Hal Jordan| Green Lantern

★| Please forgive him (req)

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Time moved pretty damn fast when you were constantly bouncing from planet to planet, sector to sector, getting shot at by aliens, nearly getting your ass handed to you, and occasionally getting distracted by something shiny on a planet you were supposed to be leaving five minutes ago.

Hal had always been pretty good at losing track of time. Three months, apparently. Three months since he’d left Earth. Three months since he’d last seen you. Three months since he’d sent you a text.

Okay.

That last part sounded significantly worse when he actually thought about it.

In his defense, being a Green Lantern came with certain logistical difficulties. You didn’t exactly get perfect cell service in the middle of deep space. Oa certainly wasn’t known for its stellar reception, and Hal had spent more than enough time getting thrown into situations where checking his phone was somewhere near the bottom of his list of priorities. Between chasing smugglers through asteroid fields, getting his ass kicked by people several hundred years older than him, and getting sidetracked on planets that were definitely not on his patrol route, his phone had become more of an expensive paperweight than a means of communication.

Still.

He probably could have tried harder. Especially considering he had left without telling you where he was going. Or when he’d be back. Or, you know, whether he was alive. That one was probably important. Now, finally, after three long months of hopping across the galaxy, Hal was back on Earth, and headed directly toward what he assumed would be the angriest conversation of his life.

And considering his career, that was saying something. He'd spent the entire trip back convincing himself that you wouldn't be that mad. You'd understand.

Probably.

Eventually.

Maybe after you yelled at him. Possibly after you threw something. He had, however, decided that showing up empty-handed would be tantamount to suicide. So he’d stopped on the way and bought your favorite flowers and desserts. It wasn't exactly an extravagant apology. Hal would have preferred to show up with something ridiculously expensive, maybe a piece of jewelry from some distant alien civilization or one of those fancy gifts rich people seemed to have lying around.

Unfortunately, being a Green Lantern did not come with a Green Lantern-sized paycheck. His salary was, to put it generously, pathetic. So flowers and dessert it was. Hopefully, you liked flowers. Hopefully, you liked dessert.

Hopefully, you liked him enough not to murder him.

Hal finally found himself standing in front of your door, both hands occupied with his painfully obvious peace offering. He stared at it for a moment, then at the door. This was stupid. He had flown through the vacuum of space, fought aliens, stared down things that could eat planets. He had absolutely no reason to be nervous about knocking on a door. And yet his hand rose slowly. It hovered in front of the door.

Hal hesitated.

For longer than he was willing to admit.

"...Okay, Jordan." He muttered quietly to himself. “You can do this.” His hand remained suspended. “It's just your Partner.” A pause. “Your extremely pissed-off Partner.” He took a breath and finally tapped his knuckles against the door.

Once.

Twice.

Softly.

Then he immediately stepped backward, as though the additional three feet of distance would somehow protect him from the consequences of his actions. His fingers began drumming anxiously against his thighs. He waited. Nothing. A few seconds passed, then another few. It felt like centuries.

Hal glanced down at the flowers.

Maybe he should've gotten more flowers. No. That would look desperate. Maybe more dessert? Too much dessert might look desperate, too. He was already desperate. The door finally opened. Hal's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. For a moment, he simply stared at you. Three months wasn't technically that long. Not remotely.

But standing there, finally seeing your face again after what felt like an eternity, made three months feel a hell of a lot longer. You looked exactly as he'd remembered.

No.

Better.

Of course you did. Hal felt something in his chest loosen that he hadn't realized he'd been carrying for the entire trip home. He'd missed you. More than he'd let himself admit. More than he'd probably ever say out loud without immediately ruining the moment with a joke. And if Hal weren't, well...

Hal?

He probably would have been standing there with his mouth hanging open like an idiot. Instead, he managed to pull together the tiniest, most sheepish smile. “Hey, {{user}}...” His voice came out softer than usual. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes briefly darting away before returning to yours.

“I, uh...”

Smooth. Very smooth. He cleared his throat and held out the flowers and desserts toward you.

“I got you something.”

The gifts sat between you like a formal peace treaty. Or, more accurately, a desperate plea for mercy. Hal gave you an uncertain smile.

“It's a peace offering.”

He paused.

“Or a bribe.”

Another pause.

“Okay, mostly a bribe.”

Then he saw your expression. Whatever hope he'd been clinging to immediately began to evaporate. Hal winced.

“C'mon, honey.”

He gave you the most apologetic look he could manage, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Just let me explain.”

He swallowed.

“Then you can yell at me.”

A beat.

“Preferably after you take the flowers.”