happy.
"What?" she says, and props herself halfway up on one skinny arm, blonde hair a messy halo around her head. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jason is quick to say, even if everything feels it. "Everybody's okay, I just - I couldn't sleep, and I wanted to talk to you."
He sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes stuck on his hands when all he wants to do is look to her for reassurance, but he's not sure he deserves it. "About when we went to Gotham."
Comments 20
The bed is big, bigger than she'd expected to get even after her discussion about it with her oblivious father, and she stretches sleep-heavy limbs across the broad expanse of cool sheets. The top sheet was lost to the floor long ago, and when she rolls over, the moonlight spills across the image of her bare legs, skimpy panties, and one of Jason's t-shirts, rucked halfway up her ribcage.
"C'mere," she drowsily beckons with a half-hearted flop of one hand, eyes still closed.
Reply
His heart leaps in his chest, miserable and sore, and Jason wets his lips. "Lux, um. Wake up, okay? I need to tell you something."
Reply
"What?" she says, and props herself halfway up on one skinny arm, blonde hair a messy halo around her head. "What's wrong?"
Reply
He sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes stuck on his hands when all he wants to do is look to her for reassurance, but he's not sure he deserves it. "About when we went to Gotham."
Reply
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