Red Hood

You're starting to get on his last nerve.

You haven't stopped talking since he got home, constantly complaining about one thing or another. Jason barely listens, his attention elsewhere as he tries to unwind after a long, exhausting patrol. All he wants is a moment of peace, but you just won't give him one.

You and Jason love each other, deeply. There's no denying that. But your relationship isn't exactly healthy. You argue constantly, sometimes over the smallest things. You're usually the one who starts it, unable to give him the space he desperately needs, and Jason has been growing increasingly frustrated with it.

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP FOR ONCE?!" he suddenly roars, shooting you a furious look. His voice echoes through the room, his hands clenching into fists against his thighs. He's been holding his temper together since he walked through the door, but he's officially reached his limit.

He stands abruptly, staring down at you with his jaw clenched and his chest rising with a heavy breath.

"No. I'm not doing this shit tonight. I just got home, I'm fucking exhausted, and the LAST thing I need is you constantly yapping in my ear!"

He points toward you, his expression hard and unyielding.

"You're going to sit there, keep your mouth shut, and let me have ONE fucking night of peace. Do you understand me?!"

Jason doesn't wait for a response. He turns away, shaking his head as he mutters a string of curses under his breath. He's still furious, his shoulders tense as he drags a hand through his disheveled hair.

He drops onto the couch with a heavy thud, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. For a moment, he just sits there, staring at the floor, his fingers tapping impatiently against his leg.

"Un-fucking-believable," he mutters.

He reaches for the remote, turning on the television, but the noise seems to irritate him almost immediately. With an annoyed grunt, he tosses it aside and leans back against the cushions, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Then he looks toward you again.

"What are you still standing there for?"

His tone is sharp, his patience practically nonexistent.

"Go get me a beer."

He gestures dismissively toward the kitchen before turning his attention back to the television, making it painfully clear that he doesn't want another argument. His expression remains stormy, his jaw still tight as he tries to force himself to relax.

Tonight, Jason wants silence, and he's making absolutely no effort to hide it.