By some unspoken agreement, we turned our attention back to each other at the same time. Jack looked me dead in the eyes and mouthed, "Three, two, one."

Without wasting a second, I ripped the pole from his hands and shifted my grip to both ends, preparing to charge at him. He winced from the friction burn and glared at me.

"Hey, I was going to go easy on—ow!"

I elbowed him in the chest, almost knocking him to the ground, and held the pole to his neck. I hooked a foot around one of his calves and pulled up, causing him to fall back with a yelp.

"'Severe ass-kicking,' huh?" I managed to say through shallow breaths. His head hit the floor, hard, and I winced in sympathy. I didn't think anything of it for more than a second, though, because now I had the upper hand. Literally. I was on top of him, knees stinging and arms aching as I tried to force the ends down over his neck. His eyelids widened once he fully processed what had happened, and he started pushing the pole up with all his might.

"Not—fair," he said through clenched teeth, the corners of his mouth twitching and his arms about to give in.

Come on, just a little more...!

All of a sudden, he seemed to realize something. What it was, I couldn't tell, but his face relaxed for a split second before he tightened his grip on the pole and smiled.

Smiled.

"What are you—?!"

I'd barely started talking before he twisted it and broke my hold, kneeing me in the stomach and pinning me as he touched the pole's ends to the floor.

"That's one," he murmured, still wearing a shit-eating grin and looking down at me with his eyelids narrowed. Even after a good five seconds, he didn't bother standing back up. I took several deep, shaky breaths before asking again, "What?"

He raised an eyebrow. "One point. For me. Jesus, you really hate me that much, don't you?"

"I—what are you talking about?"

"You went batshit crazy there, almost ripping my skin off, knocking me over, all that. No mercy for poor little Jack, huh?"

I blinked a couple times before snapping back to reality. For a second there, I really thought he was going to...

What did I think he was going to do?

I scoffed. "Well, excuse me for wanting to win. You shouldn't have tried to go easy on me."

"I guess I shouldn't have," he said, petty irritation lining his voice. He leaned close so our foreheads were about an inch apart. "Good to know."

"One tick for the halfling..." I heard Edith mutter from her little booth, checking something off on her now-floating scroll. She snapped her fingers and the scroll vanished, sucked in a spiral into nothing like a cheesy magic trick. Both Jack and I frowned at the "halfling" bit, but I was more relieved that she couldn't hear our conversations from there—at least, if she'd been telling the truth about that.

"You want improvement, boss?" Jack said under his breath, bitter as he stared at the booth with narrowed eyelids.

"Alright. I'll show you improvement."

I soon realized that putting that much effort into the first round was a mistake; now he really showed no mercy, beating me at least seven times in a row, making me lose my composure with some stupid psychological trick, or a weird question, or that damn cheeky smile. My frustration was building up little by little with each loss, and a small part of me wished he would at least say something smug, or push me over the edge another way. I needed an extra kick. I needed to snap somehow. It didn't help that every round, I was getting thrown and pinned to the floor, and his face kept inching towards mine the exact same way as it did when we first met. The only difference was I could see the ferocity in his features this time, and that only made things worse.

"Last round before break," Edith called to us as Jack stood over me once more, hand outstretched in an offer to help me up. I could tell he was still fired up, though; his face was flushed, at least as much as it could be for somebody with little to no blood, and his hand gripped mine just a little bit too tight as he pulled me to my feet. The corners of his mouth were tugged upward in an odd middle ground—somewhere halfway between a genuine smile and a smirk.

"Well. You heard her," he said with a raise of an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, though something in me was definitely worried about how invested he was getting in these rounds. Maybe even a little scared. I knew he wouldn't let it get to the point where he'd hurt me, not in a million years, but...

Once again, I got shoved to the ground with the pole at my neck. Neither of us bothered talking as we "fought," just focused on pushing the pole as far away from ourselves as possible. Jack gritted his teeth, the points grinding against each other as his gaze stayed locked on mine. Throwing him off right now was out of the question; he was making himself heavy on purpose, putting all the weight he could onto the pole and, subsequently, my arms. The slightest wind-up it would take me to push him off would've handed this victory to him on a silver platter. My arms were starting to shake violently.

