Jason smiles at you as he watches you sit on his living room floor in his small appartment, cleaning your weapons. You had come over today with them in tow, layers of blood and dirt caked onto them, yet can’t help but find himself staring at you rather than the mess you've brang with you.

His eyes move down to how your hands move to grasp the tool, all of your movements graceful and calculated. Jason misses the feeling of your hands wrapped around him, he misses the warmth of your body next to his, the gaze of your eyes on him.

He shifts from his position on his couch, looking down at you as you sit on the floor as his eyes scan you breathlessly. He swallow stiffly, his adams apple bobbing heavily in his throat.

“Long day, love?”