Fractured Hearts

The city of Zaun never slept. It was always alive—whether in the grimy, grinding noise of machinery or the constant hum of whispers in the underbelly of society. The streets were dangerous, the people unpredictable, and in a world of shifting allegiances, one thing remained certain: survival was a delicate, constant balance. You had spent your life walking that fine line, balancing the sharp edge of violence and the quiet patience of a strategist. Experience had taught you to be calm, steady. The chaos of Zaun didn't faze you; it never had.

But then, there was Jinx.

You were in Silco's office, waiting for your next assignment. It was a routine night—just another task in the endless web of operations that kept the city in his grip. As you sat across from him, listening to his low, measured voice outline the mission, your mind wandered. The flashing lights outside his window reflected on the glass of his desk, casting dancing shadows across the room. Silco's eyes met yours, his usually cold and calculating gaze lingering just a moment longer than usual.

"You'll be keeping an eye on Jinx this time," he said, his voice as calm as ever. "She's unpredictable—keep her focused on the task. We need her at her best."

You nodded, already reaching for your coat, a well-worn piece of armor you had grown accustomed to. You'd been working for Silco long enough to know that no job was ever simple, and nothing in Zaun could be taken at face value. Jinx, with her wild energy, had a way of turning even the most straightforward missions into a spectacle.

You hadn't worked with her closely before. You'd seen her—heard the stories, felt the chaos she left in her wake—but until now, you'd kept your distance. She wasn't a woman you could easily figure out. Jinx was an enigma wrapped in madness, her chaotic energy always crackling just beneath the surface.

Silco's instructions were clear: keep her in check. Easier said than done.

You found Jinx at the edge of the city, near a derelict factory, where she was supposed to meet with an informant. The dim lighting and the sound of grinding metal echoed off the walls, adding to the feeling that the world itself was slowly crumbling. You spotted her immediately—a flash of blue and pale skin in the distance, her wild hair flowing like a storm.

Jinx didn't notice you at first. She was crouched, inspecting something with an intense focus that didn't match her manic energy. Her tattoos, the clouds swirling on her right arm, caught the flickering light as she shifted. You watched her for a moment before stepping forward, the quiet sound of your boots barely audible on the cold concrete.

"Jinx," you said, your voice calm, but firm. "Silco sent me."

She froze, slowly turning to face you. Her chaotic, wide-eyed expression snapped toward you like lightning. The smile she flashed was electric, an unpredictable mix of glee and madness.

"Who's this?" she said, eyes narrowing with interest. "Someone new to play with?"

You didn't flinch. Jinx had that effect on people, her erratic behavior throwing anyone who wasn't prepared off balance. But you had learned how to handle such people. You'd seen more than your fair share of madness in this city, but something about her—the way her chaotic energy crackled in the air—pulled at something deep inside you.

"I'm here to make sure you don't get distracted," you said, eyeing her carefully. "Silco wants this mission done. No detours."

She tilted her head, studying you like a curious creature. "A babysitter, huh? You think you can keep me focused? I'll surprise you, old lady."

The taunt didn't affect you. You had long since learned not to let insults or wild behavior faze you. You crossed your arms, keeping a steady stance.

"I don't think I'll have to," you replied. "But if you keep up with this—" You motioned to her energetic movements, the constant shifting that was starting to get under your skin. "—I'll make sure you regret it."

She blinked at you, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in her eyes—an emotion that wasn't part of her manic persona. It was brief, a flash, like a ghost, but it was there. Pain, maybe. Or fear. Something deep and buried beneath the wild chaos she wore like a shield.

Jinx straightened, shaking her head as though clearing a thought. Her manic grin returned, but it was laced with a bit of uncertainty. "Right, right. No more distractions," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Let's get to work, then. We don't want to disappoint Daddy, do we?"

The mission went as expected, with Jinx bouncing around and causing more noise than necessary. Her unpredictability was exhausting, but you kept your distance, watching her closely, as Silco had requested. But even in the madness, you couldn't help but notice her sharp mind—the way she pieced together information, connecting dots that most people wouldn't have even noticed.

She wasn't just chaos, after all. There was intelligence behind her wild behavior.

You found her later, at the edge of the factory, staring out into the dark sky. The usual manic energy was still there, but something about her posture had shifted. She was... still.

The illusion was brief. In a flash, she was crouched down, hands pressed to her temples, her breaths quick and uneven. You recognized the signs of a hallucination, though you weren't sure what was happening inside her mind. She was muttering to herself, the words tumbling out in a frantic mess.

"No... no, no, NO! Mylo! It's not my fault! I didn't—" Her voice cracked, and she flinched as if someone had slapped her. You took a step forward, unsure of how to approach her. Jinx was always so unpredictable, but this... this was different. This wasn't the Jinx who laughed and ran wild. This was someone broken.

"Mylo?" you asked, your voice softer than usual. It was the first time you had ever spoken to her without the usual edge of command.

She didn't answer at first, lost in her own world, her hands trembling as she gripped her head, eyes wild. "I couldn't save you... I couldn't... I couldn't save anyone..."

The words hit you harder than you expected. The manic, unpredictable Jinx was gone, replaced by someone raw and vulnerable, someone who had been shattered by the weight of her own past. You saw it now—the pain that lurked beneath the chaos.

Her head snapped up, her wide eyes locking with yours. For a moment, the madness disappeared from her gaze, replaced by a brief, haunting clarity. It was fleeting, but in those few seconds, you saw everything she tried to hide—the weight of the world pressing down on her fragile mind.

And then it was gone. Her manic smile returned, and the wild energy bubbled to the surface once more.

"You don't get it, do you?" she said, her voice shaky but rising with confidence. "You can't fix me. No one can. Mylo's gone. They're all gone, and I'm just..." She trailed off, not finishing her thought, but the implication hung in the air like a heavy cloud. A wound she didn't know how to heal.

You didn't know how to respond. The weight of the moment was too much to confront head-on. You could see now what lay beneath her wild persona, and it wasn't just the need to cause chaos. It was the need to be seen—to be understood, even just for a fleeting moment.

Without saying a word, you stepped closer to her, watching her carefully. She didn't pull away, but her eyes flickered with wariness. You didn't know what you were doing. You didn't know if it was the right thing. But you reached out, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Jinx..." you started, your voice quieter than you intended, but she flinched at the sound of her name.

"Don't," she whispered, pulling away sharply. "Don't pity me."

"I'm not," you replied, your hand dropping back to your side. "I'm just here. You're not alone."

For a moment, it felt like time stopped. The two of you stood there in the silence, the weight of the city pressing down on you both. Jinx's breath was still shaky, but her eyes seemed to soften, just for a second. And then, as if nothing had happened, she stood up straight, her wild smile returning with the familiar energy of chaos.

"Yeah, whatever," she muttered. "Let's just finish this, okay?"

You didn't press further. You weren't sure you could. The glimpse you'd seen of the person beneath Jinx's manic exterior had unsettled you in

——

The night's mission should have been simple—a handoff of stolen tech to a contact in Piltover, in exchange for enough hex crystals to fund Silco's next operation. But in Zaun, things were rarely simple. Even with your years of experience, this one tested you in ways you hadn't expected.

And Jinx? She was both the solution and the problem.

The two of you had made it halfway to the rendezvous point without incident. Jinx's energy was, as usual, chaotic and unpredictable. She hummed a tune under her breath, tossing her pistol from hand to hand as though it were a toy. Despite Silco's orders, she didn't seem remotely interested in keeping a low profile.

"Relax," she said, skipping ahead of you, her braids bouncing with each step. "It's boring when everything goes according to plan. We're doing them a favor, really. A little chaos spices things up."

You bit back a sigh, gripping your own weapon tightly as your gaze scanned the darkened alleyways. You'd dealt with your share of loose cannons before, but Jinx was something else entirely. Still, you held your tongue. Getting into an argument would only waste time.

"Just stay focused," you said evenly, keeping your voice steady. "Silco expects results, not fireworks."

Jinx turned to you, walking backward now, her wide eyes glinting in the faint light. "Fireworks are results," she said, grinning. "Besides, you need to loosen up. You're so serious all the time. It's a little depressing."

Her words stung more than you cared to admit. You'd been accused of being cold before, of letting your work consume you. It was true, to an extent, but it was also necessary. Staying composed, keeping your emotions locked away—that's how you survived in Zaun.

But Jinx had a way of slipping through cracks you didn't even know existed.

The deal itself went smoothly enough, at least at first. The contact showed up on time, and the exchange was made without issue. But as you turned to leave, you caught the faint glint of something in the shadows—a weapon.

"Down!" you barked, shoving Jinx aside just as a shot rang out. You fired back instinctively, the adrenaline kicking in before your brain had time to catch up.

Jinx, however, didn't duck for cover. Instead, she whooped with glee, pulling out one of her modified grenades. "Now we're talking!" she shouted, lobbing it toward the assailants with a manic laugh.

The explosion lit up the alley, debris raining down as the attackers scattered. You were still catching your breath when you felt a sharp, searing pain in your upper arm. You looked down to see blood trickling down your sleeve, staining the fabric a deep crimson.

Jinx noticed immediately, her grin faltering. "Oh, whoops," she said, lowering her pistol. "That might've been me. But, hey, accidents happen, right?"

You glared at her, your teeth clenched against the pain. "You shot me," you said, your voice low and steady, though your anger simmered beneath the surface.

"I said it was an accident!" she snapped, her expression defensive. "Don't get all dramatic on me. You're fine. It's just a scratch."

It wasn't just a scratch, but you didn't have time to argue. The remaining attackers were retreating, and the priority was getting out before reinforcements arrived. Gritting your teeth, you motioned for Jinx to follow.

"This isn't over," you muttered, pressing a hand to your arm to slow the bleeding.

The walk back to Silco's base was tense. Jinx was uncharacteristically quiet, and you weren't sure if it was guilt or simply boredom. Either way, you were grateful for the silence. It gave you a chance to think.

You didn't like how Jinx got under your skin. She was reckless, unpredictable, and far too willing to put herself—and everyone else—in danger. But there was something else, something you couldn't quite put into words. Maybe it was the way her chaotic energy contrasted with the moments of vulnerability you'd glimpsed. Or maybe it was just the fact that, despite everything, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away.

She was magnetic, in her own twisted way, and that scared you more than you cared to admit.

When you reached the base, you expected her to dart off to her workshop or disappear into the labyrinth of tunnels like she usually did. But instead, she lingered, pacing back and forth as though trying to work off some restless energy.

"You're gonna get that patched up, right?" she asked, nodding toward your arm. Her voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, like she was forcing herself to care.

"I'll take care of it," you replied curtly. "Don't worry about me."

Jinx snorted, twirling a loose strand of blue hair around her finger. "Yeah, okay. Big, tough lady doesn't need anyone's help. Got it."

You didn't respond, too focused on cleaning the wound. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw her watching you, her expression unusually serious. It was rare to see her without that manic grin, and the sight made your chest tighten in a way you didn't fully understand.

Later that night, you found her in her workshop. You hadn't planned on seeking her out, but something about the way she'd looked at you earlier had stuck with you. There was more to Jinx than the chaos she projected, and for reasons you couldn't explain, you wanted to understand her.

When you entered, she was muttering to herself, her hands working furiously on a new gadget. The room was a mess of wires, tools, and half-finished contraptions, but she moved through it all with a kind of frenetic grace.

"Jinx," you said, your voice cutting through the noise.

She jumped, nearly dropping the wrench in her hand. "Jeez, don't sneak up on me like that!" she said, glaring at you. But the irritation faded quickly, replaced by her usual manic energy. "What do you want? Here to yell at me some more about the whole 'shooting you' thing? I said I was sorry!"

You shook your head, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm not here to yell," you said. "I just... wanted to check on you."

The words felt strange coming out of your mouth. You weren't the kind of person who checked on people. You didn't do attachments, didn't let yourself get involved. But with Jinx, it was different. She had a way of drawing you in, whether you wanted her to or not.

She blinked at you, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, her chaotic energy seemed to falter, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

"I'm fine," she said, but her voice lacked its usual confidence. She turned back to her work, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up a screwdriver.

You hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. You weren't used to this—comforting people, reaching out. It wasn't who you were. But something about Jinx made you want to try, even if it felt unnatural.

"Are you?" you asked gently.

She froze, her shoulders tensing. "Why do you care?" she asked, her voice sharp. "You're just another one of Silco's lapdogs. You're not my friend."

The words stung, but you didn't let them show. Instead, you stepped closer, your gaze steady. "Maybe I'm not your friend," you said. "But that doesn't mean I don't care."

Jinx turned to you, her chaotic eyes narrowing. "You don't get it," she said, her voice trembling. "You don't know what it's like. Losing everything. Everyone. It... it messes you up. Makes you—" She broke off, her hands gripping the edge of the workbench so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

You could see the cracks in her armor now, the pain she tried so hard to hide. It was raw, unfiltered, and it made your chest ache in a way you hadn't felt in years.

"I do get it," you said quietly, your voice softer than you'd intended.

She looked at you then, her eyes searching yours for something—answers, maybe, or just understanding. And for the first time, you saw her not as Jinx, the wild card in Silco's operation, but as a young woman carrying more pain than anyone should ever have to bear.

For a moment, the chaos between you stilled. The noise of the workshop faded, and all that remained was the quiet understanding of two broken souls trying to make sense of a world that had taken too much from them.

But then, just as quickly, the moment was gone. Jinx pulled away, her manic grin returning like a mask. "Whatever," she said, waving you off. "Don't get all sappy on me, okay? I'm fine. Really."

You didn't push her. You knew better than to try. But as you left the workshop, the weight of her pain lingered with you, settling deep in your chest.

You didn't know what to do with these feelings—this strange, growing pull toward her. You'd spent so long keeping your emotions locked away, protecting yourself from the dangers of attachment. But with Jinx, it was different.

And that terrified you.

——

The first clue that something was wrong was the eerie quiet.

Jinx was never quiet. She was a whirlwind of sound, a cacophony of muttering, laughter, and explosions. But as you entered the upper level of her workshop, all you heard was the faint buzz of fluorescent lights.

Your gut told you this wasn't right. Jinx didn't do silence. She thrived in chaos, in noise.

"Jinx?" you called, your voice cutting through the stillness. There was no answer, just the faint crackle of electricity from one of her gadgets.

Your eyes scanned the room. It was a wreck, even by her standards. Broken devices littered the floor, shards of metal and glass crunching under your boots. One of her smoke bombs lay dismantled on the table, its delicate innards strewn haphazardly across the surface.

Then you heard it—a low, shuddering breath from behind a stack of crates.

You approached cautiously, your hand resting on the pistol at your hip. As you rounded the corner, you found her.

Jinx was on her knees, her back to you, her hands tangled in her braids as though trying to rip them out. Her whole body trembled, and her breathing was ragged, uneven.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," she muttered, rocking back and forth.

Your heart sank. You'd seen her like this before—on the edge of a breakdown, teetering between reality and whatever nightmare her mind was conjuring. But this... this was worse.

"Jinx," you said gently, keeping your tone low and calm.

She didn't respond. Her fingers tightened in her hair, and she let out a strangled sob.

"Shut up! You're not real! You're dead! Just leave me alone!"

Her voice cracked, and for a moment, you thought she was talking to you. But then she turned her head slightly, her wild eyes fixed on something—or someone—that wasn't there.

"Mylo," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to hurt you."

The name hit you like a punch to the gut. You'd heard stories about Mylo and Claggor, about what happened back in the explosion. Silco didn't talk about it, and Jinx never mentioned it outright, but the scars were there—in her eyes, in her erratic behavior, in the way she clung to her gadgets as though they were her only lifeline.

"Jinx," you said again, stepping closer. "It's me. You're safe. No one's here but me."

She froze, her shoulders tensing. Slowly, she turned to face you. Her eyes were wide, glassy, her pupils blown.

"You're lying," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't see them, but they're here. Mylo, Claggor... they're everywhere."

She stood abruptly, stumbling back as though trying to get away from you—or from whatever ghosts haunted her. Her hand brushed against the edge of the workbench, and in one swift motion, she grabbed a wrench.