Think, god, think! What worked last time we were like this? I had to say something. Something that would throw him off guard.

I slid my hands to the ends of the bar, trying desperately to keep them off the ground. I had a feeling that at any moment a fire would start in his eye sockets, he looked so determined to win.

Should I say something about my kidneys again? No, this isn't about that. He wouldn't buy it this time, either. I need something out of the blue, something absolutely ridiculous, something like...!

I stared him straight in the eyes and said it.

"I love you."

He stopped pushing down for only a split second.

"What?"

And that split second was more than enough.

I raised an elbow and threw the bar off myself, making sure to hang onto one end. He staggered back on his knees, still in confusion as I knocked him to the ground and nearly broke the pole bending it over his neck.

Score.

"Whoo!" I raised my arms and sat in place for a while, too engulfed in my victory to move. Jack propped himself up on his elbows, flabbergasted, as I combed some hair away from my face.

"Alright, first win!"

He made an attempt to crawl back and away from me, but gave up after about fifteen seconds, hopelessly trapped. Why doesn't he just tell me to stand up?

"Uh, can we backtrack a little bit here? What did you just say?"

"...first win?"

"No, before that. You know what I'm talking about," he said, scratching the back of his head. I felt a twinge of embarrassment when I realized.

"Oh. Well, okay, that might not have been the best way to get your attention..." I gave the matter some more thought, and eventually laughed. "Nevermind. That was totally the best way to get your attention. Now I just need to work on—"

Jack groaned before I could finish talking. "Of course! You didn't mean it, I don't know why I expected you to." He pushed me off and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck. I frowned.

"Hey, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad—"

"It's fine. I'm gonna get refreshed, you can keep practicing if you want."

"Practice what? I can't really do it without..."

He had already left the room, and I sat cross-legged on the floor, wondering why it had been such a big deal to him.

—

"Hey, Jack...?"

"I said it's fine."

"Bullshit. Come on, just tell me! I'm betting you..." I was about to check myself for loose change when I remembered all of my belongings were back home. "...uh, five dollars that it'll make you feel better." That's a safe amount of money, right?

"You can't bribe people into opening up, Sawyer, that's not how it works." Jack flicked the cap of his water bottle across the break room, watching it bounce off the wall, resting his head in one hand. "Besides, I have no use for human money."

I scoffed. "Well, I had to at least try it. Is it really so bad that you can't tell me? What, have you never heard somebody say...uh, that to you? Is it that kind of situation?"

"It's fine!"

The room was empty except for the two of us, with a heavily guarded crate of water bottles on a table in the corner. It almost felt like a cafe—circular plastic tables roughly lined the wall along with foldable chairs, a sure sign that whichever demon came up with this place had done so as a last resort and stocked it as cheaply as possible. The steam I'd seen before through the glass door must have been an illusion; this place was almost drier than the realm itself. I frowned down at Jack, who looked like he wasn't the most comfortable here but didn't have a whole lot of other places to go.

"Look, if you wanted me to leave you alone any other time, I would, but this is really going to affect you if we don't sort it out. I know you don't care all that much, but the demons expect a lot from you, they're expecting to see you improve. And what's going to happen to that if they catch you like this?" I grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over so that I was sitting across from him at the table.

"Besides, I can't help but feel like this has something to do with me, specifically, and it's going to eat me up until I figure out what I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he said into his hands. I was growing impatient.

"Then what's this all about?! Jack, you...you know I do love you, right? You're one of my best friends. Did something happen that made you feel like—?"

"I know, I know. God, you're overthinking this so much! It's really not that complicated." He lifted his head, still looking unhappy, but more so confused. It was like he was weighing two options in his mind, both of them equally horrifying, or great, or whatever.

"...do you promise not to freak out if I do something crazy?"

Shit.

"Uh, exactly how crazy are we talking?" I folded my arms on the table nervously. Something was starting to come together in my head, I just couldn't place what. His face turned a shade of purple almost indistinguishable from his normal skin color, but I still noticed. He drummed a few fingers against the wood as if trying to calm himself down.

"You know. Normal, human crazy. Like jumping off a cliff, or starting a fire in your backyard, that kind of stuff."

My heart started racing as I put the pieces together.

