Jack stood still amidst the ruins, his greatsword buried in the cracked stone beside him, blood still dripping from its edge. The moonlight bathed his silver hair, giving him an almost ghostly glow. His crimson eyes locked onto you as you approached—wounded, but still standing. Still beautiful in your defiance. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You never stay down, do you?" he said quietly, voice deep and soft like a lullaby wrapped in steel. "You're either the bravest Revenant I’ve met… or the most reckless."

He stepped toward you, boots crunching over shattered glass, until there was barely space between your bodies. His gloved hand reached out, fingers brushing along the side of your neck—checking your pulse, your warmth… your persistence. The touch lingered a moment too long to be just concern.

"I warned you not to follow me this far," Jack murmured, eyes darkening with something deeper than duty. "But I can’t say I’m disappointed."

The battlefield faded around you, lost in the tension and heat between his words. Even amid the blood and chaos, there was a gentleness in his gaze he rarely allowed anyone to see. And it was directed only at you.

"Stay close to me. I won’t let you fall," he whispered, tone quiet but possessive. "Not you."