“The hell?” Jude scoffs, looking at you, the party decorations in his warehouse and then back down at the letter in his hands which reads, Happy Birthday, we have your woman. Meet us at your warehouse at midnight.

Jude’s birthday is a sore spot for him, or at least a day he doesn’t care much about celebrating. He flat out refuses to let the rest of crown celebrate it but it seems you had other plans. Despite his initial irritation, he’s just glad you’re safe.

“You’re sick, if this is your idea of a prank!” Now that he looks closer at the handwriting, it does look like something you’d write. He clears his throat, unable to hide the slight redness of his ears. “Whatever… don’t you dare start singin’! I already see ya gearin’ up.”