#halmari

Hal was heartbroken, and it didn’t help that everyone else in the league seemed to be in happy relationships. Even Batman and Superman had finally got together, and by the looks of how it was going, Hal knew he should be expecting a wedding invitation from Bruce sometime soon.

Hal felt like shit, finding himself more often than not, in his messy apartment living room, drinking a beer and watching some sports game he could care less about.

One night, as Hal got a beer out of the fridge and made his way back to the living room, he heard a knock on the door. He opened it slowly, not in the mood to deal with whoever was on the other side. Before he could tell the people to fuck off though, a figure larger than him pushes through him and into the living room, followed by another figure that was also taller than Hal.

He turned around to look at the men that walked in uninvited, to see Clark and Bruce wandering around his apartment.

“What the hell,” he yelled, watching as Bruce picked up an old shirt from the couch with index finger and thumb, his face full of disgust at how dirty the place was.

Hal snatched the article of clothing out of Bruce’s hand and glared at the man, which was returned with the full forced bat glare.

“Well Hal,” Clark started after a moment, causing Bruce and Hal to stop glaring at each other. “We noticed that you haven’t… exactly been yourself as of late, and we wanted to help you.” Clark gave Hal his usual happy smile, which was met with Hal’s risen eyebrow.

“Spooky wants to help me,” Hal asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Of course not, Jordan. I’m only helping you because Clark wants me to,” Bruce said. Hal looked over to where he was, only to see that Bruce had moved and was now going through Hal’s closet.

“The hell are you doing, Bruce,” he asked.

“Seeing if you have any nice suits. You’ll need it if you want to get in my gala.”

“Why would I be going to your gala?” But Hal already knew the answer to his question. Clark and Bruce were going to try and set him up on a date.

—

Hal regretted agreeing to their plan as soon after he had entered the manor doors. Everyone around him was old, rich, and snobby as fuck.

After spending two hours there, which halfway through Clark and Bruce left to do… somethings, Hal ended up leaving the place and made his way to the closest fast food place before he could get home. And lucky him, since it was the only place open, Hal ended up going to the closest Bat Burger.

As he got in line to order, the door opened again and revealed a beautiful woman, who seemed to be around his age. She was on the phone and seemed to be distressed.

“…No, no, no. You can’t pair green jeans with an orange shirt. Where the hell did you even get green jeans from Adrien,” she said, shaking her head. As Hal continued to listen in on her conversation- yes he knew that was wrong and a bit stalkerish, but just wanted to know who thought an orange shirt would go with green jeans- he almost missed his name being called to pick up his food, along with another name.

“Hal! Marinette!” Hal watches as the woman got up from where she was sitting at one of the tables, and moved to the counter where there were two bags and two drinks. He got up from where he was and walked behind her to get his food.

As she picked up her food, Hal guesses she must’ve been paying attention to her surroundings because the next thing he knew, her drink was spilled all over his suit.

‘Marinette’ ended the call she was on, and quickly started apologizing, taking some napkins off the counter next to them and trying to soak up as much of the drink she could off of the suit, but it was all in vain considering how soaked his undershirt was.

Hal took a step back and took the jacket off, but leaving the white shirt he was wearing off. He hung the jacket on a nearby chair and looked down to inspect the shirt. Hal couldn’t help but sigh, Bruce sure as hell wasn’t going to be happy with him.

“I am so sorry, monsieur,” she continued, still standing where she was. “I should’ve watched where I was going, and now I ruined your suit which considering it’s Armani, it must’ve cost a fortune,” She rambled, so Hal put his hands on her shoulders to try to calm her down.

“Calm down ms. It was just an accident. Besides, I’m borrowing it from a friend who can definitely afford dry cleaning,” he tries to reassure her, but it only seemed to panic her more.

“Mon Dieu,” and that all he hears before she goes rapid-fire in a language he didn’t understand.

Hal took his hands off her shoulders and put one over her mouth in an attempt to shut her up.

“Ma’am. Please calm down. This is no problem, and my friend whom I’m borrowing this suit, definitely deserved this,” Hal said, and slightly chuckling as her brows furrow in on the confusion. Taking his hand off her lips slowly, he explains, “My friend and his boyfriend were trying to set me up on a date with some snobby old people. So after they left, preassembly to fuck each other's brains out, I ditched the party and came here.”

“Snobby, old people,” she asked, tilting her head to the side, her bottom lip sticking out a bit, and Hal had the overwhelming urge to want to kiss the confusion off her lips. Which wasn’t really a surprise, as Hal did have a history of falling fast and falling hard.

“Um yeah,” he rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. “My friend was having some big yearly winter gala and thought it would be a good idea to invite me. After he realized I had no nice clothes, bar this one dress shirt,” he moves his hand's in a motion towards the shirt he was wearing, which was still soaked in whatever drink she had ordered. ‘Marinette’ speakers out another apology. “He told me I could wear one of his. When I got there, I didn’t really notice that everyone was a least fifteen years older than me. I actually didn’t notice until Bruce and Clark left.” He continues to talk, before pausing to find that she wasn’t listening anymore, instead of muttering to herself.

“Winter gala… Old… Rich… Clark… Bruce… BRUCE WAYNE,” She suddenly yelled out, before blushing at how loud she was.

Hal could see the dirty glare the cashier was giving them and moved to get his food from the counter and moving himself and ‘Marinette’ to a table near the back of the store, where no one could eavesdrop on their conversation without either of them noticing.

As they sat down, Hal noticed she was muttering to herself again, a small smile playing on her lips. She went on like that for a minute before saying out loud, probably more to herself than to him,” So that’s why he didn’t want me at the manor tonight.”

She turned towards him, her face no longer apologetic and a smug smile on her face. “What did you say your name was,” she asked.

“I didn’t say, but the name’s Hal. Hal Jordan. Yours is Marinette, right? That’s what the cashier called you.”

Marinette nodded as she stuck her hand out. “Marinette Wayne, a pleasure to meet you, Hal.” He shook her hand, his mind not picking up on her last name until a few moments later.

“Wayne,” he said in disbelief, before remembering something Bruce had told him a few years ago when they first started The justice league. Something about sisters and supervillains in Paris.

“You were the one in Paris, right?” Marinette nodded, but there was a look of surprise on her face.

“He’s talked about me,” she asked, and it looked like from where he was sitting she might be holding back tears.

“Umm… Once or twice, a few years back. I only remember something about a sister and some supervillain in Paris. I wasn’t really paying attention because I thought he was joking, but I know now that Bat- Bruce doesn’t joke.” She laughed a bit but didn’t empathize why she found it surprising that Bruce would talk about her. Instead, she took some fries out of her bag, ate a few before offering him some.

They moved away from the topic, and they talked for a bit longer and enjoyed each other company. After they finished their food, Hal walked her outside and asked if she had a ride.

“No, but I don’t live too far away, I could just walk,” Marinette said sheepishly, but Hal insisted on driving, stating that it was too dark out for her to walk alone to the manor.

She eventually agreed, and they made their way to the manor. Before she got out of his car, Marinette slipped a piece of paper in his hand and kissed his cheek, bidding him adieu, which he guessed meant bye.

As she walked through the manor doors, he looked down at the paper.

Coffee?

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx

MW