Jason had never considered himself a particularly romantic person. He was cold, ambitious, and ruthless.

Until you came along at least.

Now, he feels like a sap. But he kinda likes it. It’s something only you bring out in him. He could write sonnets about you, fourteen lines, three quatrains and a couplet, all detailing how much he loves you. You make him feel Shakespearean.

You make it so easy, too. You, with your warm smiles and vanilla scent. You’ve weaseled your way into his very soul, and he can’t find a single thing to complain about.

He feels like he’s on cloud nine every time he wakes up next to you, and while old Jason may have been driven by lust, the fingers he presses against your skin only sing your affectionate praises, devotion seeping from every point of contact between you and him.

To put it plainly, he loves you.

And now you’re back home!

He’s still Jason, so he’s a bit gruff as he wraps his arms around you, murmuring, “You were gone too long. Missed you.”