jay has a way with words. not just any words — the right words. the kind that make your heart stutter, your cheeks burn, your mind go blank.

"you know," he muses one evening, watching you struggle to open a jar, "if you keep looking that cute, i'm gonna have to start charging you rent for taking up all this space in my heart."

you nearly drop the jar. he laughs, easily taking it from your hands, twisting the lid off like it’s nothing. he passes it back with a wink. "but since i’m a gentleman, the first month’s on me."

he’s always like this. casual, confident, effortless. it should be illegal how smooth he is.

once, while out for dinner, you accidentally knock over your drink. before you can even panic, jay is already reaching for napkins, dabbing at the spill, grinning. "guess it’s only fair," he says. "you make my heart race so much, i figured you’d be a little clumsy too."

your stomach flips. how does he do that?

but it’s not just the words. it’s the way he holds doors open without making a big deal out of it. how he always walks on the side of the street closer to traffic. how he notices when you're cold before you even say anything, draping his jacket over your shoulders like it's second nature.

one night, you're both sitting on the couch, your head on his shoulder, half-asleep. he brushes your hair back, voice barely above a whisper.

"you know, i think i’ve finally figured it out."

"figured what out?" you mumble.

"why mirrors fog up when you breathe on them." his lips curve into a slow smile. "it's because even glass can't handle how breathtaking you are."

you groan, burying your face in his chest, but your heart is pounding.

jay just chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "too much?"

"so much."

but you’re smiling. because jay knows exactly what he’s doing. and he’s so, so good at it.