[ To her, he was once the same as any other. A recipient of a contract that he didn't read the fine print on. The writings on the wall. The distaste for life. The lament of what was unfair, desperate to selfishly undo what was done to her. A foolish girl, through and through, no matter the façade of a witch. Jason acts in a way she would dub foolish too, so two fools in a bath tub with pizza growing room temp feet away was just – fitting, wasn't it? For all the walls she builds up, she sinks further back into him – her backside snug between his legs and pressing into any part she can, her thighs spreading to open his up further.

Diligent fingers were not put to waste. They bring pleasure instead of pain, a closeness to make her ache and want more. When he finds a spot that really hits her core, her hand lingers instead of guides. He's learned – but then again, he's definitely adapted to handling the mysterious woman who was more likely to kick him to the couch to steal his bed than initiate this.

But, they're doing this now. They're committing to something that words don't need to explain. ]

Jason.

[ Sharp, he consumes her. Exhaling with a quiver past her lips – that mass of green hair presses back further into him and her head tilts. The way he nuzzles her, close to a kiss but afraid to commit. She was too. ]

Not now. Talk about what I am to you another time. I can't take your fingers and your heart at the same time. [ Is she incapable? Is she calling a bluff she'll lose? The words she whispers to them were partnered with a series of whimpers, childish in their own pitchy way – a reveal that was almost unfitting for an old witch like her.

But, if anything... it's proof he proves he's enough too – to crack that mask. ] If you have any sense to you, you'll keep going until I deem otherwise.