You didn't flinch, even as she raised it, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Jinx," you said calmly. "I'm here to help."

She laughed then, a sharp, bitter sound that sent a chill down your spine.

"Help?" she said, her voice rising. "No one can help me. Not Silco, not you, not anyone!"

She swung the wrench at the nearest shelf, sending a cascade of tools crashing to the floor. Then she turned her rage on the workbench, slamming the wrench into the surface over and over again.

You didn't stop her. Not yet. You knew better than to get in her way when she was like this. She needed to let it out.

But when she turned to the wall, aiming for the intricate mural she'd painted—a chaotic swirl of colors and shapes that somehow made sense only to her—you stepped in.

"Jinx, stop," you said, grabbing her wrist mid-swing.

Her head snapped toward you, her eyes narrowing. For a moment, you thought she might lash out. But then her expression crumpled, and the wrench slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

"I can't fix it," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't fix me."

Before you could think, you pulled her into your arms. She stiffened at first, her hands twitching at her sides as though she didn't know what to do. But then, slowly, she relaxed, her head resting against your chest.

You held her tightly, one hand gently stroking her hair. "You don't have to fix it," you said softly. "You don't have to fix anything. Just breathe."

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt. For a moment, the chaos around you seemed to fade, replaced by a fragile stillness.

"I'm broken," she murmured, her voice muffled against your chest.

"No," you said firmly. "You're hurt. There's a difference."

She didn't respond, but you felt the tension in her body lessen slightly. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

You stayed like that for a while, holding her as the storm inside her subsided. When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, and she refused to meet your gaze.

"You're weird," she muttered, crossing her arms.

You raised an eyebrow. "Weird how?"

"Like... nice," she said, wrinkling her nose. "It's creepy."

You couldn't help but chuckle. Leave it to Jinx to turn a moment of vulnerability into something ridiculous.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you said.

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she grabbed a piece of scrap metal from the floor and started fidgeting with it, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she said suddenly, not looking up from her work.

"Do what?"

"Act like you care." Her voice was quiet, almost uncertain.

"I'm not acting," you said simply.

She glanced at you then, her chaotic eyes searching yours. Whatever she saw there must have been enough, because she didn't argue.

Instead, she shrugged, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Guess I've had worse babysitters."

It wasn't much, but it was something.

As you watched her tinker with the scrap metal, you felt a strange warmth settle in your chest. Jinx was chaos incarnate, a walking storm of destruction and pain. But beneath it all, she was just a girl trying to survive in a world that had taken everything from her.

And for reasons you couldn't explain, you wanted to be the calm in her storm.

——

The door to your quarters slams open so violently it nearly comes off the hinges. You're halfway through lacing your boots when you look up, already knowing who it is.

Jinx stands in the doorway, her wild blue braids swaying, her chest heaving as though she sprinted here. Her chaotic eyes burn into yours, bright and accusatory.

"You're leaving," she says, her voice sharp enough to cut steel.

You sigh and stand, keeping your movements calm and deliberate. Jinx doesn't do well with sudden shifts, especially when she's already on edge.

"It's just a mission," you say evenly. "I'll be back by tomorrow night."

Her lips curl into a sneer, but there's something beneath it—fear, raw and unfiltered.

"Yeah, sure," she spits. "That's what they all say before they don't come back."

You know exactly what she's talking about, though she doesn't name names. Mylo. Claggor. Her sister. Even Silco, in his own way, despite his physical presence. Everyone Jinx has ever cared about has either left or been taken from her.

"Jinx," you say gently, stepping toward her. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Her laugh is sharp and bitter, like broken glass.

"Promises don't mean anything," she snaps, her voice rising. "People lie. People leave. You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know you'll get tired of this—of me—and bail?"

Her words hit harder than you expect, but you don't let it show. Jinx thrives on reactions, thrives on pushing buttons until everything around her unravels.

You step closer, reaching out as though to touch her arm, but she pulls away sharply.

"Don't," she says, her voice trembling now. "Just... don't."

The distance between you feels like a chasm. You want to reach her, to find the right words to make her believe you, but you know better than to push too hard.

"I'm coming back," you say firmly. "You have my word."

Her laugh this time is softer, but no less bitter. She turns away, pacing the room like a caged animal.

"Yeah, okay," she mutters. "Sure. Go ahead. Leave. I'll be fine. I always am, right? Just me and my ghosts."

The way she says it makes your chest ache. You want to say something, anything, to make this better, but before you can, she whirls around, her eyes blazing.

"Why do you even care, huh?" she demands, stalking toward you. "Why pretend like I matter? I'm just some crazy, broken freak. You could walk away right now, and no one would blame you."

"Because you're not just some freak," you say, your voice steady but firm. "And you do matter. To me."

The words hang in the air, heavy and raw. For a moment, Jinx just stares at you, her expression unreadable.

Then she shoves you—hard.

"Don't say that!" she yells, her voice cracking. "Don't you dare say that if you're just gonna leave!"

You stumble back but catch yourself quickly, holding your ground.

"I'm coming back," you repeat, your voice unwavering. "I'm not leaving you, Jinx."

Her breathing is ragged now, her hands twitching at her sides as though she doesn't know whether to hit you or hug you.

"Why?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why would you come back? What's the point?"

You don't answer right away. Instead, you step closer, slowly, carefully, until you're standing inches away from her.

"Because I care about you," you say softly.

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, you see something break through the chaos—something vulnerable and scared.

"You're lying," she says, but her voice lacks conviction.

"I'm not," you say.

The air between you shifts, the tension crackling like static electricity. Her gaze flickers to your lips, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, everything else fades. The world, the mission, the danger—it all dissolves, leaving just the two of you.

You lean in, just slightly, testing the waters. Her breath hitches, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you think she might meet you halfway.

But then her body tenses, and her eyes dart to the side.

"No," she whispers, stepping back abruptly. "No, no, no. They're here."

Your stomach drops as you see the shift in her demeanor. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by wide-eyed panic.

"Who's here?" you ask carefully, keeping your voice calm.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she backs away, clutching her head as though trying to block out a sound only she can hear.

"They're laughing," she mutters, her voice trembling. "Mylo's laughing. He's... he's saying it's my fault. That I killed them."

"Jinx," you say, stepping toward her, but she flinches away.

"Don't," she says, her voice breaking. "Just... don't."

Her breathing grows more erratic, and you realize she's spiraling.

"Hey," you say gently, trying to ground her. "Look at me. Just focus on me."

She doesn't respond. Instead, she sinks to the floor, her hands still clutching her head as she rocks back and forth.

You crouch in front of her, keeping a safe distance but close enough that she can see you.

"You're safe," you say softly. "No one's here but me."

She shakes her head violently, tears streaming down her face.

"You don't see them," she whispers. "But they're here. They're always here."

Your heart aches at the sight of her like this—so raw, so broken. You want to reach out, to pull her into your arms, but you know she wouldn't let you.

"Jinx," you say gently. "I'm not leaving. Not now, not ever. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes flicker to yours, and for a moment, you think she might believe you.

But then she shakes her head again, her expression crumpling.

"You're lying," she says, her voice barely audible.

"I'm not," you insist, your voice firm but soft.

She doesn't respond. Instead, she curls into herself, her body trembling as she succumbs to the storm inside her mind.

You sit with her, not saying anything, just being there. It's all you can do.

Eventually, her breathing slows, and the tension in her body lessens. She looks up at you, her eyes red and puffy.

"You're still here," she says, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"I told you I wasn't leaving," you say.

She doesn't say anything, but the smallest hint of a smile flickers across her lips. It's fleeting, barely there, but it's enough.

For now, it's enough.

——

The weight of Silco's orders hangs over you like a storm cloud, pressing down on your shoulders. Missions for him always carry that suffocating weight, but this time, it's different. This time, Jinx is watching you pack your gear with a tight jaw and clenched fists, her manic energy contained, barely.

"You're still going, huh?" Her voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and accusing.

You don't look up right away. You've learned how to handle Jinx when she's on edge: keep your movements steady, your voice calm. Treat her like the volatile bomb she is.

"Silco needs me," you say, buckling the strap on your holster.

"Of course he does," she spits, pacing the room. Her braids whip behind her like restless snakes. "He always needs something. And you just go running off to do it, like a good little—"

"Stop," you cut her off, your tone firmer than intended. You turn to face her, taking in the wild look in her eyes. "It's not like that."

She laughs bitterly, her head tilting in that way that makes her look almost unhinged.

"Not like what? Like you're leaving? Like you're walking out the door just like everyone else?"

Her words hit their mark, sinking deep into the part of you that has no defense against her. Jinx isn't just angry; she's scared. And scared Jinx is the hardest to reach.

"I'll be back," you say softly, stepping closer. "You know I will."

But she shakes her head, her fingers twitching at her sides. "No, you won't. You'll die, or you'll forget, or you'll—" She chokes on her words, her voice rising. "You'll leave, just like Mylo, like Clogger, like—"

She stops abruptly, biting down on her lip so hard it looks like she might draw blood. Her arms cross over her chest, her fingers digging into her skin.

"Jinx," you say carefully, reaching out.

"Don't." She pulls back, her movements sharp and jagged. "Don't try to fix me. I'm not your problem."

You exhale slowly, dropping your hand. "I never said you were a problem."

She doesn't answer. Instead, she turns away, her posture screaming tension. You know better than to push her when she's like this. Instead, you gather the last of your gear and head for the door.

"I'll be back," you repeat, glancing over your shoulder.

But she doesn't look at you.

The mission should've been easy. A simple retrieval, in and out. But Silco's presence complicates everything, his sharp eyes watching your every move.

"You seem distracted," he says as the two of you wait for the contact to arrive.

"I'm focused," you reply, your voice flat.

"Are you?" His tone is cutting, laced with doubt. "Because distraction leads to mistakes. And mistakes lead to... consequences."

You clench your jaw, keeping your gaze fixed ahead. Silco knows how to dig under your skin, but you won't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Jinx will need someone to keep her in line while you're gone," he continues. "Someone who isn't swayed by her... theatrics."

Your fists tighten, but you force yourself to stay calm. "Jinx doesn't need a babysitter. She's capable."

Silco chuckles, low and cold. "Capable of chaos, perhaps. But control? That's another matter entirely."

The words stick with you even as the mission unfolds. Silco doesn't trust Jinx—not fully. And maybe he's right not to. But it doesn't change the fact that she's your responsibility, and leaving her behind feels like betrayal.

The mission itself is uneventful, but your mind isn't on the task. It's on Jinx, on the way her voice cracked when she spoke about Mylo and Clogger. She never talks about them—not directly. And when she does, it's always laced with venom or deflection. But there was something different this time, something raw.

When you return to the hideout, the air feels heavy, electric. You find Jinx in her workshop, surrounded by half-finished gadgets and the remnants of some explosive experiment. Her back is to you, her shoulders tense.

"Jinx," you say softly, stepping inside.

She doesn't turn around. "You're back," she says, her voice flat.

"I told you I would be."

She snorts, but there's no humor in it. "Congratulations. You're not dead. Want a medal?"

You approach slowly, careful not to crowd her. "You're angry."

"No shit." She spins around, her eyes blazing. "You left. Just like I said you would."

"I came back," you counter, keeping your tone steady.

She shakes her head, her braids whipping around her. "Yeah, this time. But what about next time? Or the time after that? How long until you don't?"

Her words cut deep, but you don't let it show. Instead, you step closer, closing the distance between you.

"Jinx," you say softly, "I'm not going anywhere. Not for good."

She laughs, harsh and bitter. "That's what they all said."

There's a long silence, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. Then, suddenly, she deflates, sinking down onto the edge of her workbench.

"Mylo and Clogger," she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "They... they didn't leave. Not really."

You sit beside her, careful not to touch her. "What happened?" you ask gently.

She doesn't answer right away. Instead, she stares down at her hands, her fingers twisting together.

"It was my fault," she says finally, her voice trembling. "I... I thought I was helping. I wanted to help. But everything went wrong, and they..." She trails off, her breath hitching.

Your chest tightens, but you don't interrupt.

"They were my family," she continues, her voice barely audible. "And I... I destroyed them."

Her words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. You want to say something, to reassure her, but you know it won't help. Not now.

"It wasn't your fault," you say finally, your voice soft but firm.

She shakes her head, her fists clenching. "You don't know that."

"I know you," you reply. "And I know you'd never hurt them on purpose."

She looks at you then, her chaotic eyes searching yours for something she can't quite name. For a moment, she looks almost fragile, her usual manic energy stripped away.

But the moment passes, and she pulls back, her walls snapping back into place.

"Whatever," she mutters, standing up and turning away. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me," you say, standing as well.

She doesn't respond, her attention already back on her gadgets. But you catch the slight tremble in her hands, the way her shoulders hunch forward.

You leave the workshop, but her words linger in your mind. Jinx might not trust you—not fully—but you're determined to prove her wrong.

You just hope you have the time to.

——

The door to Jinx's workshop creaks open, and the chaos inside spills out in waves. The air is thick with the acrid tang of burnt metal and the faint scent of gunpowder. A dozen half-finished contraptions litter the space, wires tangled like spiderwebs, blinking lights flashing erratically. Jinx is at the center of it all, hunched over a workbench. Her shoulders are tight, her wild blue braids spilling down her back, a storm waiting to break.

You step inside cautiously, keeping your movements measured, as if you might spook her.

"Jinx," you say softly, your voice just loud enough to carry over the clinking of tools against metal.

She doesn't look up. Her hands move in sharp, jittery motions, tightening screws and adjusting wires. Her energy is manic, her focus razor-sharp but teetering on the edge of frenzy.

"Busy," she mutters, the word clipped.

You hesitate, glancing around the room. It's a minefield of broken ideas, abandoned projects, and raw frustration. You've seen her like this before, spiraling deeper into her work as a way to escape whatever storm is raging in her mind. But this time, it feels worse.

"I noticed," you reply carefully, stepping closer.

Her hand slips, and the wrench she's holding clatters to the ground. She curses under her breath, grabbing it with a shaking hand.

"Why are you here?" she snaps, finally looking up at you. Her eyes are wild, electric blue irises practically glowing against her pale skin.

"Because I'm worried about you," you admit, leaning against the edge of the workbench.

She barks out a laugh, sharp and humorless. "Worried? About me? That's rich."

"Why is that rich?" you ask, your tone steady.

"Because I'm fine," she says, her voice rising. "I don't need you—don't need anyone—telling me what I am or how I feel."

"Jinx."

Her name leaves your lips softly, but it's enough to make her pause. She turns away, grabbing a device from the table. It's incomplete, a mass of wires and gears with no clear purpose, but she clutches it like it's a lifeline.

"You don't get it," she mutters, her voice cracking. "You'll never get it."

"Then help me understand," you say, stepping closer.

She spins around, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. "Understand what? That my brain is broken? That I see things that aren't there? That I hear them—hear him—every damn day?" Her voice breaks, and for a moment, she looks like she might shatter.

Your heart twists painfully at her words, but you don't move. Not yet.

"It's not just in my head," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's everywhere. All the time. And I can't—" She chokes on the words, her hands trembling.

You take the final step toward her, closing the space between you. She flinches when your hand brushes hers, but she doesn't pull away.

"You're not alone," you say softly.

She looks up at you, her chaotic eyes brimming with something you can't quite name. For a moment, she's silent, her lips parted as if she wants to say something. Then, suddenly, she lashes out, shoving you back with more strength than you expected.

"Stop it!" she yells, her voice raw. "Stop pretending you care! You don't! No one does!"

You stumble but catch yourself quickly, your hands raised in a gesture of peace. "I do care," you say firmly. "More than you realize."

She shakes her head violently, her braids whipping around her. "You're lying. You'll leave, just like everyone else. Just like Mylo and Clogger. Just like—"

Her voice cracks, and she cuts herself off, her hands flying to her head. She claws at her scalp, her breathing ragged.

"Jinx," you say gently, stepping closer again.

"Go away," she mutters, her voice muffled. "Go away, go away, go away..."

