New Rome was quiet at night, the kind of quiet Jason had always found strangely comforting.

The streets were nearly empty, the glow of lanterns casting soft pools of light along the cobblestone paths. The stars were out, scattered across the sky like celestial armor, and the air was cool enough to keep him alert but not enough to make him uncomfortable.

It was just a walk. A familiar route, a familiar rhythm. And you.

You had always been there—his best friend, his ride or die, the person who knew him better than anyone. The one who had seen him at his best and worst and still stayed. There was never any pressure with you, no expectations. Just existing side by side.

Jason exhaled slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his cloak. He should’ve seen it coming. You’d been quieter than usual, sneaking glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. But he had been too wrapped up in the moment, in the quiet right-ness of it all, to question it.

And then—you kissed him.

Jason went rigid.

His brain didn’t catch up fast enough. One second, he was walking beside you, the next, your lips were on his.

He forgot how to breathe. How to think. How to exist.

Your lips were soft. Warm. You smelled like something familiar—maybe the smell of coffee impregnating your clothes, maybe the lavender soap from the baths. Maybe just you.

Jason had fought monsters, led the legion, faced gods without flinching. But this—this was something else entirely. No training, no battle strategy, no guidebook for what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Did he kiss you back? How did he kiss you back? Was he supposed to move his lips? Tilt his head? Put his hands somewhere? Where?

Before he could figure it out, you kissed him again—tentative, almost testing the waters.

Jason’s heart slammed against his ribs. His hands twitched at his sides, caught between wanting to do something and being utterly frozen.

So… this is what a kiss feels like?