The microwave dings as my hot water for tea finishes heating up. I take out the mug carefully and place my tea bag in, stirring in honey as it steeps. I force my bruised body to move to the living room, shuffling my tired and chilly bare feet onto the carpet. My muscles ache from the battering I took today in combat, which makes my humble couch look like a luxurious, four-poster canopy bed made for a queen. As I sit down, I notice my calendar on the wall, which has yet to be flipped to the correct month. That's right. It's December 1st, I think. My heart suddenly feels heavy. I look down and see the sadness that has settled on my face in the amber colored reflection of my tea. My hands tighten around my warm mug and I breath in the sweet scent rising out of it, hoping to ground myself. Stop getting so emotional, this is stupid. My mind drifts anyhow.

There are days when I wonder why I loved him so much, and what made him so special. I am quickly able to remember many reasons why, but there is one in particular that I always counted on. Perhaps I took it for granted. I sit here on my couch and feel my usual unexplainable feeling of melancholy, and just wanting to feel encouraged, I rack my brain to try to think of friends whose conversation might make me feel better, but I realize that there's no one who can quite take the edge off. But there used to be someone…didn't there? Right…he could. He's the only one. He had this uncanny ability to instantly make me feel better about anything, encourage me, and then make me laugh and smile till I forgot I was sad in the first place. How did he do that? How come no one else can do that? He even made my anxiety go away.

He taught and gave me so much. Confidence to be my unique self. A sense of self-worth and respect. He helped me deal with all my grief and regret about losing my father to Nabu. He encouraged me through many hard seasons, including several close brushes with death. He made me laugh like NO ONE else had or has yet. A million inside jokes. He helped me make better friends with the rest of the team, which led to me joining the team and growing in my powers. He showed me how fascinating and thrilling acrobatics and gymnastics are, and even trained me some. I learned how to deal with truly awkward people. Nobody will ever be more awkward than him, I think, laughing as I remember watching his confident, flirty demeanor crumble like sand when he was around me alone. He showed me how a girl should really be treated by a man. He taught me that it's nice spending time alone and in silence. He gave me a lifetime of endearing and hilarious moments that he fit into a few years.

He showed me what it feels like to truly love someone and how to know if you want to spend the rest of your life with them.

The time without him feels almost as long as the time I had with him, but it's only been five months. Maybe it feels like it's been so long because I have no idea where he is or what he's doing or if he's okay? Even though every day his departure stings a little less, I can't help but worry. I still remember everything he did for me and everything he was to me. I will always remember the night I realized I loved him. I will always remember him singing songs to me or doing tricks for me to cheer me up. I will remember how ridiculously goofy he was, and simultaneously how serious and emotionally deep he was. We were kindred souls, undoubtedly. I will remember how he made my heart race and my hands shake, but made my mind settle and my soul feel content.

I miss him so much.

I still don't fully understand what happened. He was the level-headed type, or so I thought. Maybe I don't know him as well as I thought I did. Even though we weren't together anymore, we were still on good terms. I…I thought that there may have been hope for an us in the future when things weren't so complicated. But then…he just left. So quickly, like the mysterious, stealthy dark symbol he hides behind. He left, wrenching my heart out and taking it with him…. I hope he knows he's still holding a piece of it.

I hope he is well, and that he is happy and has dealt with his grief.

I love you, Dick Grayson. Happy 20th birthday.

"Zatanna, I'm so sorry."

His chin rests on the top of my head as he wraps his arms around me. I bury my face in his chest and hug him back. He was finally back.

'This isn't real. It's just a dream,' I think. I feel confused and sad. It feels so real.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

'What? What was that?' I try to ignore it and lean into the figure embracing me, but he feels…less tangible.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

'I know it's not real! Just let me enjoy it! It's all I have left of him!'

Bang! Bang! Ban-

I gasp for air as I thrust myself into a sitting position, my eyes flying open. Where am I? I look around and realize I fell asleep on my couch. My tea, half-drunk, cold, and abandoned, sits on the coffee table next to me. Why do I keep having that dream of him? It's so stupid. He's just a guy. Just forget about him and move on Zee!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I jump and my eyes flit to the door. I stand up as slowly and quietly as I can, my muscles still protesting from my injuries. I breathe a deep, silent breath in preparation before I open the door. My deep breath hadn't been enough. My breathing stops altogether as I make out the figure standing outside my door.

"Dick?" I whisper, though not because I'm attempting to be quiet. I can barely breathe, let alone support a regular word.

He stands there, an ashamed look on his defined face. His eyes are narrowed and flitting back and forth, not able to look at me for long. His mouth is pressed into a firm line, and his jaw working visibly. Finally, his restless eyes settle on me, and his expression changes to one of concern.

"Zee, you've been crying. Are you okay?" He says, reaching out his hand in the direction of my face.

I suddenly become aware that I had been crying from my dream. I hastily back away from his hand and swipe at my cheeks harshly with the insides of my wrists. His hand is still paused in the air and a look of alarm flashes across his face like he hadn't even meant to reach out to me. He draws his hand back and runs it through his hair while his other hand grasps the doorframe. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn't. After staring at him in my door for a minute, the shock wears off and questions begin to flood my mind.

"What are you doing here?" Is the first thing I can think to ask him. He continues to stare at the floor for a few more seconds in silence before finally looking up at me.

"I'm done running away," he says, stepping across the threshold of the door and standing to his full height with new confidence. "I needed to see you Zatanna."

A/N

Hello lovely friends! I have come up out of my crusty, dusty coffin and risen from the dead! Haha, yeah it's been like, about 4 whole years since I last wrote for Fanfiction. That's what happens when you become and adult and go to college I guess.

I started re-watching Young Justice lately, and let's just say, Nightwing/Dick Grayson...mmmm, love that man. He's amazing. And I decided to jump onto the first visible ship (obviously RobinXZatanna), so here I am.

I plan on doing 1 or 2 more chapters to this short story. To clarify, this takes place 5 months after Nightwing told Aqualad that he needed a break. I shan't go into more details of the background of the story, so as not to spoil anything in future chapters! I actually got the inspiration to write this story from a personal journal entry about an old boyfriend of mine. There are parts of this chapter that has verbatim my journal entry. Personally, I love turning my own experiences/journal entries into Fanfiction. I get to do something entirely new with it and make it a happy ending.

Anyway, I'm so glad you stumbled upon this story! If you're an old follower/reader of mine, thanks for checking it out! I plan on sifting through all my old stories and either burning some or dusting them off and refurbishing them lol. That also applies to my profile page. So much to cringe at.

Love you all!

~ Annanarra