#garth dc

Adventure Comics #270: The Menace of Aqualad!

garth knows knocking isn't an option, he learned that long ago when it came to your household, but the thought of leaving you alone after your text didn't even cross his mind.

one minute your room is four walls, the sound of your laptop fan about to take off from overheating, and the muffled sound of your mom on the phone downstairs, twisting some story about your attitude because she couldn't possibly be in the wrong. the next, there's the soft sound of your window being pushed up and a gust of cold winter air as garth is sliding himself through the opening, and you're clearly too used the routine as you barely even flinch. definitely not because you had more self deprecating thoughts on what or who it could be.

"first of all," garth begins, the heel of his palm pushing the window back down, pushing the little sliding locks into place, "you are not leaving that unlocked anymore." he attempts to joke, trying for a grin but it doesn't make it when he finally looks at you. you, who is curled up on your side, eyes a little puffy, nose red from rubbing, looking like you've fully given up on even existing anymore.

he doesn't hesitate to drop onto your bed, one leg bent up before he leans, ducking his head to get into your line of sight, nudging your phone away. "hey, sweetheart.. look at me?" his voice is soft, that same one he uses when he's coaxing you into trying new things on a menu or getting your attention off something making you anxious.

you don't look up right away, you can't, because you know the moment you see him there's a chance you'll start crying all over again - thankfully, he is patient. eventually, with a sigh, your gaze shifts and you glance at him, earning an exhale that sounds like he hadn't let out a single breath the whole time.

"there you are," he mumbles, hands raising to brush your hair back before settling at your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek. "i'm not here for explanations, okay? i don't need to hear about what was said, what was done, how the day fell apart, none of it if you don't feel like talking about it," he shifts forward, leaning to nudge his nose against your temple, "i just need you to know i'm here, not going anywhere. getting a text that says 'im tired of life' in the middle of the night is a blaring emergency to me."

you don't say anything, just sniffle, giving a tiny nod just for the sake of letting him know you're listening. he accepts, finally sliding to fully stretch the length of your bed, not bothering to make a fuss as he tugs you into him, hand cradling the back of your head, letting you hide against his nose crumbled hoodie. he frowns to himself feeling the way your fingers curl into the material, his hold on your tightening just a little more. "if i could stop it, i would," he whispers, tilting his head to press his nose to your crown, "but, for tonight, let her yell and let the world suck for a bit, because you get me until the sun's up. stupid hoodie, no phone, and as much breathing without tears as we can manage."

lunch hour