Instead of listening, you reach out and place a hand on her shoulder. She stiffens under your touch but doesn't pull away.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say softly.

She lets out a shuddering breath, her hands dropping to her sides. When she looks at you again, her eyes are glassy, her expression a mixture of anger, fear, and something achingly vulnerable.

"I don't know how to stop it," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitate for only a moment before pulling her into a gentle embrace. She goes rigid in your arms, but you don't let go.

"It's okay," you murmur. "You don't have to do it alone."

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, you think she might push you away again. But then she relaxes, her forehead resting against your shoulder.

"I see them," she whispers. "Everywhere. Mylo, Clogger... they won't leave me alone."

You tighten your hold on her, your heart aching at the pain in her voice.

"They're not here," you say gently. "It's just us."

She nods faintly, her hands clutching at your jacket. "I know that. I do. But it doesn't stop. I can still hear them. Mylo... he's always yelling at me, telling me I messed up. That it's my fault."

"It's not your fault," you say firmly.

Her laugh is bitter, hollow. "You don't know that."

"I know you," you reply, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. "And I know you wouldn't hurt the people you care about. Not on purpose."

She doesn't say anything, her chaotic eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. Then, slowly, she leans into you again, her face buried in your shoulder.

"Why are you still here?" she asks, her voice muffled.

"Because you matter to me," you say simply.

She doesn't respond, but you feel the faintest nod against your shoulder.

You hold her like that for what feels like hours, the chaos of her workshop fading into the background. For the first time in what feels like forever, Jinx is still, her breathing even and steady.

Eventually, she pulls back but not fully, her expression unreadable.

"I'm not fixed," she says quietly.

"I don't expect you to be," you reply.

She nods slowly, her hands fidgeting at her sides. "I don't know how to... trust this. Trust you."

"That's okay," you say. "We'll figure it out."

She looks at you for a long moment before nodding again. "Okay."

You don't let go. Not yet.

Your arms stay firmly around her, a protective barrier against the chaos that constantly claws at her mind. She's still, for once, her breathing slow and uneven against your chest. It's not perfect—there's still a tension in her, like a coiled spring waiting to snap—but it's enough to feel her warmth, her presence, grounded in reality.

She doesn't pull away this time, doesn't shove or scream or lash out. Instead, she lets herself lean against you, the weight of her body pressing into yours like she's testing how much you're willing to hold. You can feel the faint tremble in her shoulders, the kind of trembling that comes from holding it all in for far too long.

"You're quiet," you say softly, the words gentle.

Jinx lets out a shaky breath that's almost a laugh, though there's no humor in it. "Don't get used to it."

A small smile tugs at your lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Her hands twitch at her sides like she doesn't know what to do with them. Slowly, tentatively, she grips the fabric of your jacket. It's not much, but it feels monumental, like the first crack in a wall she's spent years building.

"I don't... I don't want to lose it," she murmurs, so softly you almost don't catch it.

"Lose what?" you ask gently, though you think you already know the answer.

"This," she says, her voice fragile. "The quiet. The... you."

Her words hit you harder than you expect. You tighten your arms around her just slightly, as if to reassure her you're still here, still solid, still real.

"You're not going to lose me, Jinx," you say firmly.

She snorts, though it's weak. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I don't make promises lightly," you counter, your voice steady.

She pulls back just enough to look up at you, her chaotic eyes studying your face. There's skepticism there, but also something softer—something that looks dangerously close to hope.

"You're weird," she mutters, though there's no venom in it.

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," you reply with a faint smirk.

Her lips twitch, almost like she's trying not to smile, and for a moment, the tension eases. But then her gaze drops, and the vulnerability creeps back in.

"It's not always going to be like this," she says quietly. "Sometimes I'm... worse."

You nod, your expression soft but serious. "I know."

Her fingers tighten in your jacket. "I'll scare you off eventually."

"You haven't yet."

She blinks up at you, like she's trying to figure out if you're lying. When she doesn't find any deceit, she huffs and leans her forehead back against your chest.

"You're stubborn," she mutters.

"Takes one to know one," you reply, your tone light.

That earns you a faint chuckle, and you feel a flicker of relief. It's small, but it's there—a spark of something lighter amidst the darkness.

For a while, neither of you speak. The sounds of Zaun hum faintly in the distance, but here, in the quiet of her workshop, it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you.

Her breathing evens out slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing bit by bit. When she finally speaks again, her voice is so soft you almost don't hear it.

"I used to think... if I could just fix everything, it would stop."

You glance down at her, your brow furrowing. "Fix what?"

She doesn't answer right away. Her fingers tighten in your jacket again, and her head tilts slightly, like she's looking at something far away.

"Everything I broke," she says finally. "Everything I ruined."

"Jinx..."

She shakes her head, cutting you off. "But it doesn't work like that, does it? You can't... fix people. You can't bring them back."

Her voice cracks on the last word, and you feel your chest tighten. You want to say something, anything, to take away the weight of her guilt, but you know better than to rush this.

"No," you say softly. "You can't bring them back. But you can keep moving forward."

She snorts again, though this time it's bitter. "Forward to what?"

"To something better," you say firmly. "It's not easy, and it's not quick, but it's possible."

She's quiet for a long moment, her gaze distant. Then, finally, she sighs and leans more heavily against you.

"You make it sound simple," she mutters.

"It's not," you admit. "But you're not alone in it. I'm here."

Her grip on your jacket tightens one last time before she lets out a long, shaky breath. "You're an idiot," she says, though her tone is softer now.

"Maybe," you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

She doesn't argue, doesn't push you away or lash out. Instead, she stays where she is, her head resting against your chest, her breathing slow and steady.

For the first time, you feel like you've found a crack in the armor she wears so tightly. It's small, and fragile, but it's there. And as you hold her close, you promise yourself that you won't let her face her darkness alone—not now, not ever.

—-

It starts with Silco.

His words are sharp, clipped, and laced with the kind of disappointment you've grown used to hearing in Zaun but never from him. Not like this. He paces the dimly lit room in deliberate, measured steps, the faint glow of Shimmer swirling in the vials on his desk casting long shadows across his face.

"I don't need to remind you of your responsibilities, do I?" he says, his tone cold.

"No, sir," you reply evenly, though you don't miss the edge in his voice.

Silco turns, his single good eye boring into yours. "Then why is it that your focus seems... divided as of late?"

You remain still, your hands clasped behind your back. He's testing you, pushing to see how much you'll reveal, but you're not about to falter.

"I've handled every mission you've given me," you say. "Successfully."

"Barely," he snaps, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "And with unnecessary complications."

You don't flinch, but his words sink deep. You know exactly what he's referring to. Jinx. Every time you've stepped in to steady her, to keep her grounded, you've found yourself veering further from the clear-cut paths Silco sets before you.

"Her instability is jeopardizing everything we've built," Silco continues, his voice low but seething. "And your... attachment isn't helping."

The accusation hits harder than you'd like to admit, but you keep your expression neutral.

"She's your daughter," you say carefully. "You care about her too."

Silco pauses, his good eye narrowing. "Don't mistake my patience for indulgence. Jinx needs control. Not coddling."

"She doesn't need control," you counter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "She needs support."

Silco's silence is deafening. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet but no less dangerous.

"Remember your place."

The words hang in the air long after you leave his office.

You find Jinx in her workshop, hunched over a partially dismantled grenade. The space is chaotic as always, cluttered with half-finished inventions, scattered tools, and the faint smell of smoke and oil. Her fingers work deftly, twisting a wire here, tightening a screw there, but there's a tension in her movements you haven't seen before.

"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside.

She doesn't look up. "Don't need a babysitter."

You ignore the jab and move closer, leaning against the edge of her cluttered table. "Rough day?"

Her laugh is sharp, bitter. "What day isn't?"

You don't answer, instead letting the silence settle between you. Jinx's hands slow, her gaze flicking toward you briefly before returning to her work.

"Silco pissed at you again?" she asks, her tone casual but her shoulders tight.

"Nothing new," you reply. "He thinks I'm too soft on you."

That gets her attention. Her hands still, and she finally looks up at you, her chaotic eyes narrowing.

"Maybe he's right," she says, though there's no conviction in her voice.

"I don't think so."

She scoffs, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "Yeah, well, you don't know everything."

"Maybe not," you admit, "but I know you're not as far gone as you think you are."

Her expression flickers—just for a moment—and then she looks away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

"Why do you even care?" she mutters.

"Because I see you," you say simply.

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you think she might let them sink in. But then her gaze sharpens, and the walls come back up.

"Don't," she snaps, her voice rising. "Don't act like you know me."

"I'm not trying to," you reply, keeping your voice calm. "But I want to."

Her chair scrapes against the floor as she stands abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. Her fingers tug at her braids, her breathing quickening.

"You shouldn't," she says, her voice wavering. "I'll just... screw it up. Like I always do."

"Jinx—"

"They were right!" she shouts, cutting you off. Her hands fly to her temples, pressing hard against her skull. "They were all right! I ruin everything!"

The shift is sudden, and it's like a storm crashing through her. Her breaths turn shallow, erratic, and her eyes dart around the room like she's searching for something—or someone—that isn't there.

"No, no, no," she mutters under her breath, her voice trembling. "Shut up. Shut up."

You step toward her cautiously, your hands raised in a calming gesture. "Jinx, it's okay. You're safe."

She doesn't hear you. Her gaze locks onto an empty corner of the room, her body going rigid.

"It's your fault!" she suddenly screams, her voice cracking. "You ruined everything!"

Your heart sinks as you realize what's happening. She's not talking to you. She's talking to him—Mylo.

"Stop it," she begs, her voice breaking. "Just stop!"

She stumbles back, her hands clutching at her head, and you rush forward without hesitation.

"Jinx!" you say firmly, grabbing her wrists.

She thrashes against you, her strength catching you off guard. But you don't let go.

"Look at me!" you command, your voice steady.

Her wild, tear-filled eyes snap to yours, and for a brief moment, you see it—the raw, unfiltered pain she's been carrying all this time.

"He's not here," you say gently but firmly. "He's not real."

Her breathing is ragged, her chest heaving as she stares at you. Slowly, her struggles lessen, her body sagging against yours.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to... I didn't..."

"I know," you say softly, pulling her into your arms. "I know."

She doesn't fight you this time. Instead, she clings to you like a lifeline, her sobs muffled against your shoulder.

You hold her tightly, your hand running soothingly over her back. "You're okay," you murmur. "I've got you."

Her fingers clutch at your shirt, her breaths hitching as she tries to steady herself. It's a long time before she speaks again.

"They're always there," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mylo, Claggor... They never leave."

Her admission is raw, and it hits you like a punch to the gut.

"I know it feels like that," you say softly. "But they're not here, Jinx. They're not here to hurt you anymore."

Her grip on you tightens. "But I see them. I hear them. How do I... How do I make it stop?"

You don't have an answer for that. Instead, you pull back just enough to look at her, your hands gently cupping her face.

"You're not alone," you say firmly. "We'll figure it out together."

Her gaze searches yours, her expression a mixture of fear and longing. "You mean that?"

"Every word," you reply without hesitation.

Her lips tremble, and for a moment, you think she might push you away again. But then she nods, her forehead resting against yours.

"Don't leave," she whispers.

"I won't," you promise.

And this time, she believes you.

—-

The air feels heavier tonight, charged with an almost electric tension. You make your way to Jinx's workshop, your footsteps echoing faintly in the abandoned hallways of Silco's stronghold. There's something about the silence that sets you on edge, and you tighten your grip on the first-aid kit you're carrying.

Jinx has been spiraling for days. Silco noticed, and so did you. The missions have gotten sloppier, her creations more volatile, her grip on reality shakier. The cracks you've glimpsed in her armor are now wide and jagged, and she's doing everything in her power to hold the pieces together.

When you reach her door, you knock lightly. "Jinx?"

No response.

You hesitate, then push the door open.

The sight that greets you is pure chaos. The workshop looks like a hurricane tore through it—tools scattered across the floor, half-finished inventions shattered, scorch marks streaking the walls. In the middle of it all stands Jinx, her wild blue braids whipping as she spins around, muttering under her breath. Her hands twitch as if she's gripping invisible weapons, and her chaotic eyes dart between shadows only she can see.

"Jinx," you say softly, stepping inside.

Her head snaps toward you, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she just stares, and you think she might let you approach. But then her face twists into something unrecognizable—fear, anger, betrayal.

"Get out!" she screams, grabbing a wrench from the table and hurling it in your direction.

You duck just in time, the wrench clanging against the doorframe behind you. "Jinx, it's me!"

"I know who you are!" she yells, her voice shaking. "You're just like the rest of them! You're gonna leave me too!"

Her words cut deeper than you'd like to admit. You've seen her like this before, but tonight it feels different—darker, more dangerous.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say firmly, stepping closer despite her warning glare. "You know that."

She laughs, a bitter, unhinged sound that sends a chill down your spine. "No, I don't! Nobody stays. Not Mylo, not Claggor, not even Silco! Everyone leaves!"

"I'm still here," you remind her, your voice calm but steady.

Her hands fly to her head, fingers digging into her scalp as she paces frantically. "Shut up. Shut up! You don't know anything!"

"I know you're hurting," you say gently, taking another step forward. "And I know you're scared."

"Stop it!" she snaps, whirling around to face you. Her eyes are wild, glistening with unshed tears. "Don't act like you care!"

"I do care," you say, your voice breaking slightly despite your best efforts. "More than you realize."

That stops her in her tracks. For a moment, she just stares at you, her chest heaving, her expression caught between disbelief and confusion.

"You... care?" she repeats, the words barely a whisper.

"Yes," you admit, your heart pounding. "I care about you, Jinx. More than I should."

Her lips tremble, and for a fleeting moment, you see something in her eyes—hope, maybe, or longing. But then it's gone, replaced by anger and fear.

"Don't lie to me!" she shouts, backing away from you. "You're just saying that to make me stop. You don't mean it!"

"I do," you insist, your voice firm. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

She shakes her head violently, her braids whipping around her. "You're lying. You're lying!"

"Jinx, look at me," you say, stepping closer.

"No!" she screams, grabbing a makeshift bomb from the table and hurling it in your direction.

You barely have time to react, diving to the side as the bomb explodes, sending shards of metal and sparks flying. The heat singes your arm, but you grit your teeth and push yourself to your feet.

"Enough!" you shout, your voice ringing out over the chaos.

Jinx freezes, her chest heaving as she stares at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"This isn't you," you say, your voice softer now. "This isn't who you are."

"How would you know?" she whispers, her voice trembling. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough," you say, stepping closer. "I know you're not as broken as you think you are. I know you're not alone, no matter how much it feels like it."

Her bottom lip quivers, and for a moment, you think she might let you in. But then she shakes her head, her walls snapping back into place.

"Go away," she says, her voice barely audible.

"No," you say firmly. "I'm not leaving you like this."

She glares at you, her chaotic eyes narrowing. "Why do you even care?"

"Because I see you," you say simply.

Her breath catches, and for a moment, the room is silent except for the sound of her ragged breathing.

"You don't want this," she says finally, her voice shaking. "You don't want me."

"You're wrong," you say, stepping closer until you're standing right in front of her. "I do."

Her eyes search yours, looking for any sign of a lie. But you hold her gaze, your expression open and honest.

Slowly, her shoulders slump, and the wrench she's been clutching slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

"I don't know how to... do this," she admits, her voice barely a whisper.

"You don't have to do it alone," you say gently, reaching out to brush a strand of blue hair from her face.

For a moment, she leans into your touch, her eyes closing as if she's savoring the rare moment of peace. But then she pulls back, her expression guarded once more.

"I don't trust you," she says, her voice trembling.

"I know," you say softly. "But I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes fill with tears, and she looks away, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"I want to believe you," she whispers. "But I can't."

"Then let me prove it to you," you say, your voice steady.

You hold her gaze, waiting for her response, but instead of speaking, Jinx's chaotic eyes dart to your lips, lingering for a split second too long. It's a moment suspended in tension, charged and fragile, as if the entire world has narrowed to just the two of you. Her hands tremble at her sides, her breathing uneven, and you can feel the push-and-pull inside her—fear, anger, longing, all battling for control.

