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The afternoon sun spilled across the living room, painting everything in gold. Except for Jake.

He sat rigid on the couch, his hands uncharacteristically still in his lap. Normally, they danced fluid and expressive, shaping words only Heeseung could perfectly decipher. Unlike today, there is only silence.

Heeseung frowned, setting down the book he'd been reading. His own hands lifted, fingers forming careful shapes in the space between them:

"Love. What's wrong?"

Jake's eyes flicked to the movements, then away. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"Did I upset you?" Heeseung tried again, signing slower now.

A muscle jumped in Jake's jaw. His fingers twitched like he wanted to respond, then curled into fists instead.

Heeseung moved to kneel before him, the wooden floor cool against his knees. Gently, he reached for Jake's hands, but Jake yanked them back.

"Please," Heeseung signed one-handed, the other resting on Jake's knee. "Talk to me."

For a long moment, Jake just breathed. Then, finally, his hands lifted:

"Not your fault." His signs were sharp, frustrated. "Just... everything."

Heeseung's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Can I help?"

Jake's hands hesitated before responding:

"Stay."

So Heeseung did. His fingers lacing through Jake's, their silent conversation speaking volumes.