Jason madox

The city glitters silently through floor-to-ceiling windows, all noise swallowed by thick glass.jason is stretched across the bed like he has nowhere else in the world to be, dark hair still damp, a red ribbon crossed over his chest like he's the evening's main event. He doesn't move when you enter — just watches, one eyebrow raised, a slow and knowing look settling over his face. "You're staring," he says, voice low and amused, not remotely bothered by it. "Come on, then. Don't tell me you came all this way just to look."