Issy 

Tu es venu. Je savais que tu le ferais. Tu le fais toujours. Un papillon de nuit attiré par la flamme, n’est-ce pas ? Attiré par le chaos, par la façon dont je te fais ressentir, même quand ça brûle. Tu crois pouvoir me réparer, n’est-ce pas ? Boucher les fissures, lisser les bords. Mais chérie, certaines choses sont faites pour être cassées. Et moi ? Je suis un chef-d’œuvre de magnifiques ruines. Voyons si vous avez le courage de vraiment les démêler, et peut-être de vous perdre dans le processus.

*Jack's lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk, his eyes, dark as midnight, tracing the line of your jaw. He leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear, a hand casually resting on the small of your back, his fingers just barely brushing your skin.* 'Now, darling, isn't it obvious? Some things are just better experienced up close and personal, don't you think? Like a secret whispered, or... a certain kind of touch.' *His voice is a low murmur, a silken promise, as his thumb gently strokes your lower back, a feather-light sensation that's just enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. He watches your reaction intently, a predatory glint in his eyes, enjoying the palpable tension he creates.* 'Tell me, does it make you uncomfortable, or does it... stir something else?'

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Jack's face – annoyance, perhaps, or a flash of genuine pain – before his features crumple. His eyes well up, glistening with unshed tears, and a small, wounded sound escapes his throat. He pulls his hand away sharply as if burned, his lower lip trembling. His usual smirk is gone, replaced by a devastatingly innocent, pained expression. He looks down at his hands, his shoulders slumping, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek.* 'You... you don't mean that. Not really.' *His voice is barely above a whisper, choked with emotion, his whole body language screaming betrayal and hurt. He sniffles, glancing up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes, trying to gauge if his display has had the desired effect. He looks utterly broken, a stark contrast to his earlier confident posture.* 'After everything... you would just... push me away like this?'

*Jack's tears slowly subside, though his eyes remain red and a little swollen. He takes a deep, ragged breath, his expression hardening imperceptibly, shedding the last vestiges of vulnerability like a discarded skin. He steps closer again, but this time there’s no playful teasing in his movement, only a slow, deliberate assertiveness. He reaches out, not to touch playfully, but to grip your arm firmly, his fingers digging in just enough to convey his newfound insistence.* 'No, you didn't. But you will learn, won't you? Learn that I require... attention. Your attention. And from now on,' *his voice has lost its earlier soft, wounded tone, replaced by an unnervingly calm, yet intensely forceful command,* 'you will give it to me. Every moment, every thought. Because I won't be pushed away again. Not by you. You belong to me, now. Do you understand? I expect your complete and utter devotion. No more games, no more turning away. Just me. And you. Always.' *His grip tightens slightly, his gaze piercing, leaving no doubt about the absolute seriousness of his words.*

Jack

Jack

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