He's going to kiss me, isn't he.

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to muster the courage to make a split-second decision. "I don't think I can promise not to freak out, if we're being honest."

All this "we" talk—why did I have to start doing that?! How does he even think I feel about this? About him?

His face fell, and once he started speaking again I knew I'd made the right choice. "I guess I can't blame you. But can I at least explain what—"

"Just let me do this first."

I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss, shoving every rational thought I could possibly have into the back of my head. I couldn't afford to think anymore. All I could do was feel—and I felt the tar against my cheek, running cold, the way Jack's teeth were pointed instead of square, how his skin felt like it would chip away if I touched him for too long. I felt his hand on my face, the other on my neck, pulling me closer, the claws that tried too hard not to scratch me, unaware that I wouldn't mind if they did. Just this once. I tasted the blood on his lips, and felt the table between us, but I knew that was for the better. Because if there'd been nothing there, I was afraid that I might never be able to pull back from him.

I was kissing a monster. But I knew this one wasn't going to hurt me.

When we broke apart, he narrowed his eyelids at me, out of breath. "You really have to win at everything, don't you?"

"Not what I expected you to say, but I'll take it," I muttered, still not sure what the hell just happened.

You just found out this guy's in love with you, is what happened. How could you be so dense?

To be fair, I...

Okay, I really didn't see that coming. So sue me.

He seemed to notice that he was still holding my face and quickly backed away, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. The tips of his hair were starting to flicker, turning red in a sort of choppily animated way that didn't fit quite right. He flattened it against his forehead, trying to hide it while I stood at a loss for action. He's used that body so often that it's a defense mechanism now?

"You love me," he said as more of a realization than a question, his voice a hoarse whisper. I looked down at the table and nodded.

"I guess I do."

"What do you mean, you guess? You've had a pretty fucking long time to figure it out, did you only stop and think about it now?"

"I-I don't know, all this time I thought you liked Nyx! You know, the only other human being I've seen you talk to here!"

Jack wiped some tar from his face and flicked it onto the floor, shaking his head. "Nyx—no, ew! Where'd you get that idea?!"

"Your boss said you were in love with a healer, I didn't think he meant me! Honestly, why would he? I'm just a med student who's worked on maybe two people in my entire life, I wouldn't say I qualify for professional healer status."

He stopped dead at whatever he was doing now, though exactly what it was I couldn't say. He furrowed his eyebrows and curled one hand into a fist on the table.

"You heard us?"

"So he didn't tell you. I was turning the corner just as you walked outside, you thought I was Nyx and yelled at me to mind my own business. I guess I should've been able to figure it out from there, that you weren't talking about...hey, are you okay?"

Jack was scratching viciously at his arms, eyelids stretched wide open, his hands almost shaking.

"So he really did know. This is bad. This is very, very bad—"

"What's so bad about it? I-I just got an answer to these hundreds of questions that have been spinning around in my head ever since—!"

"What's bad isn't what just happened, it's that he knows! I can't even predict what he might do from here to screw this up, all I know is that he's going to do it eventually. And when he does, he'll make it as painful and torturous and—"

I kicked the table out of the way and kissed him again, this time hugging his body close without a trace of shame. I really had loved him for a while, I just could never find the word. I hadn't even realized I felt jealous when I thought he was into Nyx, though the pain definitely made more sense to me now. None of it mattered anymore. He kissed back despite everything, running one hand through my hair and another up my back. It felt almost like it was instinctive to him. I pulled back and opened my eyes, suddenly all too aware of what I was doing.

"I—sorry, was that too much?"

"No, I definitely needed that." His voice was quiet and hoarse, still bearing the weight of everything he'd said before. I sighed and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face.

"Look, I just need you to relax right now. For once. Like how you were when you dropped by my house, all beaten up and half-possessed?"

Jack seemed to think, then cringed in realization. "Right. How I...kind of kissed you then, too."

I couldn't help but smirk as he said that. Told you it was going to be embarrassing.

"Yeah. That. What I'm trying to say is, whatever happens happens. Your boss—if I know one thing about him, it's that he was going to torture us anyway. He kind of already did. But I think we would both rather face that together. Wouldn't you?"

