Fill My Lungs | J. Todd ✔

[00] One Rough Night

Drowning his sorrows in alcohol wasn't his preferred option for dealing with the situation he was stuck in. But there he was at the bar, losing count of how many drinks he had had as his vision was getting blurred and his thoughts were swimming incoherently in the pool of despair.

Jason sat alone, knowing that if he consumed a few more drinks, he wouldn't be in the state to go back to his safehouse on his own. So he kept a leash on himself, forcing himself not to give in to another shot.

The noise of the people around him had muffled to an insignificant buzz and he felt quite detached from his surroundings, as if he was physically there but mentally he was still stuck in the terrible nights he had lived through over the course of those five years.

He had been killed by the Joker and then resurrected by Ra's Al Ghul to use as a weapon. Finally, when he broke free from the chains and returned to Gotham, he set fire to what he once called home because his killer was still roaming free.

But what had that gotten him?

Nothing.

And though he had somewhat resolved his conflicts with Bruce, he no longer stayed in Gotham for any longer than it was necessary.

He felt unwanted, a burden on his family and sometimes it would make him end up thinking if he was better off dead.

Right then with the alcohol swimming in his veins, the pressure of those depressing thoughts was at its extreme and he felt particularly worn out.

Too tired to defend himself from the accusations his brain threw at him and too detached to bring himself back to reality.

Someone pushed out the stool beside him and took the seat but he didn't pay any heed. His head rested on the counter over his arm, his eyes drooping from the weight of the alcohol and the degrading thoughts running through his head.

If he drank enough to numb it all out, he would end up doing something he would regret later.

And he certainly didn't want to add another regret to the already long list he had.

It would only become one more thing to weigh him down on another such night when he would be at his lowest, wondering why he had survived.

He did not want that so he blocked out everything to lapse into a state of silence.

"One vodka, please," a voice close to him shattered that temporary silence and reluctantly, he tilted his head to look at the person sitting next to him.

In the dim lights of the bar and his own disheveled state of mind, he couldn't catch her features, only a hint of long brown hair and grey eyes registered in his head. The young woman had ordered a shot and she too seemed to be in very low spirits.

"Bad day?" He asked softly, making her eyes flicker in his direction.

"Very, yours?"

"The worst."

She lifted the shot the bartender had placed in front of her, warning her that he would not be giving her another drink as she had already consumed too much. Disregarding that warning, she tipped the drink down, ignoring the burning feeling in her insides.

"Got dumped?" She asked, turning to look at him again, her grey eyes meeting his bluish-green irises.

He straightened, able to see her a bit clearly by then, "not really. Work problems."

She shook her head, a bitter smile creasing her lips, "I see. Why would anyone dump such a pretty face as you?"

He didn't reply to the remark, focusing on distinguishing her features from the hazy darkness but he still couldn't make out much. Perhaps he had been drinking for a lot longer than he thought.

So he rested his head back on his arm, intending to close his eyes to clear his head before leaving the bar. The woman didn't say anything further as she ordered another shot and got declined.

He could hear her disappointed groan and the light sound of her head dropping on the counter as well. A while later, thin fingers brushed through his hair, making him open his eyes.

"Looks like we're both having a really rough night," she mumbled, her voice soft and gentle, almost like a lullaby, "sucks, doesn't it?"

"Sucks," he mumbled in reply, relishing the feel of her fingers curling at his messy hair. 

The thoughts that had been screaming at him a while earlier were starting to quieten down the more her fingers brushed through his head. And just like that, he didn't want to leave.

He might not know her name or even what she looked like but for that short moment, her presence felt like that of a kindred soul, offering a slight thread of comfort for him to hold on to. It could snap under the weight of all the darkness pulling him down but for the short while that it was there, he wanted to hold on.

So when her lips gently touched his, he did not pull apart.

It might become another regret but at the moment, he just didn't care.

If he had felt that her fingers brushing through his hair was comforting, the feel of her soft lips against his own was even sweeter. He straightened, arms gently wrapping around her thin waist to pull her close. She didn't object, letting him hold her as her fingers brushed over his cheeks, leaving her feathery touch all over his face.

He did not know if it was the alcohol in his system or the craving of being touched that softly by someone that he just gave in to her. 

Sometime later, they had been kicked out of the bar. But under the night sky, and after having a very rough night, the two finally laughed, hands locked with each other as he bent down to steal her breath with a kiss again.

He had shut down the alarm going off in his head that he was probably making another mistake. He had already made too many mistakes to keep track of, what harm could one more do? And just like that, he chose to end that rough night on his own terms.

He scooped up the delicate young woman in his arms, hearing her light laughter resonate around him as she rested her head on his shoulder. And then he left that dreary place with her although a few minutes back, he would never have thought of himself succumbing to such measures.

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