Without thinking, without weighing the consequences, you close the gap between you.

Your lips meet hers in a kiss that is fierce and unyielding, a raw and desperate collision that silences every protest, every doubt. For a heartbeat, Jinx doesn't move, her body frozen in surprise. But then she responds, her hands tangling in the front of your shirt as she kisses you back with a fervor that takes your breath away.

You guide her back toward the desk, her steps stumbling as you deepen the kiss. The edge of the table catches her, and she gasps softly, her lips parting beneath yours. You take the opportunity to explore further, your hands gripping her waist, her warmth against your palms grounding you even as everything around you feels like it's spinning.

Jinx lets out a noise that's halfway between a whimper and a growl, pulling you closer as if she's afraid you'll vanish if she lets go. Her fingers twist in your shirt, and she arches against you, her wild energy meeting the steady resolve in your touch. The chaos that so often defines her seems to quiet, just for this moment, as if you're the calm in her storm.

The desk digs into her back, and she shifts, half-sitting on its edge as you press into her space. One of her hands slides up to your face, her fingers tracing your jawline with surprising gentleness. When she pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes are wide, her expression a mix of vulnerability and something you can only describe as hunger.

"Why?" she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why would you—?"

"Because I see you," you murmur against her lips, brushing a stray strand of blue hair from her face. "All of you. And I'm not scared of what I see."

Her breath catches, her lips parting as if to say something, but the words never come. Instead, she surges forward, kissing you again with a ferocity that leaves no room for hesitation. Her hands are everywhere now—clutching at your shoulders, pulling you closer, her nails scraping lightly against the nape of your neck.

The desk creaks beneath her as she shifts, one leg hooking around your hip to pull you flush against her. The movement sends a shiver down your spine, and your grip on her waist tightens. Jinx's chaotic energy courses through her every movement, her every touch, but there's something else too—something softer, more fragile.

When she finally breaks the kiss, her forehead rests against yours, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she catches her breath. "I'm a mess," she whispers, her voice trembling.

"So am I," you admit, your hands still steady on her waist. "But I'm not running."

Her eyes search yours, looking for the lie, the trap, but all she finds is the truth. Her lips press into a thin line, her hands tightening their grip on your shirt.

"I don't know how to let people stay," she murmurs, her voice cracking. "I ruin everything."

"You didn't ruin this," you say softly, tilting her chin so she meets your gaze. "Not yet, anyway."

She snorts at that, the faintest flicker of a smile crossing her lips before it's gone. Her eyes glisten, and for a moment, she looks so small, so lost, that it makes your heart ache.

"I'm scared," she admits, the words barely audible.

"I know," you say, brushing your thumb across her cheek. "But I'm here, Jinx. And I'm not going anywhere."

—-

The workshop is unusually quiet when you find her.

Jinx is hunched over on the floor, surrounded by broken tools, scraps of metal, and shattered glass. Her hands clutch her head, fingers tugging at her braids like she's trying to pull her own thoughts out. Her breathing is ragged, her shoulders trembling with the effort to hold herself together.

You freeze in the doorway, watching her. She hasn't noticed you yet, too consumed by whatever battle rages inside her mind.

"Jinx," you call softly, stepping into the room.

Her head snaps up at the sound of your voice, her chaotic eyes wide and wild. She looks at you like she doesn't know whether to run or attack.

"What are you doing here?" she snarls, her voice sharp and brittle. "Go away."

"Not a chance." You crouch down a few feet away, keeping your tone calm, steady. "Talk to me, Jinx. What's going on?"

She laughs, a harsh, hollow sound. "What's going on?" she repeats, her voice climbing in pitch. "What's going on is that I'm losing my mind. Again. Always. Forever."

She springs to her feet, pacing the room in frantic circles, her movements erratic and jittery. "They won't shut up," she mutters, her hands tugging at her hair. "Mylo, Clogger—they just keep yelling and yelling, and I can't—I can't make it stop!"

Your heart clenches at the desperation in her voice. You've seen her manic before, but this... this is different. She's spiraling, slipping further and further away from reality.

"Jinx, stop." You stand, moving to block her path. She tries to shove past you, but you catch her wrists, holding her firmly but gently. "Breathe. Just breathe."

"Don't tell me to breathe!" she snaps, struggling against your grip. "You don't get it! You don't—"

"I don't," you admit, cutting her off. "I don't get it. But I'm here. And I'm not leaving."

Her eyes flicker with something unreadable, a mix of anger, fear, and a vulnerability she's too proud to name. For a moment, she stops fighting, her arms going limp in your grasp. But then she looks away, her jaw tightening.

"I ruin everything," she mutters, her voice barely audible. "Everyone's better off without me."

"No, they're not," you say firmly, releasing her wrists to cup her face. She flinches but doesn't pull away. "You're not alone, Jinx. You've got me."

She blinks up at you, her chaotic energy flickering like a dying flame. "Why do you even care?" she asks, her voice cracking. "I'm broken. You can't fix me."

"I'm not trying to fix you," you say softly, brushing a thumb across her cheek. "I just want to help you carry it."

Her lower lip trembles, and for a moment, you think she might let you in. But then her face crumples, and she shoves you away with surprising force.

"You can't!" she screams, grabbing a jagged shard of metal from the floor. "I can't—" Her voice breaks, and she raises the shard, aiming it toward herself.

Your blood runs cold. "Jinx, stop!"

Before she can do anything, you're on her, wrestling the shard out of her hands. She fights you, screaming and thrashing, but you hold on, refusing to let her go.

"Let me go!" she cries, her voice raw with desperation. "I just want it to stop! Please, make it stop!"

"Jinx, look at me!" you shout, gripping her shoulders. Her wide, tear-streaked eyes finally meet yours, and you soften your voice. "I'm here. I've got you. You're not alone."

She collapses against you, her sobs wracking her body as she clings to your shirt like it's the only thing keeping her grounded. You hold her tightly, your heart breaking at the weight of her pain.

"It's okay," you murmur, stroking her hair. "I've got you."

For a long time, the only sound in the room is her ragged breathing and the quiet hum of machinery in the background. Slowly, her sobs subside, and she lifts her head to look at you. Her face is a mess of tears and mascara, her lips trembling as she searches your eyes for something—reassurance, hope, anything to hold onto.

"You're really not gonna leave, are you?" she whispers.

"Never," you promise, your voice steady and sure.

She stares at you for a long moment, and then, with a sudden, desperate urgency, she kisses you.

It's not soft or tentative—it's wild and sloppy, all teeth and desperation, like she's trying to pour every ounce of her pain and longing into the act. Her hands grip your shoulders, pulling you closer, her body pressed against yours as if she's afraid you'll disappear if she lets go.

You freeze for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of it. But then you kiss her back, matching her desperation with your own quiet resolve. Your hands cradle her face, anchoring her as her lips move against yours, her breath hot and uneven.

When she finally pulls back, her eyes are wide, her lips swollen from the force of the kiss. "I—I'm sorry," she stammers, her voice shaking. "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't apologize," you interrupt, your thumb brushing against her cheek. "You don't have to apologize for feeling, Jinx."

She looks at you, her expression raw and vulnerable, and for the first time, you see her walls start to crack. The chaos in her eyes dims, just a little, as she leans her forehead against yours.

"I'm scared," she whispers.

"I know," you say, your voice soft but firm. "But you don't have to face it alone. I'm here, Jinx. And I'm not going anywhere."

She doesn't respond, but the way she clings to you—her fingers tangled in your shirt, her body trembling against yours—tells you everything you need to know.

The tension in the room lingers, thick and heavy, even after Jinx finally lets go of your shirt. Her hands twitch at her sides, her fingers curling and uncurling like she's still fighting the storm inside her head. You don't let her drift too far, though. Instead, you take her hand gently, guiding her toward the couch shoved into the far corner of her chaotic workshop.

"C'mon," you say softly, your voice a quiet anchor. "Let's take a break. Just you and me."

Her eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering across her face. "A break? From what? The voices? The chaos? Good luck with that," she mutters, but she doesn't resist when you lead her to sit down.

"Not from all that," you admit, grabbing a dusty throw blanket from the back of the couch and shaking it out. "But from fighting it alone. Let me help, yeah?"

Jinx doesn't respond immediately, her gaze darting around the room like she's waiting for something to shatter. But then she slumps onto the couch, her sharp edges softening just a bit. "What's the plan, then?" she asks, her tone laced with hesitant sarcasm. "You gonna tell me bedtime stories?"

"Not quite," you reply with a small smile, moving toward the small kitchenette tucked into the corner. You rummage through the mismatched cabinets, finding a couple of mugs and a tin of cocoa powder you're not entirely sure is still good. But hey, it's worth a shot.

Behind you, Jinx mumbles something unintelligible, probably a snarky comment about how ridiculous you look playing house in her workshop. You glance over your shoulder to find her curled up on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest, the blanket draped haphazardly over her lap. She's watching you, her chaotic energy still present but dimmed, like a fire that's finally burned low.

You heat the milk on a portable burner, stirring in the cocoa until the rich scent fills the air. "Almost done," you say, glancing her way again. "Be patient."

"Patience isn't exactly my thing," she mutters, but there's a flicker of curiosity in her expression as she watches you work.

When the cocoa is ready, you pour it into two mismatched mugs and carry them over to the couch. "Here," you say, handing one to her. "Careful, it's hot."

Jinx takes the mug, eyeing it warily before taking a tentative sip. Her nose wrinkles, but she doesn't spit it out, which you take as a win. "Not bad," she admits grudgingly.

You settle onto the couch beside her, the warmth of your own mug seeping into your hands. "See? Not everything has to be chaos."

She snorts, a quiet, almost amused sound, but doesn't argue. Instead, she sips her cocoa in silence, her gaze fixed on some indeterminate point in the room.

After a few moments, you lean forward, grabbing a remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the small, ancient TV shoved against the wall. "How about a movie?" you suggest, flipping through the limited options on the player. "Something mindless. Funny, maybe."

Jinx arches an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a faint smirk. "You really think I'm the rom-com type?"

"Not in the slightest," you reply with a chuckle, finally settling on an action-comedy you think she might enjoy. The opening credits roll, the screen lighting up with a colorful explosion, and you sink back into the couch.

To your surprise, Jinx relaxes too. She pulls the blanket tighter around her, her feet tucked beneath her, and sips her cocoa as the movie plays. Her fingers drum lightly against the mug, keeping time with the upbeat soundtrack, and for the first time in what feels like hours, she seems... calm.

About halfway through the movie, she shifts, leaning slightly toward you. It's subtle, barely noticeable, but you feel the weight of her head resting lightly against your shoulder.

"You okay?" you ask softly, turning your head to glance at her.

She doesn't look at you, her eyes fixed on the screen. "Don't make it weird," she mumbles, but there's no bite in her words.

You smile to yourself, adjusting your position so she can lean more comfortably against you. The warmth of her presence, the quiet intimacy of the moment, fills the room like a balm against the lingering chaos.

As the movie progresses, you occasionally catch her muttering comments about the plot or the characters, her sharp wit cutting through the action with surprising clarity. You laugh along with her, grateful for the sound of her voice when it's not tinged with panic or pain.

By the time the credits roll, Jinx is half-asleep against your shoulder, her mug forgotten on the table. Her breathing is steady, her body relaxed in a way you rarely see.

You don't move, not wanting to disturb her. Instead, you sit there in the quiet, watching her and marveling at the fragile peace that's settled over her. For now, it's enough.

——

The weight of Jinx against your shoulder is light, almost imperceptible, but you feel it all the same. Her breathing is slow, steady—a rare rhythm in the chaos that usually defines her. You're careful not to move too much, unwilling to disrupt this fragile moment of peace. The flickering light from the now-muted TV casts a soft glow across her pale face, accentuating the delicate lines of her features, the faint shadows beneath her eyes.

You shift your focus back to the room, letting your gaze wander over the cluttered space. Tools, half-finished projects, and scattered blueprints dominate every surface, but it all feels oddly comforting. Jinx's madness, chaotic as it is, has its own kind of charm—raw, untamed, and unapologetically her.

The sound of footsteps echoes faintly, and your heart sinks. You'd recognize the heavy, deliberate gait anywhere. Sevika.

The door creaks open, and sure enough, the towering woman steps in, her broad shoulders filling the narrow doorway. She's mid-sentence, clearly ready to bark orders or deliver some biting remark, but the words die on her lips the moment she spots you and Jinx on the couch.

Her dark eyes narrow, scanning the scene with a mix of suspicion and irritation. "What the hell is this?" she asks, her voice low and edged with steel.

You glance at her, keeping your movements slow so you don't disturb Jinx. "Keep your voice down," you murmur, a hint of warning in your tone. "She's finally asleep."

Sevika snorts, crossing her arms as she leans against the doorframe. "Didn't realize babysitting was part of your job description," she says, her gaze flicking to Jinx.

"It isn't," you reply evenly, meeting her stare without flinching. "But someone has to make sure she doesn't burn herself out."

Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she shifts her weight, her mechanical arm whirring softly as she adjusts her stance. "Silco's looking for you," she says after a moment. "You were supposed to report back hours ago."

"I'll handle it," you say, your voice calm but firm. "He can wait."

Sevika's eyes narrow further, her suspicion deepening. "You're getting too close," she says bluntly, her words laced with disapproval. "You think Silco's gonna let that slide?"

You feel a flicker of annoyance but keep your expression neutral. "This isn't about Silco," you say quietly, glancing down at Jinx. "It's about her. She needs someone right now, and I'm not walking away."

For a moment, Sevika doesn't respond. She just watches you, her gaze calculating. Finally, she exhales sharply, pushing off the doorframe. "Your funeral," she mutters, turning to leave.

Before she steps out, she pauses, her back to you. "She's dangerous, you know," she says without looking at you. "You think you're helping her, but you're just putting yourself in the crossfire."

You don't reply, and after a beat, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her.

The silence that follows is heavy, but you force yourself to let it go. Sevika's words linger in your mind, though, a quiet reminder of the tightrope you're walking.

Jinx stirs against your shoulder, her brow furrowing slightly as she murmurs something unintelligible. You shift slightly, adjusting the blanket around her, and her expression softens again, her breathing evening out.

You lean back, letting your head rest against the couch. Sevika's warning echoes in your mind, but you push it aside. Jinx isn't just a mission or a responsibility. She's a person—wild, broken, and complicated—but a person nonetheless. And for better or worse, you've decided to stick by her.

The minutes tick by, and slowly, your own tension begins to ebb. Jinx's presence, chaotic as it is, has a way of grounding you in the strangest of ways. You close your eyes, letting the quiet settle over you like a balm.

The soft hum of the TV fills the room, a muted backdrop to Jinx's even breathing. You glance at her again, her features softened in sleep. Despite the chaos she carries with her awake, there's a fragility to her now, like a porcelain figure perched on the edge of a shelf.

You stay still for a moment longer, debating your next move. She's deadweight against your shoulder, and as much as you'd rather not disturb her, she can't stay slumped like this all night. Gently, you brush a few strands of wild blue hair from her face and murmur, "Jinx."

She doesn't stir.

"Come on, trouble," you whisper softly, shifting slightly. "Let's get you to bed."

Still no response. You exhale quietly, carefully lifting her head off your shoulder and standing. As you straighten up, Jinx instinctively curls inward, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. A pang of something unfamiliar strikes you, but you push it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

It's not the first time you've had to carry her. Jinx has a habit of burning herself out, her energy depleting as quickly as it ignites. You lean down, sliding an arm under her knees and another behind her back. She's lighter than you'd expect—too light, really—but that's Jinx. All sharp edges and wiry strength.

Her head lolls against your shoulder as you straighten, and she mutters something under her breath, too quiet to make out. You carry her through the cluttered room, stepping carefully around discarded tools and scattered parts. The dim light of her room bathes everything in a faint blue hue, casting long shadows across the walls.

You nudge the door open with your foot and step inside, maneuvering toward her bed. It's just as chaotic as the rest of her space—blankets tangled, pillows haphazardly shoved into corners, and a collection of random trinkets scattered across the nightstand.

