The hospital room was quiet when Jack stepped inside.
Lina sat upright on the bed,
a soft lamp casting a warm glow across her face.
She looked tired—
fragile—
but even in her exhaustion, she carried a softness that pulled him in like gravity.
Jack closed the door behind him slowly.
She looked up.
"Jack…?"
Her voice was small, surprised.
He didn't speak at first.
He just stood there,
breathing hard,
as if every step toward her was a fight against himself.
Finally, he walked closer.
Not too close.
But close enough for her to feel the shift in the air.
"I need to tell you something," he said quietly.
Lina's brows knit gently.
"What is it?"
Jack swallowed.
This wasn't anger.
Wasn't rage.
Wasn't confusion.
This was rawness.
Bare.
Exposed.
Something he had never allowed anyone to see.
"I've tried to stop it," he said, voice low, rough.
"I've tried to do the right thing.
To stay away.
To control myself."
He shook his head, jaw tight.
"But I can't."
Lina's heartbeat quickened.
"Jack… what are you—"
He cut her off softly.
"I love you."
Silence fell—
heavy, breathless, consuming.
Lina blinked.
Her lips parted.
But he kept going,
words pouring out of him like a confession tearing through stone.
"I don't mean some small, gentle love."
His voice dropped darker.
"I mean something that terrifies me.
Something I can't ignore.
Something that makes me want to break and rebuild myself."
Lina's breath caught in her throat.
Her chest tightened—
not from fear,
but from something dangerously close to longing.
Jack stepped closer.
"One look at you," he whispered,
"and I forget every monster I've ever been."
Lina lowered her gaze for a moment,
then lifted it again—
eyes soft, trembling.
"Jack…"
She swallowed.
"I… feel something too."
His eyes widened—
not with triumph,
but with pure disbelief.
"You do?" he breathed.
She nodded slowly.
"It scares me too," she whispered.
"But… yes."
Jack exhaled shakily,
as if her words pulled the air back into his lungs.
He approached her bed—
slowly, carefully—
as if she were something he'd ruin with one wrong move.
He reached out,
stopping just before touching her cheek.
"Lina…"
His voice trembled for the first time.
"I'm not like your brother.
I'm not gentle.
I'm not safe."
"I know," she whispered.
"And I'm still here."
Something broke inside him—
in the most beautiful way.
Jack leaned closer,
eyes burning not with anger this time—
but devotion.
Dangerous, consuming devotion.
"Then listen to me carefully," he murmured,
the darkness in his voice turning into a vow.
"I love you.
And if anyone threatens you…"
his jaw clenched,
eyes going cold,
"…I will burn the world to the ground."
Lina inhaled sharply—
not afraid—
but overwhelmed.
She whispered:
"Jack…"
He finally touched her cheek,
thumb brushing gently across her skin.
His voice dropped to a soft, aching confession.
"You are the only thing that makes me want to be more than a monster."
Lina's heart shattered and rebuilt in one breath.
She placed her hand over his.
"…Jack," she whispered,
"I love you too."
For a moment,
the world stopped.
Jack leaned his forehead against hers,
eyes closing,
breathing her in as if she were the first pure thing he ever touched.
"I'm yours," he murmured.
"Whether that saves me…
or destroys me."
Lina smiled faintly—
shyly—
and whispered:
"I'll take that risk."
Jack opened his eyes,
dark with love and danger intertwined.
"You're worth every risk," he said.
Then he pressed a soft, trembling kiss to her forehead—
a kiss far more intimaThe hospital hallway was unusually loud.
Raised voices.
Footsteps.
A familiar tone the boy hadn't heard in a long time—
a tone he hoped never to hear again.
He froze mid-step outside Lina's room.
His breath caught.
He recognized those voices.
His parents.
Lina's parents.
They had finally found her.
His heart dropped into his stomach.
He felt the walls closing in,
his chest tightening,
the edges of the world blurring.
A nurse tried to calm them.
"She needs rest—"
"We're her parents!" the father barked.
"We have every right to see her!"
