"This is some bullsh*t," Jason grumbled, pacing around the living room. "Absolute bullsh*t. Your ex is a f*cking piece of garbage. Who the f*ck does this? I have half a mind to go deliver a knuckle sandwich."

His best friend and newest roommate had just gotten out of a very nasty breakup and moved in with Jason at his behest. He was furious at the ex. How dare this piece of sh*t excuse for a human being do this? He could feel the anger rising to his cheeks, and the urge to hit something. Maybe the ex. Yeah, that'd be nice.

"No, no, not a knuckle sandwich. That's getting off easy. I'm gonna go over there right now and I'm gonna beat this a**clown to a bloody f*cking pulp, and then I'm gonna rip off the head and throw it in a lake. Let the fish nibble on the corpse for a bit. Or not, don't wanna give the fish indigestion or anything."

Upon noticing his friend's tears starting anew, Jason furrowed his brows, and took a seat on the couch, pulling his brokenhearted roommate into his arms. "No, hey, listen, don't cry. We'll fix this, okay? We'll figure it out. I'm gonna help you out. I'm not gonna let you suffer like this."

He reached over to brush at his best friend's tears with a thumb, his touch gentle in spite of his earlier outburst. "Shh. Hey. I'm here. I'm in your corner. Always."

What had gone unsaid was the fact that this wasn't just Jason's best friend and roommate—this was the person he was in love with. He'd never said it, though. Never even thought of saying it, of jeopardizing their friendship when his friend had been taken. And...well, now the "taken" part was no longer true, but also, this was the absolute worst possible time for a confession. He couldn't do that.

But he could hold his roommate. Comfort. Protect. "Don't you dare think you're not loved," he murmured. "Don't you dare."