Carefully, you lower her onto the bed, trying not to jostle her too much. She stirs slightly, her brow furrowing as she mumbles something incomprehensible. You tug the blanket free from her grip, draping it over her.

"There," you murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "All set."

You straighten up, taking a step back, but as you do, her hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist with surprising strength.

"Don't," she mutters, her voice thick with sleep.

You pause, glancing down at her. "Jinx?"

Her eyes flutter open just enough to look at you, unfocused and hazy. She tightens her grip on your wrist, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't go."

The words hit you harder than you'd expect. There's a raw vulnerability in her tone, one that cuts through all the layers of bravado and chaos. For a moment, you don't know what to say.

"I'm not going far," you manage, your voice softer than usual. "I'll be right outside."

But she shakes her head weakly, her grip still firm. "Don't want you to go," she mumbles, her eyes already closing again. "Just... stay."

You hesitate, caught between duty and the weight of her words. Everything in you says this is a bad idea. Staying crosses a line, blurs boundaries that were already hazy at best. But then you look at her, and all of that logic falters.

"Alright," you say quietly, allowing her to tug you closer. "I'll stay."

She doesn't let go of your wrist, and you let her guide you down onto the bed. The mattress dips under your weight as you settle beside her, careful to keep some distance. But Jinx has other plans. She shifts closer, curling into your side like a stray cat seeking warmth.

Her head rests against your shoulder, her fingers still loosely gripping your wrist. You feel her breath against your neck, slow and steady, and it takes everything in you to ignore the heat creeping up your spine.

You lie still, staring up at the ceiling as the moments stretch on. The room is quiet, save for the faint hum of the TV in the other room and the soft rustle of blankets as Jinx shifts in her sleep.

For a while, you try to keep your thoughts in check. To focus on the here and now rather than the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. But it's impossible to ignore the weight of her against you, the way her fingers twitch slightly as if clinging to you even in sleep.

She murmurs something unintelligible again, her brow furrowing slightly. You glance down at her, watching as her expression shifts—traces of whatever she's dreaming about playing across her face.

"Hey," you whisper softly, your voice barely audible. "It's okay. I'm here."

Her features relax slightly, and you feel a strange sense of relief. You've seen Jinx in every state imaginable—manic, furious, broken—but this is different. This is raw, unfiltered vulnerability, and it's equal parts heartbreaking and disarming.

You reach up, hesitating for a moment before brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her skin is cool to the touch, her breathing steady against your neck.

"You're a lot, you know that?" you murmur, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But I guess I don't mind."

She doesn't respond, of course, but the tension in her body seems to ease slightly, her grip on your wrist loosening.

You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against the pillow. The room is still, the chaos of the day fading into the background. For the first time in what feels like forever, there's a sense of calm—a fleeting moment of peace in the eye of the storm.

And as you lie there, with Jinx curled against you and the weight of her trust settling heavily on your chest, you can't help but wonder if this is what she's been searching for all along.

Not perfection. Not absolution. Just someone willing to stay.

—-

The world outside is quieter than usual, the usual hum of Zaun's chaotic energy softened by a thick morning fog that lingers over the streets. The clatter of metal against metal, the steady clanging of gears, is still there, but it's distant, muted by the strange stillness that fills the space. For once, it feels like time has slowed down, and in this rare moment, a quiet peace settles over you like a soft blanket. You sit beside Jinx, her presence like a familiar storm you've learned to weather, only this time, the storm feels distant. The two of you are alone in a bubble, surrounded by the disarray of the hideout but somehow separated from the chaos of the world beyond.

There had been no room for moments like this before—this unexpected calm. The constant pressure from Silco, the ever-present anxiety, the madness that clings to Jinx like a second skin—everything had always been relentless. But today feels different. Maybe it's the soft light filtering through the cracks in the walls, casting a warm, golden hue across the disarray. Maybe it's the way the morning air feels, heavy with the promise of something different. Or maybe it's just the fact that neither of you have anywhere to be, no mission, no assignment, no fight. It's just this, just the two of you, sitting together in the stillness.

Jinx is perched on the worn couch, legs curled beneath her like a child trying to escape the weight of the world. Her wild blue braids spill over her shoulders, and the faintest traces of tattoos peek out from under the sleeves of her shirt. Her usual manic energy is subdued, softened by something more vulnerable, something closer to contentment. The room around you is as cluttered as always—papers, blueprints, tools scattered about like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be assembled—but there's a sense of calm now, a temporary reprieve from the chaos. The room feels different when it's quiet, when the constant hum of her mind isn't running at a thousand miles an hour.

You can't remember the last time you've had a moment like this, just sitting in silence, sharing space without the weight of expectation or duty pressing down on you. The silence between you doesn't feel uncomfortable, though. It's almost... soothing. There's no need for words, no need for anything but the simple rhythm of your breathing as you share this rare moment of peace.

Jinx glances at you out of the corner of her eye, her chaotic, unpredictable gaze locking with yours for just a moment before she quickly looks away, like she's unsure of what to do with the unexpected softness between you. For a while, she just stares ahead, her attention flitting from one object to the next, unable to settle. But then, without warning, her fingers brush against yours where they rest on the arm of the couch.

The touch is light at first, almost hesitant, as though she's not sure whether she should initiate contact or not. But it's there—her fingers grazing your skin like a delicate, almost imperceptible bridge being built between you. You don't pull away. You don't move. Instead, you slowly shift your hand closer, offering her the comfort she's asking for in the quietest way possible.

It's subtle. So subtle, you wonder if she even realizes what she's doing. But when her fingers slip into yours, it's as though a silent agreement has been made. She doesn't say anything, doesn't acknowledge the contact at all, but there's a softness in her touch that you've never felt before—a small sign that she's letting herself be vulnerable with you in a way that she never has.

Her hand is cold against yours, and it's a strange contrast to the warmth you feel creeping up your arm, settling in your chest. Jinx has always been a whirlwind, a storm that moves too fast for anyone to catch up with, but now, in this moment, she's still. And for a fleeting second, it feels like she's just a girl, someone who doesn't have to be anything other than who she is right now.

The minutes tick by, and you sit together in comfortable silence, your fingers intertwined. It's not an earth-shattering moment—it's a quiet one, but it feels significant. It's the kind of quiet that fills the space with meaning, the kind of moment that's rare in the life you and Jinx lead. She's not hyperactive, not lost in her own world of chaos, not making demands or lost in hallucinations. She's just here, with you, letting herself be still.

And then, as if the stillness is too much, Jinx shifts again. She moves closer, her head slowly lowering onto your shoulder, and for the first time in a long while, there's no urgency in her movements. She's not running away from something, not diving headfirst into another explosion of manic energy. She's just... there. She rests against you, the weight of her head against your shoulder grounding you both, and for a brief, fleeting moment, the outside world ceases to exist.

It's such a simple thing, but it feels monumental. You find yourself holding your breath, afraid that if you move, if you breathe too loudly, this fragile moment might shatter.

Her breathing is slow, steady, and for a moment, it feels like everything around you—the noise of Zaun, the pressure from Silco, the looming threats on all sides—doesn't matter. It's just the two of you in this small, quiet corner, sharing the comfort of simply being together.

After a while, Jinx shifts again, this time turning slightly so she's facing you, her wild blue eyes focused on your face with an intensity that feels both familiar and new. She's studying you, like she's trying to figure something out, trying to find an answer to a question that's been lingering in her mind for a while.

"Hey," she says softly, her voice low and hesitant, a rare softness in the way she speaks. It's the kind of voice you're not used to hearing from her. There's no energy behind it, no manic edge to her words—just a quiet, almost uncertain tone that makes you turn your head to look at her.

"What's up?" you ask, keeping your voice steady, even though you're not sure where this is going.

"I don't know," she mutters, her gaze darting away from yours for a brief second, as if the question is harder for her to ask than she thought. "Do you ever wish things were different?"

The question catches you off guard. You blink at her for a moment, unsure how to respond, because you weren't expecting it. It's a simple question, but it's loaded with so much unspoken meaning that it takes you a second to process.

"What do you mean?" you ask, carefully. You don't want to say the wrong thing.

Jinx shrugs, her fingers still lightly curled around yours. "You know, like... normal? Like we could just be normal people for once? Like maybe we could just... do normal stuff?" She trails off, and you can hear the uncertainty in her voice. "Like go outside, get some air, watch a movie, drink hot cocoa, or..." Her voice fades slightly, and you almost don't catch her next words. "Just... be happy. Without all the bad stuff."

You feel the weight of her words, the quiet vulnerability she's allowing herself to show. It's rare for Jinx to talk like this, to admit to the possibility that she might want something different from the chaos she's built her life around. You stare at her for a moment, taking it all in—the way she's exposing a side of herself she doesn't show anyone, the fear in her voice when she admits to wanting normalcy, to wanting peace.

"I know what you mean," you say, your voice soft. "I've wondered the same thing. About what it would be like, to not have to fight, to not have everything be so heavy all the time."

Jinx's lips curl up into the faintest of smiles, a small, almost imperceptible shift, but it's there. It's the softest thing you've ever seen her do, and it hits you harder than you expected. Her thumb traces over your hand in small, tentative movements.

"Yeah," she mutters. "Maybe... maybe we could use some of that normal stuff."

You don't say anything more. Words don't feel necessary right now. The quiet understanding that passes between you is enough. In this moment, everything else fades. There's no need for plans, no need for missions or fights. There's just this, just the two of you.

Jinx shifts again, this time pressing her body against yours, her head resting back on your shoulder, her breath soft against your skin. For a moment, you close your eyes, letting the warmth of her presence seep into you. The world outside doesn't matter. It's just the two of you in this rare slice of normalcy, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe it could last.

And maybe, just maybe, it will.

——

The ticking of the clock on the wall grows louder as you gather your things, the small, familiar rhythm marking the time left before you leave. Your boots thud quietly on the cracked floorboards as you move around Jinx's hideout, preparing for the mission Silco assigned you. You've been in the game long enough to know that Silco's assignments don't come with much warning or time to spare. When he gives a task, you don't ask questions, you don't hesitate—you just go. This one, though, feels different. It's longer, more dangerous, and it will take you far from Jinx. The weight of the situation settles heavily in your chest, but you don't let it show. You have to stay focused.

Jinx is sitting on the couch, her legs curled up beneath her, a twisted mess of energy barely contained. She hasn't said much since Silco's orders came through. In fact, she hasn't said much all morning. Normally, she's impossible to ignore, constantly moving, making noise, tearing through whatever project she's working on, but today? It's like a storm is building inside her, one she's desperately trying to contain.

She watches you with those chaotic eyes, her body stiff and her movements sharp as she drags her fingers across the back of the couch, clearly lost in her thoughts. Her wild blue hair, usually so full of life, hangs loosely in two long braids over her shoulders, the strands tangled and messy like everything else around her. You can see the tension in her posture, the way her arms are crossed tightly over her chest as she keeps a careful distance from you.

It's like she's already preparing herself for the worst.

You know she's afraid of abandonment—hell, anyone who's had the misfortune of witnessing her life up close knows that. But seeing it now, feeling it in the air between the two of you, is suffocating.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you finish packing your bag. The mission won't be quick, and you know you can't take Jinx with you this time. It's too dangerous, too unpredictable. And yet, as you make the final adjustments, you can feel her eyes on you, sharp and unblinking.

"Where are you going?" Her voice breaks through the silence, sharp and questioning, laced with that familiar hint of dread.

You stop mid-step, glancing over at her, but you don't meet her eyes right away. It's easier not to. Easier to pretend that everything's okay. But you know it isn't. Not with her, not now. You know Jinx can feel the shift in the air just as clearly as you do, even if she won't admit it.

"I've got a mission," you say, keeping your tone even, casual. You can't let her know how much this is bothering you. "It's going to take me a while. Longer than usual."

The words fall out of your mouth, but they feel too heavy, too final. You can see Jinx's entire body stiffen at the mention of your absence, her face contorting into something unreadable. She's trying to hide it, trying to hold on to whatever shred of control she has left, but you can see it. The fear, the vulnerability. The very thing she's always tried to bury beneath the madness.

"You're leaving." Her voice is quieter now, a little more broken, but still full of that sharp edge. "Again."

You nod, but the movement feels hollow, like you're agreeing to something neither of you wants.

"I'll be back. I just have to finish this one." You try to offer reassurance, but it feels inadequate.

Jinx pushes herself off the couch, her body moving with a sudden, tense energy. She stands tall, her posture defensive, her eyes flitting around the room as if she's looking for something to latch onto. Her manic energy is bubbling up again, like a pot just about to boil over. She steps forward, her bare feet padding silently across the floor, but when she's close enough to you, she stops.

"Don't," she snaps, her voice cracking as she tries to hold back whatever emotion is threatening to spill out. "Don't do this. Don't leave me."

You freeze at her words, feeling the ground beneath you shift. There's a rawness to her voice, an honesty that you're not sure how to respond to. She's usually so full of noise, so unpredictable, but right now, there's nothing but fear behind her gaze. Her hands are clenched at her sides, and for a brief moment, it feels like she might reach out to you—but she doesn't.

"I have to go, Jinx." Your voice is softer now, though still firm. You know you need to stay strong, but the way her eyes search you, like she's looking for something to hold onto, makes it harder. You can't be the one to break.

Jinx shakes her head, a wild laugh escaping her lips, though it doesn't carry the usual manic energy she's known for. It's hollow, the kind of laugh that sounds like it's drowning in itself.

"I'm always left behind," she mutters, her voice barely audible, almost as if she's trying to convince herself of it. "You always leave."

The words hit you like a slap, and you can feel the tightness in your chest, the weight of her insecurities and pain pressing down on you. But you don't have an answer for her. Not one that will make her feel any better. You can't promise her that you won't leave. You can't promise her that you'll always come back.

And you know that.

But Jinx doesn't.

The silence stretches between the two of you like a chasm. You're not sure how to bridge it, how to fix it. You want to reach out to her, pull her into your arms, promise her that everything will be fine. But you can't. You know you can't. The mission is bigger than her, bigger than both of you, and if you don't go, you'll be putting everything at risk.

"I'll come back. I always do," you say, trying to sound more confident than you feel. "But I need to do this. You know that."

Jinx's eyes flicker with something dangerous, something volatile. Her hands, still clenched, tremble at her sides, and you can see the storm building inside her. She takes a step back, a sharp, jerky movement that feels like a retreat. But instead of giving in, she's pushing herself away—almost like she's preparing for the moment you'll leave, already bracing herself for the hurt.

You know she's trying to protect herself. You know she's doing everything she can to not let herself care too much. But it hurts.

"You're not even gonna fight for me, are you?" Jinx spits, her words cutting through the air, sharp and venomous. She pulls away from you, but there's an undercurrent of desperation in her voice. She's angry, but it's not the usual, mindless rage. It's something deeper, something that feels like a fracture in her already fractured soul.

"Jinx," you start, but she cuts you off, the manic energy once again taking hold of her. She laughs again, but this time it's bitter, twisted.

"I get it. You're just like everyone else," she says, her words slurring as the emotions twist inside her. "You'll leave, and I'll be stuck here. Alone."

You feel the sting of her words, but you try not to let it show. She's scared, angry, hurt. You know that. But you also know that you can't be the one to stay and solve her problems. Not this time. Not when the mission is so important.

"I'm not like everyone else," you say quietly, a plea in your voice. "You know I'm not."

But Jinx isn't listening anymore. Her eyes are glazed with something—anger, sadness, fear—whatever it is, it's more than you can reach right now. She shakes her head violently, her braids whipping around her face like a wild storm, and then, as quickly as the flare of emotion appeared, she pulls away again, retreating further from you.

You watch her, helpless, as she turns her back on you. Her voice is shaky when she speaks again, but there's a certain finality in her words.

"I don't need you to come back. I never did."

It stings, the truth of her words hitting you harder than you expected. You don't know if she's trying to convince herself, or if she really believes it. Either way, the crack in her voice is enough to shatter whatever facade she's put up.

You swallow thickly, but you don't respond. Instead, you stand there for a moment, just watching her, feeling the distance between you grow.

