zari

frankly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to face the responsibilities that awaited you. as if the assignments themselves weren’t enough, mundane chores around your dorm had yet to be taken care of, and the countless missed calls from family had still been left up in the air.

you really didn’t want to deal with the last one, especially, nor did you have the energy, already knowing what constant nagging awaited you.

it would be an understatement to say you were dog-tired.

but tonight, the city outside your small, secluded dorm is alive. 

alive in that late-summer way, where the sky stretched into soft twilight and the air buzzed with the last warmth of the season before cooler days came. it was supported by the faint sound of festival-like music being played from afar and the faint peal of laughter from friends and family alike drifting in the wind and in the direction of your window. 

the sweet and savoury smell of various food trucks reached you from your window, the familiar smell of cotton candy reminding you of sticky fingers and dyed tongues of various colours depending on the flavour you picked.

you can almost taste the lemon-flavoured cotton candy on your tongue. with those memories followed the ones of cheap thrills from dizzying rides or lights so bright they made the night sky seem small. 

so you’d given in to the pull of nostalgia—which is how you find yourself mindlessly walking around the fairgrounds with your ticket in hand. maybe you’d play a few games, maybe grab something sweet, and people-watch.

neon bulbs blinked in pinks and golds, the scent of frying oil and spun sugar heavier from up close. music blared from the carousel, kids shrieked as the pirate ship swooped down, and vendors barked out promises of impossible prizes. and for the first time all week, your chest loosened.

you knew it was impulsive coming down here on your own, having thrown on the first pair of jeans you found and a knitted cardigan following the colours of a sunset. but you feel good for the first time in a while, and that’s all that matters. 

it was when you stopped by the ring toss booth, curious of the oversized batman plushes lining the shelves, that it happened. a sudden shoulder brushed yours, firm enough to make you stumble with a surprised grunt.

“oh—sorry about that.”

the voice was warm and rich in a way that made you look up before you could even think. snd when you did, words caught in your throat. 

the man standing in front of you was handsome in that unfair, cinematic kind of way. dark hair fell in easy waves across his forehead, his jawline sharp under the glow of the carnival lights. his blue eyes—so bright they seemed lit from within—met yours with an open, almost sheepish grin.

it took you a second to realize he was holding something—a giant stuffed penguin pressed to his chest, its plush belly squished awkwardly against him like it had been a hard-won prize. the absurdity of it broke the spell just enough for you to speak.

“oh—i’m so sorry!” you apologized quickly, stepping back and adjusting your bag against your shoulder. “guess i wasn’t watching where i was going.” 

he laughed softly, low and genuine, rubbing the back of his neck. “me neither,” he admitted, shifting the penguin under his arm. “was too busy trying to figure out how i’m supposed to carry this thing around all night without looking ridiculous.”

you couldn’t help it—the laugh that left you was light, unguarded, slipping out before you could think. “i think you’re pulling it off.”

“yeah?” his grin widened, sheepish but self-aware, like he was both teasing and testing your words. “i’ll take that as expert approval, then.”

for a moment, the two of you just stood there—two strangers caught between the swirl of carnival chatter and the smell of caramelized sugar, with the lights painting soft colors over both your faces. it wasn’t awkward. it wasn’t forced. it was just… easy.

he shifted his weight slightly, the penguin bumping against his arm again, and then with a kind of calm confidence that felt innate rather than practiced, he held out his free hand.

“i’m richard– richard grayson. most people call me dick, though.”

you hesitated only long enough to notice how calloused his fingers looked, like they belonged to someone who used his hands more than a desk job would ever demand. then you took it, introducing yourself softly. 

and somehow that was all it took.

you didn’t even notice when he started walking next to you. it just happened, you think. one minute you were brushing past each other in the crowd, and the next he was there matching your pace like it was second nature.

“so,” he started, nodding toward the nearest game booth, where flashing lights blinked over plastic water guns. the targets were little green, white, and purple clowns. dick forced himself to ignore their extreme similarities to joker. “you good at any of these?” 

you followed his gaze. “i’d say i’m good enough.”

“yeah?” he inquired, his grin crooked. you struggle to take your eyes off his lips. “that sounds like a challenge. winner gets bragging rights?”

you snap back to reality almost immediately, your eyes finding blue once again. “careful, you’re sounding a little too confident.” you teased. you handed the booth owner enough tokens for you and dick to play, in return receiving a black and blue water gun for each of you. 

