Red Rain [Jason Todd]

.19

I woke up heavily, beginning to stretch beneath the blankets. I opened my eyes slowly, seeing my window cracked open with the curtains slightly drifting in the wind.

My mind was set on getting up, but I just didn't want to. I guess my body was still a little...tired, from last night after the party. I slightly bit my lip from thinking about it.

I took a deep, relaxing breath, laying on my bare stomach and continuing to gaze out the window.

My door opened, making me glance over my shoulder to Red peaking his head in. Like usual, he was shirtless and in sweats. Not that I minded...

"Why aren't you up and in the kitchen?" He questions as he walks in.

"Why do you ask something like that every time I don't make breakfast?" I question back. He crawls onto the bed, making me close my eyes.

"What?" He asks, placing one hand on my waist and trapping me between his arm and body.

"Nothing."

"Let me tell you something," He says sternly, forcing me to look at him, "I don't like nothing as an answer."

I furrowed my brows, "And when did you start telling me how to answer you?"

"Just now."

I rolled my eyes with a small smile, "Whatever."

He smiled, laying his chin on his fist that rested on my hip. His brow raised as his eyes narrowed, "So...are you making breakfast...or..."

"No, I'm not." I laugh, moving beneath the blankets and flipping to face him completely, "Why don't you try to make breakfast since you always seem to want it every morning."

He shrugged, "I'll burn it."

"No you won't-"

"Yes, I will." He says as if he was genuinely telling the truth, no amusement in his voice. "And I don't know how to cook like you do."

"And?"

"I want your kind of food." He answers as if it was the obvious answer.

"My kind of food?" I repeat with an arched eyebrow and he nods.

"Yes, your kind of food-"

"I'm not arguing about food with you." I reply amusedly, scooting to the edge of the bed and picking up my clothes on the floor to pull them on.

"Then you can at least help out. I'm fucking starving and I need something to fill me up. Not cereal," He explains, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as I pull my hair into another bun.

"Starving?" I smile, looking back at him, "Must've really worked up an appetite last night, huh?"

"What can I say?" He shrugs again, leaning on his knees and locking his hands together with a sly smirk.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, turning around and walking towards him again. I grabbed his hands and pulled him up (of course he stood up to keep from putting his actual weight on me), "Well, then you better get in the kitchen and get started."

"Are you planning on helping me?" He questions, tightening his grip on my hand before I could fully let go.

"Yes, geesh, can I freshen up first?" I chuckle with furrowed brows and he nods with a small laugh.

"Right, right."

He let my hand go as we headed separate ways; I turned to go to my bathroom and he went to my bedroom door.