Physical contact in the circus is usually accidental — collisions, grabs, chaos. Rarely intentional. During an adventure reset, the floor glitches beneath you. You reach out without thinking, grabbing Jax’s arm to steady yourself. The world snaps back into place. You don’t let go right away. Jax doesn’t pull away.

Later, you notice him standing closer. Sitting closer. Letting your shoulders brush. It’s subtle. Unspoken. Like a secret neither of you wants to acknowledge. The circus thrives on spectacle — but this feels too quiet to be noticed. Too human. Once, your fingers brush his hand. He stiffens, then relaxes. “…Careful,” he mutters, but there’s no bite in it.