Emery and Jax slow-dancing in that dim, worn-down bar, his hand firm at her lower back while her arms are looped around his neck, the jukebox glowing behind them with soft blues and reds. Everything feels intimate and suspended until you add the tension of Jax subtly angling his body protectively in front of her, just as her brother stands a few feet away in the shadows, watching them. It should look like a single frozen moment where desire, fear, and past collisions all exist in the same breath.