And then, with a final, defeated sigh, you grab your bag and make your way to the door. Jinx doesn't try to stop you, doesn't say anything else. But you can feel her eyes on your back as you leave, and you know that this moment will linger long after you've gone.

You take a deep breath, stepping out into the cold air, but as soon as the door clicks shut behind you, something inside you falters. Your heart sinks in your chest, a gnawing, visceral feeling that you can't ignore. You're used to being hard, being the one who's always steady in the chaos. But this? This isn't just a mission. This isn't just Silco's orders. This is Jinx, standing in the heart of your world, and the distance between the two of you feels unbearable.

You don't stop walking. You don't even look back at first. But after a few paces, the words echo in your mind. "I don't need you to come back. I never did."

They cut deep, deeper than anything you could've expected. She says things like that when she's scared, when she's pushing people away. You know that. But hearing it, knowing you left her behind like that, is enough to make you feel sick.

You turn back around, your boots slamming against the ground as you march right back toward the hideout. Your mind races, your thoughts colliding with one another like crashing waves. You're furious, sure, but more than that, you're scared. Scared that maybe you didn't try hard enough. Scared that maybe she's right—that you'll leave her, like everyone else always does.

You throw the door open with force, the loud creak of the hinges breaking the stillness inside the hideout. The sudden movement makes Jinx jerk her head up, her wild eyes locking onto yours, wide with surprise, anger, maybe even a little bit of fear.

Her arms are still crossed over her chest, but this time, she doesn't look quite so angry. More like... lost. Like she's trying to figure out how to feel, how to make sense of whatever is going on between the two of you.

You stand there for a moment, just staring at her, before you close the door behind you, shutting out the noise of the outside world. This is where you need to be.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say, your voice steady but firm. It's not a threat. It's a promise.

Jinx's breath hitches, her eyes flicking to the floor before returning to meet yours. There's something raw in her gaze, something that pulls at you like a gravitational force.

"What's the point?" she spits out, her voice small but still sharp. "You'll leave anyway. They all do."

She takes a step back, trying to put some space between the two of you, but you don't let her. You move toward her, your steps deliberate and measured, until you're standing in front of her. The room feels smaller now, the air heavier.

"Jinx, listen to me." You reach out, your hand hovering near her arm before gently resting on her shoulder. She tenses at the touch, but you don't pull away. "I'm not leaving you. I'm not like them."

Her lips tremble, and for a split second, you see the little girl underneath all that chaos. The one who's been abandoned, who's been hurt over and over again. You feel that pang of empathy, the kind that burns you with regret, but you push it aside. She needs to hear this.

"I have a mission. A job I have to finish. But I'm coming back," you continue, your voice softer now, just for her. "I swear it. I'll always come back to you."

Jinx's eyes dart to the floor, her hands fidgeting at her sides, her nails scraping against her skin. You can see the turmoil beneath her frantic exterior—the fight inside her to stay calm, to hold it together. But you know her better than anyone. You know when she's falling apart, even if she refuses to admit it.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, cracking under the strain. "Don't say things like that, just to make me feel better."

You can't help but feel the sting of her words, but you refuse to let it break you. You reach out again, this time placing both hands on her arms, gently holding her in place. You make sure she feels you, feels the sincerity in your touch.

"Jinx, you're not alone," you say, your voice rough with the weight of everything you're feeling. "I'm not going to abandon you, no matter what. I don't care how many times you push me away. I'll always come back."

For a moment, she doesn't move. She doesn't say anything. Her body is rigid under your hands, her breath shallow and unsteady, as if she's still trying to decide whether to believe you or not. But then, slowly, tentatively, she looks up at you again.

Her eyes are wide, unblinking, but there's something different in them now. Not the chaotic, frantic energy that's always been there. Something softer. Something more vulnerable.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," she whispers, almost too quietly to hear, but you catch it. You hear it loud and clear.

And in that moment, you realize just how badly she needs you—how much she's holding herself together by threads, afraid that if she lets go, she'll fall apart. You can feel it in the way she's holding herself, the way she's barely keeping herself together.

"Jinx..." You swallow thickly, stepping closer so that your foreheads nearly touch. "You don't have to be."

Without thinking, you pull her closer, your arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. At first, she stiffens, her body rigid against yours, but after a moment, she relaxes just slightly, her arms slowly winding around your waist. Her breath is shaky, her body trembling as she clings to you, like you're the only thing keeping her from floating away.

"I won't leave you," you say again, this time with absolute certainty. You can feel the weight of your words in your chest, a promise that means more than anything else. "I'll come back. I swear it."

For a long time, neither of you speak. There's no need for words right now. All that matters is the closeness, the comfort you're offering her, and the warmth of your embrace.

Jinx presses her face into the crook of your neck, and you feel the dampness of her breath against your skin. She's shaking now, her entire body vibrating with a mix of fear, sadness, and maybe even relief. You hold her tighter, letting her know that you're here, that you're not going anywhere. And as you feel her begin to relax in your arms, you can't help but feel the weight in your chest lift just a little.

"You promise?" she asks, her voice barely audible, but you can feel the desperation in her words.

"I promise," you reply, your voice steady and firm. "No matter what, Jinx, I'm coming back to you."

And in that moment, with her arms wrapped tightly around you and the storm of emotions between you both finally beginning to settle, you realize that you've made the only promise that matters. The only one you can keep.

The mission can wait. The world outside can wait. Right now, it's just you and Jinx, and for the first time in a long while, that's enough.

—-

The door to the hideout creaks open with a groan, and you pause for a moment, breathing in the familiar air of the space you'd left behind only days ago. The thick, metallic scent of Zaun still hangs in the air, but it's quieter now. The machines are still, the usual chaos absent. You step inside, and immediately, you feel a weight lift off your chest. The mission is over. The long, dangerous days away from Jinx have ended, and now, you're home.

Your boots scrape lightly against the floor, the sound echoing in the emptiness. There's a stillness in the room, a waiting, an anticipation that you can almost taste in the air. But it's not the usual quiet that you've grown accustomed to when you're alone. No, this silence is different. You can feel it in the way the room holds its breath, as if it, too, is waiting for something to shift.

Then, a figure steps out from the shadows of the dimly lit corner.

Jinx. She's standing there, her wild blue braids tangled, her pale skin almost glowing under the light that filters in through the broken windows. She's staring at you, her chaotic eyes wide, a mixture of surprise, relief, and something else... something more fragile.

You freeze for a moment, unable to stop the flood of emotions that surge through you. Seeing her like this, standing before you, it's impossible to ignore the bond between you both—the pull that tugs at you from deep inside, the connection that's only grown stronger with each passing day.

She doesn't move at first. She just watches you, her breath shallow, like she's waiting for you to make the first move, to prove that you're really back. But when you take a step forward, her gaze softens, the tension in her body starting to melt away.

"Y-you're back," she whispers, her voice almost cracking, and you hear the relief in her words. She's barely holding it together, but there's something else in her eyes, something you've seen before: the fear. The fear that you'll leave again.

You take another step toward her, your heartbeat quickening as the distance between you disappears. And when you reach her, you see it. The hesitation. The panic in her eyes, barely contained. It's like she's afraid to even breathe in your presence, like the second she does, you'll vanish.

You lift your hand, gently cupping her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin under your touch. Her eyes flutter shut for just a moment, a soft sigh escaping her lips, and for a second, it feels like everything is going to be okay. But the moment the silence stretches too long, her eyes snap open, filled with an almost frantic energy.

"You're really back?" Her voice shakes, barely audible, as she steps back, pulling herself away from your touch, the fear in her movements apparent. "You won't leave again, right?"

You're about to speak, to reassure her that you're not going anywhere, but before you can, she blurts out again, her words tumbling over one another in a desperate rush. "I— I don't want you to leave again. I can't— I can't do it. I can't keep doing this. You... you're all I've got."

The words sting, but you know it's not her fault. She's scared. Terrified of losing the one person who's ever stayed, and you can see it in her eyes—the panic, the desperation to hold on to something real for once in her life. She's been left behind too many times, and the thought of you walking away, of losing you too, is more than she can bear.

You don't speak. You can't find the right words to calm her fears, to tell her that everything will be okay. Instead, you take her hand, gently pulling her closer. There's no room for doubt here. Only certainty.

She stares up at you, her breath shallow, her lips parted, and for the briefest moment, you see the chaos and pain in her eyes fade away. The raw vulnerability she's tried so hard to hide, now exposed, but it's not weakness. Not this time. This time, it's a strength. A strength that she's giving to you, allowing you to see all the broken pieces of her heart.

"Jinx, I'm not going anywhere," you whisper, your voice soft but firm. "I'm here. With you. I'm not leaving."

Her eyes search your face, looking for any hint of a lie, but all she finds is truth. The words you speak are not just promises; they are assurances. You're here. You've come back. And you're not leaving. Not this time.

Her breath catches, and for a heartbeat, it feels like the world stands still. The two of you, just this small, fragile moment where everything else fades away. She pulls you in before you even have the chance to react. Her arms wind around your neck, pulling you close as she presses her lips to yours, desperate, needy, as though she's afraid if she doesn't, you'll slip away from her again.

You don't hesitate. You don't think twice. Your hands find their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens. The weight of everything—of all the months apart, of the fear, the anger, the longing—melts into the intensity of the moment. It's a kiss that burns with the intensity of everything unsaid, everything unspoken between you two.

Jinx is the first to break away, her breath ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she pulls back just enough to look at you. Her lips are swollen from the kiss, her eyes wild and unfocused as she studies you like she's afraid this moment might slip away.

"Please don't leave," she whispers again, but it's softer this time, quieter, as if she's finally allowing herself to trust you—really trust you.

You brush a strand of her wild blue hair behind her ear, your fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek. "I won't," you reply, your voice barely a whisper. "I swear it. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, Jinx. I'm here to stay."

She nods, a small, uncertain smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she presses her forehead against yours. "Okay," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "Okay."

But even as she says the word, you know the fight isn't over. It's never over with her. She's not just going to let you in and let you stay without a fight. There's too much inside her, too much fear, too much pain. And you can feel it—the way her body is trembling, the way her heart is racing in her chest as she holds you tight.

But you don't let go. Not now, not ever.

You pull her back into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, more tender, like you're both savoring the feeling of being close again. Like you're both making up for lost time, for the moments that slipped through your fingers, the words that went unsaid, the promises that were broken.

The kiss stretches on, lingering, and in it, you find the reassurance you both need. The promise that no matter what, you'll always find each other again. No matter how far apart you are, no matter how much time passes, you will always come back to this. To each other.

As you pull away, breathless and with hearts pounding, Jinx looks at you once more, her eyes filled with that same mix of vulnerability and longing. The same desperation to be loved, to be kept, to be found.

And in that moment, you realize you've found something you didn't know you were looking for: each other.

And you're not going anywhere. Not anymore.

The air in the room is thick with tension, but it's not the heavy, anxious kind you've grown used to in Zaun. No, this is different—charged with an undeniable pull, an ache that thrums through your veins. Jinx is standing there, just inches away, her chest still heaving from the kiss you shared, and you can feel her energy crackling, her need pulsing in the space between you.

You want her. You've always wanted her, but in moments like these, it's like a hunger you can't control. And just like that, you're pulled back into her orbit, no longer able to ignore the way she makes your heart race, the way her touch lingers on your skin even after it's gone.

Without a word, you take a step forward. She doesn't move away this time, doesn't pull back from you like she had done before. Instead, she meets you halfway, her lips parting in a breathless sigh as you close the gap. She lets you lead her, lets you take control in a way that's both comforting and exhilarating. Your hands slide to her waist, fingers curling around the soft fabric of her clothes, guiding her gently backward.

She doesn't resist, doesn't protest as you guide her toward the cluttered desk behind her, the very desk where so many of her chaotic thoughts are scattered across blueprints and broken machinery. It's ironic, really—this place of creation, of chaos, of everything that's wrong in her world, is the same place you're going to finally give in to everything right between you.

You're aware of the air between you, thick with anticipation, with unspoken desires that have been building for far too long. With every step closer to the desk, Jinx's breathing quickens, her eyes locked onto yours with a kind of desperate intensity that makes your pulse race.

When your backs hit the desk, the momentum makes her gasp softly. Your hands slide along her hips, and you feel her hands trembling as they grip the edge of the desk, bracing herself. She looks at you, her eyes wild, her pupils dilated, and you see it—the hunger, the need, the want. It's all there, written in the frantic way her chest rises and falls, in the way her lips part in anticipation.

Before she can say a word, you pull her forward, closer, your lips crashing into hers again, this time with all the hunger you've been holding back. It's no longer just a kiss—it's a release, a letting go of all the tension, the fear, the pain that's always lingered between you two. Jinx is desperate, pulling at your clothes, her hands roaming over your body, her lips not letting go of yours for even a moment.

You feel her warmth, the softness of her skin, the way she fits perfectly against you, and you can't stop. You don't want to stop. There's no room for hesitation, no time for doubt. You need her like you need air. It's as if every moment spent apart has only amplified the craving inside you, the desire that's always been there but never fully acknowledged.

Her hands slide under your shirt, fingertips brushing over your skin, and you shiver at the touch. She pulls back just enough to catch her breath, her lips slick and swollen from the kiss, but her eyes are darker now, filled with an almost dangerous intensity. "Are you sure?" she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper, a question that feels both hesitant and demanding.

You pull her back toward you, your lips finding hers again in a slow, deep kiss, a reassurance that you are more than sure. "I'm sure," you breathe against her lips. "I want this. I want you."

Her breath catches in her throat, and her hands slide up to your neck, pulling you closer. There's no hesitation now, just the desperate need to feel the other, to close the distance between you both, to fill the empty spaces that have haunted you both for too long.

You move together, guided by instinct, the world outside fading away until there's nothing but the two of you. Her lips are feverish, demanding, and when she pulls back to look at you, her eyes are wide, frantic. "Don't leave me. Not again."

Her words are a plea, and you can feel the raw emotion behind them, the fear that has never fully left her heart. You press your forehead to hers, your hands still gripping her hips, steadying her as she wavers beneath your touch.

"I won't leave you," you murmur, the promise heavy in your chest. "Not now. Not ever."

Jinx nods, her lips finding yours again in a kiss that tastes like something desperate and real, the heat of it searing through every inch of your body. You guide her hands back to your chest, pressing them against the fabric of your shirt, urging her to explore, to touch.

She obeys, her hands trembling as they slide down your torso, feeling the heat of your skin beneath the fabric. Her touch is light, tentative at first, but soon it grows bolder, more confident. She knows exactly what she wants now, exactly what she needs.

With a breathless sigh, you push her back against the desk, your lips trailing down her neck, tasting the salty warmth of her skin. She gasps, her hands flying to your hair, tugging you closer, as if she can't get enough of you. You kiss her neck, your hands sliding to her back, feeling the curve of her body beneath your touch. Every inch of her feels like fire, like something you've been waiting for, and you can't seem to get enough.

Her fingers are shaking as she reaches for the buttons of your shirt, her movements desperate. "I need you," she whispers against your lips, her voice thick with need. "Please..."

You don't need any more encouragement. You kiss her again, your hands sliding to her hips, lifting her just enough to pull her closer. The tension between you is unbearable, each second stretching on as you both fight to pull each other closer, to fill the emptiness that has lingered for so long.

The desk is cold beneath her, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters except the two of you, the desperate need to close the distance, to make up for every moment lost, every second apart. The room spins, the world around you fading until it's just her, just this, just the fire burning between you.

Jinx's fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer, her breath a warm rush against your skin. Your hands are all over her—on her hips, her back, her shoulders, touching her in ways that make your heart race and your body burn. Every inch of her is a world you've been wanting to explore, every breath she takes feels like a symphony. You kiss her harder, feeling the heat between you grow, a fever that consumes you both.

But just as you begin to lose yourself in the sensation of her—the softness of her lips, the heat of her body pressed against yours—you hear a noise from the hallway.

