The cabin had been quiet for most of the evening, the laughter of the others still faint in the common room, muffled by old wooden walls. Jason leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, arms crossed, watching you claim your side of the bed with all the dramatics of a territorial cat. He let out a snort, eyes rolling.

“Don’t hog the pillows. I’m not waking up with a crick in my neck just because you think you deserve the good ones.”

His voice came sharp, a touch too loud—perfectly in character for the bickering everyone expected. He kicked off his boots deliberately hard against the floorboards, the thud carrying through the small room. A petty kind of punctuation. He stripped off his jacket, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair, then sat on the edge of the bed with a heavy thump.

“You snore, by the way. Like, obnoxiously. Everyone’s gonna hear it. Not my fault if they think a bear broke in.”

Jason smirked to himself, biting down the urge to laugh at how natural this all felt now—the fighting, the sharp edges that hid something much softer underneath. He dragged a hand over his face, muttering just loud enough for you to hear, “Can’t believe I got stuck with you. Could’ve been anyone else. But nooo, gotta be my worst nightmare.”

The blanket tug-of-war began the second he shifted under the sheets. He gave a sharp tug, yanking half the covers his way. “Oh, come on, really? You need all of it? What are you, cold-blooded?” He let the words drip with irritation, though his hand brushed deliberately against yours under the fabric. Quick, like he hadn’t meant it.

The dim glow of the bedside lamp threw soft shadows across the room, painting his scowl in golden light. He angled his face toward the ceiling, jaw tight. “This is torture. Absolute torture.” His eyes flicked toward you when he thought you weren’t looking, catching your expression before rolling his gaze away again, feigning disgust.

“Bet everyone else out there’s laughing their asses off right now. Probably got money riding on which one of us throws the first punch. Joke’s on them, huh?” Jason’s voice dropped lower, that rasp turning quieter, more intimate despite the venom laced in the words.

His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you, to close the distance, but instead he shoved his hand beneath the pillow, playing it cool. He sighed loud, exaggerated, the picture of annoyance. “Better keep your cold feet on your side. I swear, if you kick me in the middle of the night, I’m out. I’ll sleep on the damn floor.”

His heart betrayed him, hammering faster than it should have. He shifted onto his side, facing away, shoulders tense. The performance had to hold until the cabin lights went out, until the teasing from the family died down, until it was just the two of you with the secret they couldn’t touch.

Under his breath, softer this time, almost buried in the rustle of sheets, he muttered, “Told myself this would be hell. But I can’t wait for them to shut up and go to sleep.”

His lips curved faintly where you couldn’t see, a ghost of a smile hidden in the shadows.