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Jax continued to stare at her, even if it'd been a few seconds already. It was hard not to, with her eyes so tender and hiding nothing behind them. Even if his mind searched for signs of deceit, he found nothing—he couldn't chalk the situation up to a manipulation attempt.
Her shoulders lowered and somehow, her smile softened even more. Jax could feel a weight settling easily in his eyelids, he could feel his heart beating—fake or not, it didn't matter. It pounded against his chest in a pleasant manner, alive once more because it was finally being seen.
She didn't say a word and the need to fill the silence rose in his throat, forming whatever words he could say. He looked away, but didn't attempt to pull away. Not again.
“This is so weird,” he commented with a puff of air, his usual lighthearted tone attempting to come back and failing spectacularly. It came off as awkward instead. Idiot.
“Is it?” Ribbit asked, her voice coming before he could think too hard about how pathetic he was right now. “I don't know, I think I like it.”
Jax scoffed, hoping it helped in cooling down the horrible, embarrassing, pleasant heat in his cheeks.
“Like what? Seeing me all weak and vulnerable?” he asked, glancing in her direction though unable to even make eye contact with her. His eyes were on her neck instead, where her bow used to be. A bow now perched on the base of his ear. A tether.
“Honest,” she corrected, infuriatingly patient. “I'm… Thank you for trusting me, Jax. It means a lot.”
“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled dismissively, looking down at his knees. Maybe the wise thing to do would've been to leave, say 'goodnight!' and go to his room in order to sleep this off, wake up and treat it like a dream. People were never this straightforward, were they? There had to be some kind of trick, but– God, he wanted to believe her so badly.
He felt warm in a way that didn't burn, it was a sensation that instead embraced him and made the tension he'd carried for long loosen slightly, akin to the melting wax of a candle that had forgotten what warmth felt like. It wasn't much, but it was enough to allow him to breathe. Another part of him, one used to the ambivalence of behavior and intentions, expected Ribbit to mock him, call him out, maybe prod further to see how much more juicy information she could squeeze out of him.
Once more, she didn't allow him to spiral. He first sensed movement and when he looked to the side, he found her scooting closer. He didn't move. He pretended he didn't care.
Then her hand approached his and her finger brushed over his glove. It was the smallest of grazes, but he felt it anyway. A request, space for him to pull away if he so wished. Ribbit was being so careful, treating him like some scared animal.
Then again, that was what he was; he was an animal, a purple rabbit of all things, and he was scared, though he'd never say it out loud. Many things made him feel like he was drowning in doubts and questions, but most of all, the idea that this was all fake terrified him the most.
If the risk existed, then why wasn't he pulling away? She was giving him the option, and if he was smart, he should take it.
He didn't, but he did move. He parted his fingers, leaving the space between them open. He heard her sigh through her nose before she intertwined their fingers together. Jax didn't remember the last time he'd been held so tenderly, if it was a touch he'd ever known at all.
“Jax,” she called out, softly. All he could muster was a hum, worried that if he said something more, he'd ruin this somehow.
“Wanna stay here for the night?” she offered, lightly squeezing his hand. He looked at her again, finally, and forced a chuckle.
“What are you asking?” he questioned, trying to smirk, even if it hurt the corners of his mouth. The mask—it didn't come as easy as it did before.
“Exactly that,” she said, returning the smile. Hers was genuine, though, transparent and pretty—he wanted to hold on to it. “If you want to stay here, have a sleepover or whatever we decide to call it.”
Jax found himself laughing and it didn't leave him feeling hollow afterwards. That was a norm when he was around her, it seemed.
“A sleepover? What are we now, six years old?”
“Sleepovers don't have an age restriction, you ███!” she argued, tugging on his hand playfully and laughing alongside him. “Especially not here. We're a frog and a rabbit—rules are meaningless. So, let's just have some fun.”
Jax rolled his eyes, but relented anyway.
“Fine,” he said, his tone resigned as though he hadn't hoped for their moment to last a little longer. Even without that in the mix, the way her expression lit up alone made it worth it.
“Okay! I think I have a spare pillow around here somewhere–” she began, squeezing his hand one last time before she let go to search for the aforementioned pillow. Jax immediately missed the contact, but he didn't go after her and instead looked down at his hand. The same hand that–
Jax shook his head to get rid of that train of thought, a movement that made him remember the additional weight on his head. Ribbit's bow. It was easier to focus on that instead, on what it meant and what he wanted it to mean. Maybe there was a hidden intention, he couldn't entirely discard the possibility, but… trusting Ribbit hadn't brought a sense of dread that choked him.
It scared him, yes, but the whole thing comforted him as well, in a strange way, with the weight of his regrets having become less heavy. He looked over to see Ribbit gathering pillows and blankets, and he smiled to himself; the feelings pooling in his heart were confusing, but he wanted to allow himself to just be, for once.
Ribbit looked over and their eyes met. She gestured at the many things she was holding and Jax responded with a thumbs-up.
So earnest, this girl. Somehow, she'd torn down all of his defenses and when she found him, she didn't pull away and had convinced him to do the same.
If he had pulled away, like he always did–
Well.
Jax didn't have to wonder about that now.