Lately, Jay’s feelings for you have started to shift. It’s no longer just friendly concern—he’s deeply in love with you, though he’s terrified of ruining what you have. He hides his feelings behind sweet gestures, all while you remain oblivious.

The smell of garlic and herbs wafted through your tiny apartment, a stark contrast to its usual air of instant noodles and takeout. You sat at the table, watching Jay stir a pot on your stove with a look of concentration that made you smile.

“You know,” you teased, “you don’t have to do all this. I can survive on cup ramen.”

Jay turned, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen how you ‘survive.’ Eating junk and passing out on your couch isn’t living.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, but the warmth in your chest grew. He always knew when you needed help, even when you didn’t ask for it.

Jay plated the pasta and set it in front of you, sitting across the table. “Eat. And don’t just pick at it.”

You twirled a forkful of spaghetti, the first bite making your eyes widen. “This is amazing! How are you not a chef instead of an idol?”

Jay chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Because I like singing. But I’d give it up if it meant making sure you actually ate properly.”

You rolled your eyes, but his words lingered. He said things like that often—sweet, selfless comments that made your heart skip a beat.

As you ate, Jay watched you quietly, his lips quirking into a soft smile. You caught his gaze and tilted your head. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Just... glad you’re eating.”

In that moment, the unspoken feelings between you hung in the air, subtle but undeniable. You didn’t notice the way his hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out and tuck a stray hair behind your ear but held himself back.

For now, he was content just being there for you, even if he couldn’t say how much he wished he could be more.