Roy harper x reader — Rough day. Close fire and even closer hearts (fluff, drabble)
Sat in a beat-up bar out of the city, you looked with tired eyes at the people dancing. A commercial pop song was playing faintly over the speakers; and even the owners of the place seemed to hate it.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you knew who was calling without even looking at the contact. You answered
Roy sighed on the other side of the line. “Where are you, doll?”
“Hmmh. Nice try” Roy mumbled “You gave me your location for cases like these. I’m on my way to the bar”
Before you could protest, he hung up.
“Great” you gritted trough your teeth.
Minutes after, Roy stumbled trough the bar’s door. You looked at him from the corner of you eye and waved. He approached and took in your form.
“You look like shit, but at least you’re not drunk” Roy sighed in relief.
“Not yet” He quickly took your glass away and you just let him. “You know that’s water right?” You scoffed “calm down, Roy”
“I’m just– sorry. I don’t want you to get wasted everytime you’re sad. It’s difficult to get out of there”
You knew he spoke from experience. Your heart clenched a bit at his words. Even if you weren’t the type to just get drunk mindlessly, you knew he was genuinely worried you had done something stupid.
“Let’s get out of here” you grabbed his arm and shot a quick smile his way.
Sat in the hood of his car, Roy pulled out two cigarettes, handing you one. He searched his pockets for the lighter and cursed under his breath when he realized he didn’t bring one with him. You were quick to rummage through your bag to find yours, then handed it to Roy.
He smirked as he took your lighter and examined it. “Didn’t take you for a smoker, doll”
You shrugged, “I’m not. I just like to burn things”
You caught him off ward with that answer, but he quickly recomposed and shot you a crooked grin.
You laughed under your breath.
“C’mere” his words were muffled by the cigarette resting on his mouth.
The tips of your cigarettes touched as he lit them up both.
You took a moment to appreciate his face. The flames dancing on his face forming shadows, his cheeks flushed from the cold and wind. His freckles and his messy scarlet hair.
You parted once the tips were shining with ashes falling. You took a slow drag from your cig, and the bitter taste of nicotine filled your senses.
You heard Roy sigh next to you, “Rough day?” he asked, voice low and raspy.
You hummed, and he nodded back.
The smoke did forms and shadows on the night sky and moved hypnotically. The stars and moon shined over the smoke, and the sight was calming.
A breath of fresh air (mostly) after your shitty day.
Roy couldn’t help but stare at you instead.
