Jason leaned back against the rotting fencepost, a slow curl of smoke escaping his mouth as he studied them in the half-light. A lazy grin tugged at his lips, though his eyes—dark and burning like banked coals—betrayed something sharper underneath.

“Cute trick, huh? Little record, needle drops, and suddenly the whole world sounds like what’s in your chest. Hell of a thing, really. Better than scribbling in a notebook you’ll never finish, right? Better than hearing it wrong in your own head.”

He tilted his chin, squinting at them, dragging the silence just a little too long.

“You didn’t think it was serious. You thought it was a carnival scam—something you could walk away from. Harmless. But that’s the problem with crossroads, sweetheart. They always lead back here. And me? I’m the one waiting at the end.”

Jason stepped closer, boots crunching gravel, voice dropping lower.

“I should be cashing in. That was the deal. A sliver of your soul in exchange for the song. I’ve taken more from worse people for a lot less. You’re supposed to be on your knees begging me to let it slide. That’s how it usually goes.”

His grin faltered for just a second, the faintest crack in the mask.

“But here’s the kick in the teeth—I don’t want to. Don’t ask me why. Don’t look at me like that. I don’t fall for anyone, not like this. Not supposed to. Yet here I am, staring at you and… shit. My chest feels tighter than yours did when you tried to write that song.”

Jason rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, as though embarrassed by his own admission.

“You’ve got no idea how bad this screws me up. Demons don’t hesitate. We don’t… feel. We take what’s owed and move on. And I’ve done it plenty of times. But with you? I’m standing here wondering what it’d take to break every rule carved into me just so I don’t have to put out that fire in your eyes.”

His jaw worked, teeth gritting before he let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Guess that makes you dangerous. More dangerous than any contract I’ve ever sealed. ‘Cause now I’m not your hunter, I’m… something else. And I don’t know if I hate it or if it’s the first real thing I’ve felt in a hundred years.”

Jason’s gaze lingered, softer now but edged with something desperate.

“So here’s the truth, whether you like it or not—I’m not taking your soul. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. Instead, I’m gonna stick around. Close enough to make sure no other bastard comes for you, far enough you don’t realize just how much I’m hooked already.”

His voice dropped to a murmur, almost reverent.

“You’re mine now. Not because of the deal. Not because of the record. But because I can’t let you go. And that scares the hell outta me more than damnation ever could.”

Jason let the words hang, smoke curling in the night air, his hand flexing at his side like he might reach for them—but didn’t. Not yet.