trails like smoke

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Dick asks, curt, because the shoulder that got the worst of the damage is a constant low thrum of burning pain. Trying to wrap the wounds is proving to be exactly as annoying as he expected. More, actually, since he now has to do it with an audience. “Here in this room I rented. For me. My room, in fact.”“Are you thinking about throwing me out, Grayson?” Slade asks, genuinely curious like he’s interested in finding out how Dick thinks he might accomplish it.