He can see the smile which graced her elegant features as he used the word, but the image is overshadowed now; curtained with her expression of psychotic devastation, upon realising that she did not wind the handle on the box enough. Eventually, that ballerina had to stop spinning. To her, that was a last chance at perfection. To him, it was the last drop of her sanity.
Adelaide and Tim are what is considered royalty, among their grade at Gotham Academy. Perfect couple, perfect personalities, perfect scores, perfect looks, perfect skill, perfect families, perfect reconciliation, perfect friends. Just, utterly, flawless.
It's so perfect, that it effortlessly hides the truth. Broken families, a superhero team, disorders, death, enemies, lies, illness, masks, hate and deep, dark secrets.
Only one of them understands that their unity is a front for what is really happening in the corners of sick minds.
But every time Tim looks at her and sees how scrambled her perception of herself is, he can't help but take her by the hand and try to guide her through everything.
When Adelaide looks at him, she doesn't understand why he's willing to settle for second or third best. He can outdo them all. The team, and his predecessors.
After all, he is perfect.... What a prize.
I do not own Young Justice. All rights go to the owners.