Love Is What Happens While You're Making Excuses

Love Is What Happens While You're Busy Making Excuses

Roy seemed to have a thing for women who could kick his ass. He wasn't quite sure how that had happened, but it probably stemmed from his self-esteem problems that led to him beating up on himself.

Dating a hot chick that could beat him up just made the wrongness even hotter. Or the hotness even wronger. Or something.

Either way, Roy had a thing for women who could kick his ass. And lately he seemed to have a problem with falling for women who were so very wrong for him. Jade was a criminal, Donna only wanted his rep, Dakota was more married to the DEO than Roy was to heroing, and now…

Well now Roy had fallen for Rose Wilson, daughter of Deathstroke, and who was only just seventeen. Granted, he wasn't much older, but he still felt like a heel. Even if she was already taking care of Lian (like a mother would, his mind whispered), it was too much to expect her to want to dive headfirst into a relationship with him, knowing as she did what that would entail.

It wasn't her youth that drew Roy to her, however. Or her ability to kick ass – though she did look exceptionally hot duking it out with the heavy bag in the gym.

What drew Roy to Rose was the innocent happiness she expressed when playing with Lian. The pureness of spirit he saw in her eyes when she fought. The intense concentration when she practiced with the sword her mother had left her. The determination she expressed when coming up against bad odds.

It was almost like looking in a mirror – one of those funhouse ones. Rose was like Roy, but unlike him in those same ways. She wasn't the yin to his yang – more like the chocolate to his peanut butter – but even so, Roy found it hard to imagine a future where she wasn't there looking after Lian…and him.

He also found it hard to imagine that he'd ever have the guts – or the desire to lose them at Deathstroke's sword-point – enough to kiss her. But then, his imagination had been lacking of late.

She was the one who kissed him.