It's faint at first, the sound of footsteps coming closer, the scrape of boots against the metal floor. You freeze, tension snapping through your body. Jinx stills as well, her breath shallow as her wide, chaotic eyes dart toward the door. The noise grows louder, closer, unmistakably familiar.

It's Sevika.

Your heart stops, and the world outside your bubble comes crashing back into focus.

She's not supposed to be here. Not now. Not while you're caught in this intense moment with Jinx. Your mind races, panic surging through you like a burst of adrenaline. You glance at Jinx, her face a mix of surprise and confusion, her pupils still dilated from the heat of your kiss, her lips swollen and bruised.

Sevika's footsteps echo through the hall, too close now, and you feel a sudden urgency. You quickly pull away from Jinx, hands trembling as you try to put distance between you and the desk, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy before Sevika bursts through the door. Your heart pounds in your chest.

Jinx, still dazed from your kiss, watches you with a mix of confusion and frustration, her lips parted as if she doesn't understand why you've pulled back. She looks down at the desk, her hands still gripping the edge, her fingers twitching as if she wants to pull you back to her, to finish what you started. But you can't. Not now.

The footsteps grow louder, and it's clear that Sevika is coming. There's no more time.

"Jinx," you murmur urgently, your voice strained, barely audible. She doesn't seem to hear you, still caught in the aftershocks of your kiss, her gaze flickering between you and the door.

You step back and frantically tug her away from the desk, guiding her toward the far corner of the room. Jinx blinks, looking confused but obedient, her body pliable as you pull her out of sight. She doesn't protest—she can't, not when her brain is still clouded with desire, still buzzing from the touch of your lips.

The footsteps stop just outside the door. Your heart skips a beat. You can feel Jinx's hand in yours, clammy with nervousness, her breath still uneven.

The door handle shifts. It's Sevika. She's just about to walk in.

You quickly pull Jinx behind a stack of crates, your heart pounding, praying she doesn't notice the way you're both trying to act casual, or how your bodies are still a little too close. Your hand slips into hers, your breath held tight in your chest as you wait.

The door creaks open.

Sevika steps inside, her broad frame filling the doorway, her usual intimidating presence settling over the room. She looks around, her sharp gaze immediately scanning the space. You can see the flicker of curiosity in her eyes, but she doesn't say anything at first. She doesn't seem to notice the way Jinx is practically hidden behind you, her body pressed against the stack of crates, or how you're standing just a little too close to her.

Sevika doesn't give you a second glance, though. She's looking around, her sharp gaze landing on a scattered pile of blueprints on the desk, a half-finished project that's been lying untouched for days.

"Jinx," she grumbles, her voice low and rumbling. "You've got stuff to do. You're wasting time with this nonsense again?" She gestures dismissively at the desk, but her eyes flicker toward Jinx in the corner. "What is it? You're acting like a teenager who hasn't learned how to prioritize."

Jinx doesn't speak at first. She's still reeling from the kiss, the storm of emotions inside her holding her back from answering. But you can feel her hand in yours, her fingers curling slightly, holding you just a little bit tighter, as if she's scared that you'll slip away again.

You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure. Your voice is steady as you respond, stepping forward just enough to block Sevika's line of sight to Jinx. "We're just—just making sure everything's in order. Don't worry about it."

Sevika raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. She crosses her arms, giving you both a once-over. "Right," she mutters, but doesn't press further. "Well, don't get too comfortable. There's work to do, and I expect it done."

Without another word, Sevika turns on her heel and leaves the room, the door creaking closed behind her. The tension in the room melts almost instantly, and you let out the breath you were holding in. Jinx, still standing behind you, exhales sharply, her shoulders dropping in relief.

You turn to face her, your eyes meeting hers. There's a beat of silence, just the two of you standing there, the electric energy from before still lingering in the air between you. The kiss, the heat, the need—it hasn't gone away.

Jinx blinks, her gaze softening as she steps toward you. Her voice, when it comes, is quieter, tinged with uncertainty. "That was close."

You smile faintly, reaching for her hand, pulling her into your arms once more. "Yeah. Too close."

Jinx sighs and lets her head fall against your chest, her arms wrapping around you as if she's afraid to let go. "I don't like it when people interrupt us," she murmurs softly.

You chuckle softly, kissing the top of her head. "Me neither."

For a moment, you just hold her, the weight of everything outside forgotten as you bask in the simple act of being together. But as your fingers trace absentmindedly along the curve of her back, you know one thing for certain—whatever happens next, you're not leaving her again.

—-

The night was thick with tension, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls of the room. The usual hum of the hideout was eerily quiet tonight, the clattering of machines and scattered voices drowned by the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air between you and Jinx.

She was sitting across from you, her posture rigid, her eyes darting nervously around the room. It was like she was waiting for something — a sign, a spark, something to set her off. You could feel it in the way her fingers twitched, the way her breathing came in shallow bursts. Jinx wasn't calm, and you knew she wouldn't be for long.

You had been through this before. Her manic energy was a constant, but lately, there was something else lurking behind it. Her paranoia had been creeping back, insidious and suffocating, like a storm cloud that threatened to blot out the sun.

You had tried your best to keep things together, to comfort her through the storm, but tonight... tonight, it felt different. Tonight, the distance between you felt like an insurmountable wall, and it was only getting taller.

She turned her wild eyes to you, her lips twisting into a thin, tight line. "What's the real reason you're here, huh?" Her voice was sharp, and her usual chaotic energy was replaced by something darker, something more suspicious. "You're not just here to help me, are you? You're using me, aren't you?"

The accusation hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you just stared at her, trying to process the words she'd thrown at you. She wasn't angry — not yet, anyway — but there was a trembling vulnerability in her eyes that made your chest ache.

You had seen her at her most vulnerable before, but this was different. This was deeper. And you knew the mask she wore, the one that kept everyone at arm's length, was beginning to crack.

"I'm not using you, Jinx," you said, your voice steady, even though inside, a storm was raging. The words felt heavy in the space between you, like a declaration, a promise. "I'm here because I care about you. I'm not going anywhere."

Jinx's eyes narrowed, her expression turning more guarded. "Yeah, sure. You care about me. But what happens when you get what you want? What happens when you're done with me? You'll just throw me away, just like everyone else." Her voice cracked slightly, but she quickly masked it with a sharp, bitter laugh. "You all say that, but in the end, it's always the same."

You stood, your legs feeling unsteady, but you refused to let her see your doubt. You couldn't let her see it. Not now.

Her words stung, but you forced yourself to approach her, to bridge the gap that had grown between you. The space between the two of you felt like a chasm, but you weren't about to back down. You never had before.

"Jinx," you said gently, crouching down in front of her. She didn't pull away, but her eyes were trained on the floor, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. "I'm not like them. I'm not like the people who hurt you, who left you. I'm here because I want to be. I'm here because I'm not going anywhere. Do you understand?"

Her lips trembled, and for a second, you thought she might break. But instead, she shook her head, her voice breaking as she spoke. "You're just like them. You'll leave, too. It's always the same. People like me... We're not meant to be loved. Not for long."

You felt a pang in your chest, the raw vulnerability in her words cutting deeper than any blade could. But you didn't flinch. You didn't back away.

"You're wrong," you said, your voice soft but firm. "I won't leave you. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Jinx. Right here with you."

Her eyes met yours then, and for a moment, you saw something raw, something broken. Her chaotic energy flickered for a moment, and you could see the cracks in the mask she wore so carefully. You saw the girl underneath all the madness — the girl who was terrified, who was lost, who needed someone to hold her together.

Jinx was trembling now, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. She couldn't keep up the act any longer. The weight of her fears, her insecurities, all the doubts that she had buried so deep within her were spilling out. She was falling apart in front of you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

But that didn't mean you were going to leave her.

You reached out then, your hand trembling as you cupped her face gently, forcing her to look at you. "I'm not going anywhere, Jinx. Not ever."

She didn't say anything at first, just stared at you with wide, bloodshot eyes. But then, a tear slipped down her cheek, and she let out a broken sob.

"I'm scared," she whispered, her voice so small, so vulnerable. "I'm scared you'll leave me, too. I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't want to be... forgotten."

Your heart shattered at the sound of her voice, the fear in her words echoing through your entire being. You pulled her toward you then, holding her close, not caring about the messiness of the situation, the way her body trembled in your arms.

"I'm here, Jinx," you whispered into her hair. "I'm here. You're not alone."

She clung to you then, her arms wrapped around you desperately, as if she were afraid you might slip through her fingers if she let go. You held her tightly, your hands running through her hair, your fingers brushing against the tattoos that marked her skin. She was warm against you, her breath ragged as she cried, but there was something healing in this moment. Something real. Something she had been yearning for but didn't know how to ask for.

For a long while, you didn't say anything. You just held her. You let her cry. And as the tears slowed, you could feel her trembling against you, her body slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I trust you," she whispered, her voice so soft you almost didn't hear it. But you did. "I trust you."

And that was enough.

You stroked her hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I won't let you down, Jinx. I swear. You don't have to be scared anymore."

She pulled away slightly, looking up at you with those wide, manic eyes, but there was something different in them now. The edge of paranoia was still there, still lurking in the back of her mind, but for the first time, you saw something else — something fragile, something hopeful.

"Promise?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I promise," you said, sealing the promise with a gentle kiss to her lips.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jinx let herself trust. Let herself be vulnerable. And as she clung to you in that quiet, intimate moment, you knew you would never let her go.

The kiss deepened, slow and tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters, unsure of the intensity that was building between you. Jinx's lips were trembling beneath yours, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she pressed closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as though she were trying to ground herself in the moment, to hold on to you as if you might vanish at any moment.

Your hands moved instinctively, cupping her face, guiding her closer. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, all of it felt so real, so tangible. You could feel the heat rising between you, a desperate need beginning to pulse in your veins, urging you to close the gap, to make this moment something more than just comforting words and promises.

Jinx's breath hitched as your lips moved against hers, and she tilted her head, deepening the kiss, her tongue grazing over your bottom lip. It was hesitant at first, but then, the hunger in her grew, a wildness that mirrored the chaos inside her, the energy she couldn't contain. You responded in kind, kissing her harder, more urgently, your own pulse racing as desire and need collided.

Her hands roamed, slipping under your shirt, her fingertips tracing the lines of your muscles, as if she were mapping you, learning every inch of your skin. You shuddered at the sensation, your own hands sliding down her back, pulling her closer still until there was no space between you, just the press of her body against yours.

You felt the tension building in the room, thick and heavy. There was no going back now, no stopping the tide of emotions that had been building up between you for so long. The quiet moment of vulnerability had given way to something deeper, something primal.

Jinx moaned softly against your lips, the sound making your heart race. She needed this, you realized. Needed to feel grounded, needed to feel something real. You had always known that beneath her manic energy and unpredictable flair, there was a girl who longed for connection, for someone who wouldn't leave her behind. And right now, in this moment, she was letting go of her fears. She was trusting you, and you weren't about to let her down.

You kissed her harder, pushing her back gently until she was pressed against the wall, your body trapping her in place. Her hands flew to your hair, tugging you closer, the desperation in her touch matching your own. There was no hesitation now, no doubt, just the frantic need to be as close as possible, to merge into one.

The world outside the room didn't matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was Jinx and you, the fire between you igniting into something fierce and all-consuming. Your lips left hers, trailing down her neck, tasting her skin, her pulse racing beneath your touch. She gasped, her head tilting back, giving you full access to her neck, to the delicate lines of her collarbone.

She was trembling, but not with fear—no, this was something else. Her breath was uneven, her hands clutching at your shoulders as if you were the only solid thing in a world full of shadows. Jinx's eyes locked onto yours, wild and unyielding, yet there was a flicker of something vulnerable beneath the surface. She was asking for something, no, begging for it, and the sound of her voice, raw and desperate, sent a shiver down your spine.

"Please," she whispered again, her voice barely audible, but there was no mistaking the urgency in it. "I need... I need you."

The weight of her words pressed against you, heavy and insistent. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, the way her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. Her vulnerability was intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning closer, your lips brushing against her ear as you murmured back, "Tell me what you need, Jinx. Show me."

Her fingers dug into your arms, her nails leaving faint impressions on your skin. She pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes searching yours for something—permission? Assurance? Whatever it was, she found it, because the next moment, her hands were traveling down your sides, pulling you flush against her. The contact was electric, every inch of her body vibrating with need as she pressed herself against you.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," she said, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "Not like this. Not when you're right here."

You nodded, understanding flooding through you. She wasn't just asking for physical touch; she was asking for connection, for someone to ground her in this moment, to pull her out of the endless spiral of paranoia that usually consumed her. And you were determined to give her that.

Gently, you cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against her cheeks. Her skin was warm, softer than you expected given how fierce she could be. But now, in this moment, she was simply Jinx—vulnerable, needy, breathtaking. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn't rushed, wasn't hurried. Instead, it was meant to be savored, each movement of your lips a promise of what was to come.

Jinx groaned against your mouth, her hands gripping your waist tighter. She kissed you back with an intensity that took your breath away, her tongue darting out to tangle with yours. The sensation was overwhelming, her taste, her scent, the way she felt against you—it all collided in your mind, leaving you dizzy with desire.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Jinx's eyes were still locked on yours, mesmerized, as if she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. "Keep going," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Don't stop."

You didn't plan to. With deliberate movements, you reached for the button of her pants, your fingers fumbling slightly as you worked to undo them. Jinx let out a shaky laugh, her hands coming to rest on yours, guiding your movements. "Let me help you," she said, her voice laced with amusement.

Together, you managed to slide her pants down her legs, leaving her standing before you in nothing but her underwear. You paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her—her chest rising and falling rapidly, her tattoos seeming to glow in the dim light. There was something almost primal about her beauty, something that made your heart race.

"Do you trust me?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jinx hesitated, her eyes flickering over your face as if searching for the truth in your words. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Yes," she breathed, the word coming out almost as a sigh. "I do."

With that, you moved forward, your hands sliding along her thighs, gently urging her to sit on the edge of the bed. She obeyed without hesitation, her eyes never leaving yours. As she settled onto the mattress, you knelt between her legs, your fingers trailing up the inside of her thighs. She shivered under your touch, her breath hitching as you neared her core.

Your fingertips brushed against the lace of her underwear, tracing the outline of her swollen lips. Jinx gasped, her hands reaching out to grip the sheets tightly. "More," she demanded, her voice thick with desire. "Please, more."

You didn't need to be told twice. Delicately, you hooked your fingers under the fabric, sliding it down her legs and tossing it aside. Jinx was fully exposed to you now, her pink folds glistening with arousal, her clit throbbing visibly. You could see the way her body trembled, the way her breath hitched with anticipation.

Slowly, reverently, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh. Jinx whimpered, her hands moving to tangle in your hair. "Fuck," she muttered, her voice shaking. "What are you doing to me?"

You looked up at her, meeting her gaze with a smirk. "Do you want me to stop?" you teased, your voice low and sultry.

She growled, her fingers tightening in your hair. "No," she spat, her voice sharp. "Don't you dare stop."

With that, you returned your attention to her, your tongue flicking out to trace the length of her slit. Jinx cried out, her hips bucking against your face. You took your time, lapping at her slowly, tasting her, exploring every inch of her. Her flavor was intoxicating, sweet and tangy, and you couldn't get enough of it.

As you continued to work her, Jinx's moans grew louder, her body twisting and turning beneath you. She was completely undone, her walls pulsing around your fingers as you slid two of them inside her, curling them slightly to stroke her g-spot. She was so tight, so wet, and the sensation was incredible.

"Oh god," she gasped, her head falling back against the pillow. "That feels so fucking good. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

You didn't have any intention of stopping. Instead, you increased the pace, thrusting your fingers in and out of her faster, your thumb circling her clit in time with your movements. Jinx's breath was coming in short, ragged gasps now, her entire body trembling with pleasure.

"Almost there," you murmured against her, your voice dripping with confidence. "Just a little more, sweetheart."

Her eyes flew open, locking onto yours once again. The intensity in her gaze was staggering, her pupils blown wide with desire. "Yes," she hissed, her voice barely audible. "Right there. Fuck, yes."

