Jason sat on a stool in his dimly lit lab, a scowl plastered on his face as he stared at the half-eaten hamburger in his hands. He’d been trying to focus on anything other than you, but it was impossible with you across the room, tinkering with one of his gadgets like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Biting into his burger, ketchup squirted out and landed squarely on his dark green shirt. He groaned, glaring at the stain. “Of course. Just what I needed.”

You looked up, smirking. “Ketchup trouble?”

“Yeah, hilarious,” he muttered, grabbing a napkin.

Before he could clean it, you walked over and dabbed at the stain for him. Jason froze, his breath hitching at your closeness.

“There,” you said, stepping back. “Though you’re still in a mood.”

Jason hesitated, gripping the burger tightly. He wanted to tell you, to let it out. But instead, he just sighed. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

He hated himself for staying silent. Again.