“hey, i’m giving you a fair warning here,” he began as he adjusted his water gun with the penguin plush now at his feet, not paying attention to the bright red countdown above the aiming range. “you’re about to witness some world-class carnival skill–” 

the buzzer went off. you shot your target dead center, steady and sure. his stream, however… not so much, as he only focused at the last minute, spending the first one fumbling with his gun.

when the bell dinged and each of your targets lit up bright green, you turned to him with the most smug expression you could muster; it was almost cruel. “so…world-class, huh, grayson?”

dick squawked dramatically, setting his water gun down to pick up the penguin once again. “you distracted me, that was not fair!”

“by existing?”

“exactly!”

you tried your hardest not to laugh in his face, but it burst out anyway. in between giggles, you leaned against him for stability. “what an excuse for your failures.”

he grinned at your happiness, shameless. “you’ll find i’m very innovative under pressure.”

you took the tiny stuffed prize the booth owner handed you– a fuzzy pink octopus– and held it up between you with a cheeky grin. “don’t worry, i’ll let you hold her. maybe it’ll help your confidence.” you teased even further, more giggles leaving you at the wounded look he shoots you, but his eyes were smiling. 

you have no idea why you’re so giggly tonight, but you find that his company is the reason for that.

“you’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

“not a chance.’

he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re enjoying this way too much.’

“maybe i just like seeing you lose.’

he shot you a grin over the penguins soft arm, the one that usually got him out of trouble with bruce. “then i”ll happily lose to you again,”

and God, it was the way you laughed at that. not polite or rehearsed, just bright and real– that did something to him.

dick originally came to the fair to clear his head. balancing the amount of cases on his desk at work and patrol every night was draining him to the bone.

he’d come to the fair using it as an opportunity to drown in the hypnotizing flashing lights, in each game he played without once thinking about what waited for him when he had to make his inevitable return to the real world. 

not to get wrecked by an addictively gorgeous stranger with a dangerous smile and a laugh that made the world flip and turn in all directions, where his sole compass was that sweet tone.

but here you were, walking beside him through the blur of lights, and God, he can’t stop looking at you. not for more than a few seconds at a time. 

there was a rhythm to it all now. you’d bump his shoulder as you walked; he’d tease you about being competitive. you’d toss your hair when you laughed, and he’d pretend he wasn’t watching the way the lights caught it. 

the two of you wandered deeper into the fairgrounds after you claimed your prize, trading jokes and half-serious dares as you passed each booth.

somewhere between the smell of caramel and popcorn and the neon swirl of lights from the carousel, you forgot that you’d only just met. 

it felt like something older. like picking up a conversation you’d paused a long time ago. 

it felt natural…and you liked it. a little too much. liked him a little too much. but so did he. 

dick bought you fries oreos without asking, because, as he said, “you look like someone who doesn’t pretend not to like fried food.”

you pretended to glare. “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“means you’ve got good taste,” he said, breaking one in half and handing you the bigger piece. you were both sat on a bench overlooking the fair. 

you took it, lips curling. dick stared at your lips longer than he intended to. “flattery and sugar? that’s a dangerous combination.”\

“i’m just trying to even the playing field after my devastating loss earlier.” dick said, dusting powdered sugar off his hands

and…accidentally, onto your nose.

you blinked. “did you just—?”

his eyes went wide, then softened with a charming laugh. damn him. “okay, that was not intentional. i promise.”

“here, truce.” he said, leaning in before you could react. dick’s thumb brushed lightly across your nose, wiping the sugar away. he was close enough now that you caught the faint scent of sandalwood and citrus, with a hint of spice.

 dick’s voice dropped just slightly, soft with amusement. “there. crisis averted.”

the moment hung there, suspended—something fluttering beneath it.

somewhere between your second shared snack and yur third game booth, dick realized his heart had picked up a steady thrum that had nothing to do with the sugar rush. 

it made his chest go tight.

dick wasn’t used to this. not the flustered heartbeat, not the warm, steady ache low in his stomach every time he saw the stars reflected in your eyes. he was used to quick smiles, harmless flirting thatnever quite hit this deep. 

it wasn’t just the way you looked under the soft lighting of the streetlight. though, he thought, that alone would be enough to knock him out.

it was the way you moved through the world, like you were in some secret rhythm only you could hear. like he was lucky you even let him fall in step beside you

in the night, dick sees you as the sun. and he, some inhabitable planet caught in your orbit, can only drift closer, absorbing every trace of your warmth as if it will make him feel alive again. 

you suddenly stopped at another booth, the dart toss, and turned to him with that grin again. “i bet i can win you something.” 

he blinked, startled. “you’re gonna win me something?”

you gave him a mock-serious nod. “to make up for earlier. think of it as charity work.”

he couldn’t stop himself from smiling—wide, helpless, stupid. “wow. my prince charming.”

when you took aim, dick leaned against the booth beside you, watching the focus crease your brow. he ignores how badly he wants to soothe them with his fingers.

you threw the dart and hit the balloon dead center. another one, another perfect pop. you turned to him, triumphant. 