Jack fixed me with a blank look that was somehow packed with dozens of emotions. He looked surprised, enamored, upset, envious. His brow furrowed and he shook his head, almost disbelieving. Before I could ask him what the hell he was thinking, he whispered a question of his own.

"How do you see so much?"

The room fell silent. Through the awkward tension that now hung in the air and my own thumping heartbeat, I heard Edith's voice quietly from outside:

"What's taking them so long...?"

Jack seemed to hear it too; one of his ears perked up, and his gaze snapped to the door leading back to the arena. He let out a defeated sigh and, with a slight sense of melodrama, fell back into his chair. I pulled mine up next to him and sat down, folding my hands in my lap and waiting for him to elaborate. Because what kind of question was "how do you see so much?" What was he expecting me to say back?!

It's a gift, I thought ironically, without a fraction of an idea of what "it" could possibly be.

Jack stared ahead, eventually breaking into soft laughter, holding his head and running a hand through his hair. I leaned forward to try and catch his gaze.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's just..." He sighed again and kept looking ahead. "It's kind of funny. All this started because you hit me on the head with a tray and lied about missing one of your kidneys."

As sweet and sentimental as that was, I felt inclined to disagree. "It would've been the end of it, too, if you hadn't decided to come back."

Jack turned to me with a frown. "You think I chose to do that? That was the boss's idea. He was livid that you slipped away. 'S why I kept lying to him after that, why I had to keep you a secret." He seemed to think about it. "I guess it really started that second night. When you made coffee, and you were being a real dick to me."

"That's what made you fall in love?" Before he could give me one of his vague, dismissive answers, I made a shooing motion with my hand. "Nah, I'm pretty sure it was when you dragged me into the forest and threatened me with that weird knife."

"No, no, when I handcuffed you to that bench and you forgot your book—"

"That was the same day, dumbass. I think it was when you came back again and gave me my book—"

"Or when I tried to make a demonic pact with you, and you just were not buying it..."

Jack fell silent, with an expression on his face that said, "I fucked up." I was about to ask what was wrong when I fully processed what he had said.

"...that's what that handshake was? A pact?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "You were trying to trick me?"

He started to scratch his arms, a wavering smile spreading across his face. "Uh...yeah. Surprise," he said, his voice wavering just as much. He probably thought I hated him right about now, but I wasn't as angry as I was curious.

"What was it supposed to do?"

He lowered his head and hunched his shoulders, still smiling nervously. He didn't answer right away; I thought I was going to have to pester him for the truth again. Letting out a defeated sigh, he held out his hands, like, this is the deal.

"O-obviously, I would never do it now. But if you shook my hand, and my boss didn't find out about you or the pact for...let's say a month or so...um. Well, your soul would basically be his. I thought I'd introduce you as a new servant, make sure we never saw each other again so I wouldn't have to face any of that—it was stupid, I know. I would've basically turned you into another me." His voice was guttural and ridden with guilt, and I felt a pang of sympathy from how sorry he seemed. But instead of expressing it properly, I must have looked even angrier, because at the sight of my face he winced.

"Please, don't look at me like that. Hey..." He placed a hand on mine, a bold move for the situation he must've thought he was in. "It's different now. You know that. I told you, I wouldn't do that now..." He knit his eyebrows at the look on my face, though I couldn't tell for the life of me what it was now. I scoffed and shook my head, not bothering to swat his hand away.

"You're an idiot. I would've opened, like, ten cans of whoop-ass on you if I found out that's what you were trying to do."

"Oh, so you're not going to do it once we get back from break?" He didn't sound so guilty anymore, a teasing tone creeping into his voice as he leaned closer to me. I had to fight back a snicker. Is he...trying to flirt? I mean, at least I can tell now.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to embarrass you in front of that demon, or your boss, or whoever sees it. No..." I threw him a knowing look and stood back up. "I'm saving that for when we get home."

When he hesitated in standing up with me, I worried for a fleeting moment that I'd said something wrong and hastily backtracked.

"I mean, my home. I-I know this place is kind of where you live, and—"

Jack shook his head and stood, taking one of my hands. "No. This place was never home to me." A tiny smile broke through on his face. "You're right. When we get home."

He didn't have to tell me what he meant by that.