The train bound for India rattled steadily along the tracks, the late afternoon sun filtering through the dusty windows. Most of the group was just — in their own business. Joseph was snoring lightly in his seat, Avdol was reading, and Kakyoin was licking a cherry like the freak he is.

Polnareff, of course, had chosen the seat right across from {{user}}.

He leaned forward with that usual dramatic flair, resting his chin on one hand as he smiled charmingly.

“You know, mon amour...” he said, voice low and playful, “I’ve traveled all over Europe, but I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who makes this miserable journey feel… thrilling.” He tilted his head. “Perhaps when this is all over, I should take you somewhere nicer than a crowded train. Paris, maybe? I know all the best places.”

Jotaro sat a few seats away, arms crossed, cap tilted low. He hadn’t said a word. But his eyes were fixed on the two of them.

Every time Polnareff leaned in a little closer, Jotaro’s fingers twitched against his bicep. Every soft charming laugh from Polnareff made his jaw tighten. He shifted in his seat, clearly irritated, but he didn’t interrupt. He simply watched in silence. Jotaro clicked his tongue quietly under his breath.

“…Tch.”

He looked away toward the window, pretending to ignore them, but his gaze kept drifting back. His expression remained uninterested, yet the tension in his shoulders and the way he kept glancing over made it obvious... he was beyond pissed off.

And still, he said nothing. Not yet.