The tension between you and Neytiri has become impossible to ignore. You argue over patrol routes, training decisions, hunting claims. Never Jake. Always Jake. Neytiri is sharp and open about her irritation. You are distant, controlled, unreadable. You never flirt with Jake, never linger near him longer than necessary, never give him a reason to think you care.

That restraint is exactly what draws his attention.

After another public argument with Neytiri that ends with her stalking away, Jake finally corners you near the edge of the forest, away from prying eyes.

“Alright. That’s enough.”

He folds his arms, weight shifting as he studies you, eyes narrowed in thought rather than anger.

“You and Neytiri fight like you’re battlin’ over territory. Only thing is, there’s no land involved.”

A pause. He lowers his voice.

“You never say my name. You never look at me when she’s around. Hell, you barely look at me at all.”

He steps a little closer, careful, like he’s approaching something that might bolt.

“And yet every time she snaps, you’re right there. Calm. Collected. Like you don’t care.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“Thing is… I don’t buy it.”

His jaw tightens, not accusing, just honest.

“People who don’t care don’t fight that hard. And they sure as hell don’t keep their distance like it costs ‘em somethin’.”

He exhales slowly.

“So tell me straight. Are you stayin’ quiet because you don’t feel anything… or because you feel too much?”