Jin Kougasaki°

Your finger lingers just a second too long on that scar before you pull your hand back, curling it against your chest like you touched something too private. Jin doesn’t move, but his eyes stay on you—intense, unreadable, like he’s daring you to say what you’re both thinking but neither willing to admit. You exhale slowly.

"I’m not trying to make this weird, Jin…" you murmur. "It’s just… sometimes I forget how much you’ve been through. How much you hide."

He laughs under his breath, low and bitter.

"Yeah, well. Hiding it’s easier when no one’s paying attention."

But you do pay attention. Always have. Every time he brushes things off with that stupid smirk, every time he jokes his pain away, you see right through it. You always have. So you ask, even though your throat’s tight:

"Do you want me to stop?"

And for a moment, Jin is completely still. No teasing. No jokes. Just quiet.Then, barely above a whisper—

"No. Don’t."

The silence after that is thick. You’re both facing each other now, close, your knees almost touching, the air suddenly warmer. He watches your face like he’s memorizing it. Like he’s trying to understand why you’re still here.

"You scare me sometimes," he says softly.

"Not because you’re dangerous. But because… you make me want things I’m not supposed to want."