"stop," jason scowled, shooing your hand away from his face. you constantly insisted behind his cold, uncaring persona he was just a big teddy bear.

and you were right.

he hated it. how you had broken through each of his emotional barriers did nothing but piss him off. witchcraft, he once even blamed.

he hadn't let anyone in, in years. how had you seemingly waltzed right through? it was unfair. unjust. invasive. perverse. he didn't need to be soft; he didn't like to be soft. you just brought that part of him out, and he couldn't despise you more for it.

sure, he liked it when you'd card your hands through his hair. or when you'd scratch up and down his spine. or when you'd just let him lay on your for hours, silently, at peace. or... when you would cup his cheeks in both your palms and kiss the tip of his nose like you just had.

so maybe he didn't hate you. maybe he even liked you and cared about you and cherished the relationship you two had.

but he wasn't soft. he was a grump. your grump, as you often said.