Jason was sitting and thinking. As always. Nothing new, just the same old routine on the Argo II. The days seemed to stretch longer as the months passed, filled with the thrill of adventures but also too much time on the ship. When another wave of worries threatened to consume his thoughts, a familiar groan echoed from another room.

She’s doing it again, he thought, rolling his eyes.

His suspicions were confirmed when he stepped into your shared cabin. The room was cozy despite the chaos that came with life aboard the Argo II. The one thing that didn’t belong in the room but somehow made it all the more yours was the mirror. The gilded one you’d stolen in Italy after a particularly tricky quest.

And there you were, standing next to it.

Jason sighed. You weren’t even a daughter of Aphrodite, for gods’ sake, but every time you were near a mirror, you did the same thing. Picking at your skin. He’d caught you doing it so often, and honestly? It drove him insane.

Keeping good hygiene on the ship wasn’t exactly easy, not when most of your time was spent fighting monsters or navigating storms. So your face was dotted with pimples, and Jason knew how much you hated it. All he wanted to do was rip that stupid mirror out of your pretty hands and scream at you. How absolutely perfect you already were, how you didn’t need to care about those tiny things.

But he couldn’t.

“She’s just my best friend,” he constantly reminded himself. The words felt less convincing every time he said them, but he kept saying them anyway.

You didn’t even stop when you noticed him in the room, your fingers still trailing across your skin. Jason didn’t think much—it just happened.

Before he knew it, he was pressing up against you from behind, his larger frame towering over yours as he grabbed at the mirror. “Give it to me. Now,” he said, his voice firm. “I’m not kidding. You are already perfect!”