Lux doesn't have a watch. She'd not been wearing one the day she turned up, fresh from a midnight swim, and she doesn't know what time it is aside from that it's late
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Jason's head feels full, sore in a way that's not a headache but a bone deep one, too many wretched thoughts bouncing against his skull and making his old scar sing in sympathy.
He'd trailed them, Boyd and the cowboy, followed them to the Compound to make sure that Boyd was safely deposited, and he's been wandering ever since, tired and miserable in a way he can only associate with being dumb enough to give a fuck.
He ought to be grateful that he hadn't had to put Boyd down, and he is, but there's a whole ocean of rage in Jason's gut that needs to be burned through before he can feel the relief, and he swallows down every ounce of it at the sight of a blonde head in front of him.
It's late. Way too late for a girl to be wandering, in the city or the jungle or anywhere else. Jason stops and eyes her, wondering how the hell he's going to call attention to himself without her chewing him a new one again.
Finally he frowns, jogging a few silent steps closer and calling as soft as he knows how, "Lux."
The voice sounds so close out of the darkness that Lux startles nonetheless, but the jump of her heart settles easily enough when she can sketch the familiar shape of Jason from the shadows.
"Oh," she says, almost mildly. "Hey," as if there's anything remotely normal about this, happening to meet someone in the middle of the jungle in the dark. She wonders, briefly and to her own amusement, whether he lives in the trees.
"Past midnight," Jason says, louder now that he's sure he won't be sorry for it, and steps nimbly over the roots of the trees to join her. He can feel his mouth pulling down, and not for the first time Jason regrets growing so dependent on the helmet to hide his face from sight. Discipline, Bruce would say, long ago when Jason had worn the domino, and he resolves to relearn it.
"I was going home," Lux tries with a non-committal sweep of her hand toward the trees, although she has absolutely no idea whether that's even the correct direction. "I'm drunk," she admits, a better explanation than the first, if probably less likely to remove that look from his face.
"Why are you out here?" she asks in turn, hands falling to her hips, blonde hair tossed back over her bare shoulders.
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He'd trailed them, Boyd and the cowboy, followed them to the Compound to make sure that Boyd was safely deposited, and he's been wandering ever since, tired and miserable in a way he can only associate with being dumb enough to give a fuck.
He ought to be grateful that he hadn't had to put Boyd down, and he is, but there's a whole ocean of rage in Jason's gut that needs to be burned through before he can feel the relief, and he swallows down every ounce of it at the sight of a blonde head in front of him.
It's late. Way too late for a girl to be wandering, in the city or the jungle or anywhere else. Jason stops and eyes her, wondering how the hell he's going to call attention to himself without her chewing him a new one again.
Finally he frowns, jogging a few silent steps closer and calling as soft as he knows how, "Lux."
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"Oh," she says, almost mildly. "Hey," as if there's anything remotely normal about this, happening to meet someone in the middle of the jungle in the dark. She wonders, briefly and to her own amusement, whether he lives in the trees.
"Do you know what time it is?"
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"Why are you out here?"
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"Why are you out here?" she asks in turn, hands falling to her hips, blonde hair tossed back over her bare shoulders.
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