not deaths bitch | jason todd

[xii]

[ twelve : I'm sorry ]

ALTHOUGH SHE KNEW DICK DIDN'T MEAN his words, she felt scared to go back to Wayne Manor. She also felt embarrassed for punching him so hard, after all the years Bruce had taught her to control her actions.
"So its a date?" Jack Daniels snapped her out of her train of thought, she nodded, slurping up the last of the cocktail.
"See you at nine-thirty!" With those final words she waved goodbye to the boy and called Alfred.

A deadly silence lingered in the black limousine. She knew Alfred had been informed on the little argument her at Dick had gotten themselves into and didn't want to bring anything up to upset her.
"I'll might be needing another ride later tonight." Anastasia stated rolling down her window to feel the Gotham breeze. In his reflection she saw him nod. "Just say when, Miss Tasi,"

"Actually can you dropped me off down town?" He nodded and pulled over and asked; "will you need to be picked up?"

Tasi shook her head, "no, I'll walk." After she closed the door the butler drove off and Tasi was left with the eerie view that was Gotham City. There was a flower boutique just sown the street from the Gotham City Bank that had provided the flowers at Jason's funeral.

The small bell on top of the door rung as Anastasia walked through. A familiar face sat at the counter, Tyson Beaker, the son of Chris Breaker, the original owner of "Emily's Boutique" before he died and it was passed to his children.

His eyes squinted, "Tass?" She frowned, she should have know better than coming to that flower store.

She looked at Tyson unable to answer. She tried her best to look confused and surprising it worked on him.

"No, I'm Jazmine." He sighed and walked out from behind the counter.

"Sorry, Miss," he trailed off, "you just reminded me of an old friend." It hurt her not being able to talk to him, Tyson was a sweet boy with a good heart.

She desperately wanted to ask him how his sister was, the young girl had been mid chemo therapy when she first met Ty.

"What can u help you with?" He placed his hands on his hips, "a special occasion?"

Anastasia shook her head, frowning, "no an anniversary of a friends death."

Tyson's face looked guilty, "oh, I'm sorry for your loss." He seemed compassionate, they stood in silence before he walked over to a bouquet of roses.

"Will these do?" He picked them out. Anastasia nodded, "those are perfect. Thanks." He waved it off, "don't worry about it." As he wrapped them up in a white paper she let an a-hundred dollar bill on the counter and dashed out.

She was on her way to her old lovers grave.