“see? i told you!”

the vendor handed you a stuffed dog, and you pressed it into his chest with a shy smile. “for you.”

dick looked down at it, then back at you, his insides feeling warm and gooey. 

“you know,” he said slowly, voice a little rough, “i can’t remember the last time someone won me something.”

at his words you smiled again, softer this time. “then you were long overdue.” 

and that was it. the quiet way you said it. the simple sincerity behind it. that’s when he knew he was in trouble. for real this time. 

when you pointed to the ferris wheel, its lights blinking lazily against the night sky, he squinted playfully.

“you afraid of heights, dick?” you asked curiously.

“me?” he blinked, eyes flicking back to you.

dick thinks of a circus, adrenaline pumping in his blood with each flip made off unbelievable heights.

he thinks of flying, once for a crowd with his parents, now as nightwing, the only way he knows how to keep living. heights are all he’s ever known.

“not at all,” he cleared his throat, a soft smile on his lips. “quite the opposite, actually. you?” 

you hummed thoughtfully, focused on the glimmer in his blue eyes. you loop your arm through his, dragging him along to the slowly forming line. “a little, but let’s hop on anyway. no time to waste.”

from the very top of the ferris wheel, the fair stretched endlessly below, tiny figures moving under ribbons of light. the air was cooler there, soft against your cheeks.

you pointed out constellations he couldn’t name, and dick found himself more interested in the way your voice softened when you talked about the stars.

the car jolted slightly, and you instinctively grabbed his arm.

he bit back a grin. “fine?”

“perfectly,” you muttered, not letting go.

dick’s chuckle was soft this time, the sound of it blending into the hum of the carnival below. “i don’t mind the hand grab. you can keep it there if it helps.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t move your hand.

when the car reached the top, everything went quiet. the noise of the crowd faded into a low murmur, the lights below looking like a scattering of stars against the dark field.

“wow,” you breathed, eyes wide as the breeze swept across your face.

dick looked out, then at you. “yeah,” he murmured, but he wasn’t looking at the view anymore.

you turned toward him, catching that look—gentle, intent, like he was seeing something he didn’t want to forget. it made your heart skip, though you quickly turned back toward the skyline to hide the small smile pulling at your mouth.

he wasn’t supposed to feel like this. it was ridiculous, really. he’d just met you, but already, the sound of your laugh was something he was dreaming of hearing again, for years. it hit him somewhere deep and unexpected, but very real.

when the wheel finally descended, he almost wished it hadn’t. the moment ground returned beneath his feel, the spell seemed like it might break. 

you turned to him, checking your phone as it buzzed, and frowned slightly. “oh, crap… i’m sorry, my roommate just texted. she’s locked out of our dorm.” your frown deepened, not wanting to end the night with him so early.

dick smiled, even if something inside him dipped. “then..let me walk you out?” he offered, already leading you in the direction of the exit as you pocketed your phone. 

the crowd had thinned. the music played was softer now, fading into the hum of conversation and the crunch of gravel underfoot.

when you both finally reached the gate, you hesitated. “you should probably keep your prize safe.” you said softly, nodding toward the penguin and the small dog plush you won him. 

he paused, then looked down at the penguin. the ridiculous, soft thing that had somehow survived the whole night with him. dick brushed his thumb against its plush wing before he held it out to you.

“you should take it then.”

your eyes widened a little, eyes flicking between the plush and dick’s eyes. “what? no–no, you won that. i can’t take that from you.”

“i can’t think of a better souvenir for my night of glorious defeats.” dick’s smile softened, less teasing now. “besides, i want you to have something to remember me by.” 

you took it carefully, fingers brushing his. “you’re pretty sweet, you know that?”

“i’ve been told.”

dick watched you tuck the penguin under your arm, the lamp lights casting a halo around your face. you were smiling, small and shy this time. he wanted to say something—anything—to keep you standing there just a little longer.

instead, you beat him to it. “will i see you again?”

the question caught him off guard, the hope in your sweet voice twisting something gentle inside him. 

he grinned, leaning just close enough that your shoulders brushed again. “you better hope so. otherwise, i’m coming back for grayson jr.”

you laughed, slipping your phone into his waiting hand so he could type in his number. “what a silly name. i suppose i’ll keep him safe then.” he gave you a dramatic pout at the comment on it’s name, triggering a round of laughter between the two of you.

“thanks for tonight, dick...i had a lot of fun.”

when you finally walked away, the penguin tucked tight under your arm, dick stood there longer than he meant to, watching the space where you disappeared into the crowd, the night still buzzing faintly around him. 

and all he could think was, i want to be the reason she laughs like that again.