The mother's voice trembled with false worry.
"Lina, sweetheart—where is she? Where is my daughter?"
The boy's vision darkened.
Not from anger.
From memories.
Memories of being left alone.
Of working at twelve.
Of crying himself to sleep.
Of begging for help that never came.
Of disappearing for days with Jack
and no one looking for him.
His knees weakened.
His breathing turned sharp.
"No… no— not them… not now…"
He wanted to run.
Hide.
Disappear.
But the door to Lina's room swung open—
And she stood there.
Still pale.
Still fragile.
But standing.
"Mom? Dad?" she whispered.
The mother rushed forward.
"Oh, thank God—look at you— what have you gotten yourself into? We were worried sick—"
Lina's expression hardened.
"You weren't," she said quietly.
Both parents froze.
"What?" her father demanded sharply.
"You weren't worried," Lina repeated.
"You didn't call.
You didn't check on me.
You didn't even know I fainted.
You didn't know where I lived."
She shook her head.
"You didn't come for me.
You came because someone told you where I was."
The father's jaw tightened.
"That doesn't matter. Pack your things. You're coming home."
Lina stepped back.
"I'm not."
The father's nostrils flared.
"You're a minor—"
"I'm eighteen."
"You're still under our authority," he barked.
"You will come with us NOW."
He grabbed her arm.
And that's when everything changed.
Because suddenly—
A hand seized the father's wrist.
Tight.
Unmovable.
Deadly.
Jack.
His eyes were dark.
Cold.
Unmistakably dangerous.
"Let go of her," Jack said quietly.
The father yanked his hand.
"Who the hell are—"
Jack stepped forward,
towering over him,
voice low but sharp as a blade.
"You heard me."
The father scoffed.
"You can't tell me—"
Jack leaned closer,
his expression turning lethal.
"If you touch her again," he whispered,
"I swear you won't leave this building standing."
The father paled.
"Are you threatening me—?"
"Yes," Jack replied simply.
"With pleasure."
Lina blinked in shock—
but not fear.
Something inside her fluttered.
The mother stepped between them.
"Stop this! Lina, come with us—now!"
"No," Lina said, louder this time.
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
The boy finally found his voice—
weak, trembling, but real.
"She's staying," he whispered.
Everyone turned toward him.
His parents stared—
surprised, offended.
"You," his mother said sharply,
"don't get to speak in this."
The boy flinched.
Old wounds ripped open instantly.
His breathing hitched.
But before panic could swallow him—
Jack stepped in front of him.
Completely shielding him from their view.
"Talk to him again like that," Jack said,
"and you'll deal with me."
The father raised a finger.
"Listen here, boy—"
Jack grabbed his collar.
"No," he growled,
"you listen."
The hallway went silent.
Jack's voice dropped into a low, deadly tone:
"Lina is not going with you.
She is with us.
With me."
His eyes darkened further.
"And if you ever try to drag her away again—
I'll make sure you regret it."
The parents stood frozen.
Terrified.
Lina stepped closer to Jack,
her hand brushing his arm gently.
"Jack," she whispered softly.
He didn't look at her.
His eyes stayed on her parents.
"Leave," he ordered.
They hesitated.
Sally appeared behind them, arms crossed.
"I'd listen to him," she said coldly.
"He's being merciful today."
That did it.
The parents backed away slowly.
"This isn't over," the father hissed.
Jack smirked.
"It is," he said,
"for you."
The parents turned and stormed down the hallway.
Silence fell.
Jack finally took a breath and looked at Lina.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice soft—
softer than anyone ever heard from him.
Lina nodded.
And without thinking,
she whispered:
"Thank you."
Jack's ears turned red instantly.
He looked away, muttering:
"…Whatever."
But Lina smiled faintly.
Because she knew—
he didn't say "whatever."
He said "anything for you."
te than passion.
A kiss of devotion.
A promise.
And when he stepped back,
his voice was quiet.
"Rest," he said.
"I'm not leaving you anymore."
Not tonight.
Not tomorrow.
Not ever.