It Burns For a Moment, but Then it Molds You

Chapter three: The Princess Wears War Paint.

Jason stayed for a bit, he didn't have to be home right away since on the way to your home he saw no evidence of anyone being home, so he'd stay until you had to go to the Asylum to check up on your mom.

Currently, you were in the shower. So he sat on the couch in the living room and read from one of your older sister's books. The place wasn't much better than his, but at least there wasn't mold growing on the walls.

Your sister had a fond liking over Jason, but didn't like it when he was here for more than three days in a row. Which has happened before, but there was a reason behind that and it wasn't the best one. His parents decided to split because Gotham Police were looking into something, so Jason had to stay somewhere for a bit while his parents ran off until things cooled down enough for them to come back.

Jason's phone in his pocket vibrated, causing him to close to book and fold a corner of the page back just barely. He'll read just about anything. The clunky flip phone buzzed again, Layla had been texting him.

Got any pics of (y/n) in her new dress?

He smirked, yeah he would eventually have them. Just he'd wait until you get out of the shower of course. From where he sat on the old boy squishy soft couch, he could hear a blow dryer coming from the bathroom in the hallway. He honestly couldn't wait to see you in a dress, it's such a rare sight to see but he loved it every time.

He knows you don't hate being dressed up. But if you can avoid it, you might just do so. But the smile on your face when you would tuck a skirt down, or when you would tug on the material of a dress you wore. Secretly, he knew it was a rarity you enjoyed delightfully. It made you feel like you were more than just some street kid, he just loved watching you feel like you're more than you are. Because you are.

She'll be out in a minute I'm p sure.

Jason texted back quickly, smirking to himself. He was getting kinda anxious? He knew this was important to you, seeing your mother and all.

So when you came out of the restroom with only slightly damp (h/c) hair draped over your left shoulder. You wore a light pink dress that outlined the curves to your chest, just barely. It flared out and stopped right above your knees. You wore patterned grey socks that went right below your knees and the same heavy black boots you'd been wearing recently.

Jason had to refrain from Delong a jaw, were you wearing lipstick? Whenever you wore lipstick you had a habit of-

"Every time!" You exclaimed, holding your stomach and laughing at the dumb look on your best friends face.

Jason was yanked fr his thoughts when you came over and planted a kiss on is cheek, literally everything you wore lipstick you would leave a mark on several cheeks. Jason should be use to it by now, but the burning in his face never seems to settle.

"Pink dress, pink lipstick? Who're you and just what have you done with my sister?" Jason peeped over the couch, looking at the pink mark you left over your sister's cheek.

You seemed to teleport across the room it seemed. He pulled out his phone, taking a picture of you while you're not looking. He sent I to Layla.

And the princess wears war paint.

Jason let out a small laugh at his own comment, watching as you slipped on the denim jacket that once belonged to him.

Jason got up from the couch and made his way over to you, putting his hands on his hips and smirking, the pink marks of your lips on his cheeks not gone yet.

You grinned, standing on your tiptoes and hugging your best friend one more time before leaving to see your mom.

As you walked out the door? Jason gripped the flask in his hand that he had snaked out from your jacket pocket.

He was good at picking pockets, and he glared at the full piece of metal that held vodka. Untwisting the lid, he poured it down the sink. You need better coping skills.