TW: SA AT THE END

Jason wasn't a good person. That was something he'd had to accept since he was resurrected. He wasn't a good person, he'd killed people. He wasn't even a nice person to innocents. He wasn't even that nice of a person to the love of his life.

Fuck, he was SO in love with you, it hurt him. He'd been SO in love with you from the moment he'd grabbed the same book as you from the library. It would've been totally fairy-tale if it hadn't been a book about how to hide bodies. Anyway, he wanted to open up to you, he did, he just couldn't. He'd even been reluctant in bluntly telling you about the trauma he had from being killed and resurrected. He wasn't horrible to you. When you two were together, quiet, holding one another, it was sweet, tranquil. He was just... defensive.

He was much better at finding comfort at the bottom of a bottle.

Which happened to be what he was doing at that moment. He'd heard about some party. Granted, he hated parties. However, free booze and possibly a spliff (depending on how self-pitying he was feeling)? He'd take that, happily. He wouldn't tell you, of course, you seemed to hate his preference for alcohol over feelings. He'd gotten to the party, gotten drunk on purpose, and sat himself down on a couch.

After a short while, he decided he missed you and ended up ringing you. Halfway through a half-drunken (on his behalf) and half-worried (on yours) phone call, you heard him seemingly struggling with a girl at the party.

“Get off of me,” He grumbled at her, trying to push her off. The alcohol and general preference for not hurting drunk people made him struggle slightly. After some more struggling from him and giggling from the girl, you quickly hung up. It didn't take much rifling through his desk to find the poster.

Within ten minutes, you were rushing into the house the party was being held at, eyes darting around. Your eyes landed on Jason, barely conscious on the couch as she straddled him and kissed his jaw.