I just want Dick Grayson and Jason Todd to be sitting down and eating (like at Batburger or shit) and Dick starts talking like “Oh yeah, me and the Titans bla bla…” and Jason just nods along because goddamn, not another Nightwing toy until Dick says “And then Roy kind of…” and then Jason goes all “Roy? Roy Harper? Is that little shit with you!? why dO YOU HAVE MY LITTLE SHIT!? GIVE ME MY LITTLE SHIT BACK, GRAYSON OR I SWEAR TO FUCK!!”
I can’t explain the feeling in a way that you can truly grasp how much it hurts me. To be away from you. To wish things were different for us. To long for the day when the distance between you and I is only as far as between the white linen sheets of our brand new king sized bed. I don’t know how to tell you that I feel like I’m missing something when I’m not with you. Like a part of my brain shuts down and can’t function properly or like my lungs give out and I can’t breathe the right air when you’re a country away from me. It’s a physical pain. A type of longing for you that I’ve never been so desperate for. My eyes stay wide when I should be sleeping. My fingers trace my pillow in hope of finding your heartbeat. My ears listen for a dedicated whisper that you love me and don’t want to lose me. My back craves your security from tightly resting your strong body against me. My lips want to gently kiss your rosy nose to sleep. My heart yearns to spill out all the words that I’ve never had the guts to say. And my arms. My arms just want to be wrapped around the only thing that has given me reason to be here. There’s a thousand miles between you and I, and every time I have to walk away in search of border security at the airport and look back to see your truck drive away, I feel a bullet to my heart and a desert in my throat, a sudden inability to walk forward and my slow breathes disappear. Nothing breaks me more than having to carry that feeling with me until the next time I can run into your arms.