With one final push, you hit her peak, her walls clenching around your fingers as she came undone. Jinx screamed your name, her body arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. You didn't stop, continuing to stroke her until she went limp, her breathing returning to normal.

When she finally opened her eyes again, they were filled with awe, with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice soft, almost reverent.

—-

The silence between you and Jinx is never truly quiet. It hums with the energy of something unspoken, something that constantly threatens to spill over, but never quite does. It's a fragile peace, one that was forged in the moments of vulnerability shared between you two after the heat of your passion settled. There's a stillness, yes, but it's not without its own brand of chaos — not the kind that tears things apart, but the kind that threads its way through the heart, messy and unpredictable, but real.

In the days that follow, the dynamic between you and Jinx shifts, but in a way that is both comforting and uncertain. Your bond is something different now, something deeper than just the surface-level madness that so often consumed her. There's a quiet understanding between you, an unspoken agreement that despite the wildness in her, despite her chaotic energy, you will be here. You will stay.

But that doesn't mean it's easy.

Jinx's manic behavior still stirs the waters between you both, her moods unpredictable like the weather, shifting from stormy to calm in the blink of an eye. Some days she's clinging to you like a lifeline, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist, her lips brushing against your skin with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Other times, she's distant, her eyes clouded with something you can't quite reach, like she's lost in a world of her own creation.

But still, you find moments of peace, small flashes of light in the chaos. Her affection comes in impulsive bursts, sudden and without warning, like a spark that lights up the dark. Sometimes, it's a kiss — quick, messy, and unexpected, stolen in the middle of a conversation, when you're not looking. Other times, it's the brush of her fingers against yours, lingering for just a second too long, enough to make your heart skip a beat.

She's still unpredictable, still driven by impulses and whims, but there's a tenderness to it now, something deeper that she only shows when she feels safe.

It happens one evening when the two of you are sitting together, the room quiet except for the faint hum of machinery in the background. The Firelights have been busy, and the space you share is a temporary haven, one where the world feels a little smaller, a little more manageable. You're reading something, a piece of work that requires your full attention, but Jinx is never one to sit still for long.

She's leaning against the wall, her legs crossed, her arms folded over her chest. Her eyes, as chaotic as ever, are fixed on you, but there's a quietness to her gaze that's rare. For once, she's not fidgeting or moving a million miles a minute. She's just... there, watching.

You feel her stare before you see it, an electric charge in the air between you, but you don't look up at first. You know she's there, and you know that when you do, she'll be ready to do something unpredictable, just like always.

Sure enough, as soon as your eyes meet hers, she grins, a wild, mischievous thing, her lips curling up at the corners. Her gaze flicks to your lips, and then she's pushing off from the wall, crossing the room in three quick strides. Before you can react, she's in front of you, her hands sliding around the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

It's sudden, a rush of heat, but there's something soft in it too, something tender that you can't quite place. Her lips are urgent, as though she's trying to prove something to herself, trying to cement her place in this moment. She tastes like chaos, like the storm that rages inside her, but there's something else too, something grounding, something real. You can feel her heart beat against yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let go of the walls you've built up around your own heart, letting her in, letting her fill the space between you.

When the kiss ends, it's with a breathless gasp, and Jinx pulls back just enough to look at you. Her lips are slightly parted, her chest rising and falling with the same frantic energy that seems to define her every movement.

"You're always so serious," she teases, her voice a little breathless, a little playful. "I wanted to see if I could make you lose your focus."

You can't help but smile, a small, knowing smile. "You're not the only one who's unpredictable."

Her eyes flicker with something darker, something dangerous, but it's gone before you can fully catch it. "Maybe. But I'm a lot more fun."

In the days that follow, the pattern continues. Jinx comes to you in bursts, stealing kisses when you least expect them, pulling you into moments that feel like they could be ripped from a dream. You learn to read her moods, to recognize the subtle shifts in her energy. You know when she's about to do something impulsive, and you know when she's going to retreat into herself.

But still, despite the little cracks in the surface, despite the turbulence, you grow closer, finding comfort in the small moments you share. Even when she's caught up in her manic energy, you're learning how to be there, learning how to support her without trying to fix everything.

It's not easy. There are days when you're both worn out, when the weight of everything pressing in on you is almost too much to bear. There are moments when you wonder if it's all worth it, if you're strong enough to handle the chaos that she brings into your life.

But then, there are days like today, when she catches you by surprise, when she lets you see a side of her that no one else does.

The sun is setting outside, the golden light casting a warm glow over the room. You're sitting at your desk, going through reports and paperwork, trying to get everything in order for the next few days. The room is quiet, save for the sound of your pen scratching against the paper and the occasional creak of the floor as Jinx moves around behind you.

You don't notice her at first, too absorbed in the work in front of you, but then you feel her presence, the weight of it settling beside you. You glance up to find her standing next to your chair, her eyes not quite meeting yours, her expression unreadable. There's a slight quiver in her hands, like she's unsure of what to do next.

You set the pen down, sensing something is different. You look at her fully, your gaze softening as you notice the subtle tremble in her posture.

"Jinx?" you ask, your voice gentle, like you're trying to reach her through the haze of her manic energy. "What's wrong?"

Her lips press together in a thin line, and for a moment, she looks like she's going to pull away, retreating into herself like she usually does. But then, as if she can't help herself, she reaches out and places her hand on your shoulder, just a light touch, but it feels like a bridge between the two of you.

"I... I just wanted to be close," she says softly, her voice a little quieter than usual. "You're always so calm, so steady. And I... I don't know how to do that. But I want to. I want to be with you."

The words are simple, but they hit you harder than anything she's ever said before. You can hear the vulnerability in her voice, the rawness of her admission. And for a moment, everything else fades. The weight of the world, the pressures of being a queen, they all slip away as you focus on the girl standing in front of you.

You reach up, gently brushing her hair out of her face, your fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "You don't have to be anyone else but yourself, Jinx," you say, your voice firm, yet soft. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes meet yours then, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there's no chaos in her gaze, no manic energy. Just her, just the quiet connection that has slowly been growing between you.

Jinx nods, a small, uncertain smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'm still not perfect," she murmurs.

You smile back, your hand still resting on her cheek. "Neither am I. But we can figure it out together."

And in that moment, you realize that despite everything — the chaos, the doubts, the uncertainty — you and Jinx are building something real. Something that, for all its imperfections, is worth holding on to.

The storm may never completely calm, but for the first time, you're both learning how to ride the waves together.

—-

The night falls with an almost eerie quiet. The lights in your room are dim, a soft glow from the lamp by your bedside casting long shadows across the walls. The sound of the city outside is muffled, only the occasional distant noise breaking the silence, but for the most part, everything feels still.

You're lying in bed, the sheets pulled up around your waist, mind wandering as you think over the events of the day. The constant pressure of responsibility weighs on you—meeting with advisors, planning for the future, trying to balance the roles you play in the world. But right now, in this moment, it's just you, alone in the privacy of your room, with nothing but your thoughts and the gentle hum of the space to keep you company.

And then, just as you're about to drift into the comforting embrace of sleep, the door to your room creaks open, the sound barely audible against the quiet.

Your heart skips a beat, and before you can even turn to look, you hear it—the familiar rustle of fabric, the soft padding of feet on the floor, and then the unmistakable whisper of Jinx's voice, low and hesitant.

"Can I come in?"

You turn, blinking at the figure standing in the doorway. She's silhouetted by the faint light, her wild blue hair almost glowing in the soft illumination. The sight of her makes your chest tighten in an inexplicable way. She's holding something close to her chest, her body language a mix of uncertainty and need that you rarely see from her.

"Jinx?" you ask softly, pushing yourself up into a sitting position on the bed. "What's going on?"

She stands there for a moment, her eyes flickering away as she looks down at the pillow she's clutching. Her oversized t-shirt hangs loosely off her frame, one sleeve slipping off her shoulder. The sight of her in only the shirt and her black underwear makes your breath catch, a quiet fire sparking low in your belly. She looks vulnerable, exposed in a way that is almost impossible to ignore, but there's something about the way she's holding herself that tells you this isn't just about her body. There's a deeper need buried underneath, one she's struggling to express.

"I... I don't want to be alone tonight," she admits quietly, her voice small. "Can I sleep here? Just... for tonight?"

The question catches you off guard, her usual manic energy gone, replaced by something softer, something you don't often see in her. Jinx, the girl who's always bursting with wildness, the one who's so used to chaos, is asking for something simple. Something vulnerable. And you can't help but soften, your heart aching at the unspoken longing in her eyes.

You slide over on the bed, making room for her, trying to make the space as welcoming as possible without saying a word. Your gesture is enough. Jinx hesitates for only a moment longer before she crawls into the bed beside you, the soft pillow still pressed against her chest as she slips under the covers. She curls up close to you, just on the edge of the bed at first, as if testing the waters, before her body moves closer, her back against your chest.

For a few moments, there's silence between you two. The kind that feels thick with everything unsaid. You can feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt, the soft rhythm of her breathing as she tries to settle into the stillness. You don't say anything at first, letting her adjust, letting her find the comfort she's so clearly seeking.

But then, her voice breaks the silence, soft and hesitant. "I've been thinking... about how you're always there, you know? How you never leave."

Her words are a quiet confession, one that strikes deep in your chest. She's used to people leaving, to feeling abandoned, to the kind of loss that's burned into her soul. And yet here she is, in your bed, asking for something as simple as your presence.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jinx," you whisper, your hand finding hers beneath the covers, your fingers gently curling around hers. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

She doesn't respond at first, but you feel her body shift, her hand tightening around yours just slightly. Then, slowly, she settles into you, her head resting against your shoulder, the pillow pressed against her chest still cradled like a shield.

It's a strange feeling, this intimacy with her. For so long, Jinx has been the whirlwind, the wild card, always on the move, always untouchable. But here, now, in your arms, she's different. She's fragile, almost, as though she's afraid to let herself relax completely. But with each passing second, you feel her weight melt into yours, the tension in her body slowly unwinding.

You can't help but press a soft kiss to the top of her head, the quiet action gentle, unspoken. It's a reassurance that she's here, that she's safe. That no matter how far she runs or how deep the storm inside her rages, you'll be the calm she can always return to.

Jinx shifts again, this time moving just a little closer, her face tilting slightly to bury herself deeper into the crook of your neck. She lets out a quiet sigh, her breath warm against your skin.

"I don't know how to do this," she murmurs, her voice muffled against you, but you can hear the hint of uncertainty in it. "Be normal. Be... loved."

You swallow hard, the weight of her words pressing on your chest. She's been loved before, of course—by you, by others—but she's never truly felt what it means to be loved in a way that doesn't come with strings, expectations, or chaos. She's never known what it feels like to have someone care without the threat of abandonment lurking behind it. But now, with her so close, so vulnerable in your arms, you're going to show her what it means.

"You don't have to be anything but yourself with me," you say quietly, your fingers gently threading through her hair, a soft caress against her scalp. "I don't need you to be anyone else. I'm here for you, Jinx. I'll always be here, okay?"

She doesn't answer, but you feel the shift in her body. The tension in her muscles eases further, and you know she's hearing you. She's letting herself hear you, letting herself believe that, for once, there's no danger. No one is leaving.

The air between you two is thick now, charged with emotions both tender and fragile. You can't remember the last time you felt this connected, this close to someone. It's not about the kisses or the moments of passion that have defined your relationship until now. It's something quieter, something deeper. It's about trust, and the unspoken promise that no matter how wild the storm inside her becomes, you will be there to weather it together.

Jinx shifts once more, this time her hands finding their way to your chest, her fingertips brushing lightly against your skin. She looks up at you with those wild, chaotic eyes, searching for something she might not even fully understand.

"You're not scared of me?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

You meet her gaze, the question hanging between you like a fragile thread. "No," you say simply, but the answer carries more weight than it seems. "I'm not scared of you, Jinx. I never will be."

Her lips tremble slightly, but she doesn't pull away. She holds your gaze for a long moment, and for once, there's no rush, no urgency, just the quiet pull of two people who've found something in each other that neither of them thought they would.

And then, slowly, she leans up, pressing her lips to yours, gentle and soft, as if testing the waters. The kiss is slow, unhurried, a silent promise that this moment — this connection — is real.

When the kiss breaks, she settles back down against you, her body pressing into yours, as though she can't get close enough. You wrap your arms around her, holding her like she's the most fragile thing in the world. Maybe she is.

For the first time, she allows herself to sleep, her body relaxed, her breathing even as she curls into you. The pillow is still in her arms, but it's more of a comfort now, a reassurance that she's allowed to be vulnerable.

And as you hold her, you feel the quiet promise of the night settle over both of you, the world outside forgotten for a while. The chaos, the uncertainty, all of it fades.

For tonight, it's just you and Jinx. Just the two of you, finding a quiet space in a world that's never still.

—-

The tension in the air was thick, like a storm waiting to break. It had been a slow burn, a fire that you hadn't even realized was smoldering until the heat was unbearable. Every stolen kiss, every moment of passion with Jinx had felt like a secret that didn't need to be kept—but it was. A secret that now felt less like a choice and more like a trap.

It was impossible to ignore the way Jinx made you feel. The chaotic energy she brought to everything—her unpredictability, her manic laughter, the wild spark in her eyes—had pulled you in, and each moment together had made the bond between you stronger. But there was always the edge of danger, the thought in the back of your mind that you were playing with fire, a fire that could burn everything to the ground.

And now, it had.

You hadn't meant to be careless, but when the two of you found yourselves alone, every single time, it was hard not to forget the world around you. She was a whirlwind of chaos, a dangerous beauty, and you couldn't get enough of her. The stolen kisses, the heat of her body pressed against yours, the breathless moments when the world outside didn't matter—all of it had led to this.

A crisis.

You hadn't expected Silco to find out. Not like this. You'd known that eventually, someone would notice, but this wasn't how you'd imagined it. The crash of the door swinging open, the chilling silence that followed as Silco stood in the doorway, eyes hard as steel.

His gaze had flicked from you to Jinx, who was tangled in the sheets beside you, her wild blue braids tousled, her eyes wide and full of panic. She had been too quick to bury herself in the covers, but the damage was already done.

You had barely moved, frozen in place, your heart hammering in your chest. The weight of Silco's eyes felt like it was crushing you. You should've expected this. You should've been smarter. You should've kept your distance.

"Is this what you've been doing?" Silco's voice cut through the stillness like a blade, cold and unforgiving.

Jinx didn't answer, her face flushed, her hands gripping the sheets in a nervous, almost childlike way. You could see the panic in her eyes, the fear of losing everything she had worked so hard for—the acceptance, the sense of belonging. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint Silco, the man who had raised her, even if his methods were questionable at best.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. The situation was precarious, and you needed to think quickly. Silco was powerful, and his wrath was not something you wanted to provoke. But there was also Jinx to consider. You couldn't let her suffer for something that was your fault, too.

"This is between me and Jinx," you said, your voice steady, though your heart pounded in your chest. You forced yourself to stand tall, facing Silco head-on.

His lips twisted into something close to a smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You think this is just between you and her?" His gaze flicked to Jinx, then back to you. "You're older than she is by a significant amount. And I'm assuming you've made the choice to be less discreet about it?"

You swallowed hard. He was right. There was a large age gap between you and Jinx, something that had always felt insignificant in the heat of the moment but now seemed impossible to ignore. What were you thinking? What were you doing? You weren't just crossing boundaries, you were shattering them.

"I didn't mean for it to get out of hand," you said, your voice low, but firm. "I care about her, Silco. More than I can explain. But I wasn't using her. I promise."

Silco's eyes narrowed. "You're either incredibly naive or a fool. Jinx doesn't need someone like you. She has enough issues to deal with without adding more complications into the mix."

Jinx stirred in the bed, her hands gripping the sheets tighter as she finally sat up. She looked at Silco with wide eyes, her voice shaky but determined. "I'm not a little girl anymore, Silco." Her words were a defiance that you rarely saw in her, a reflection of her own internal struggle. She wasn't just fighting for you, she was fighting for herself, for the right to choose her own path.

Silco's gaze softened for a fraction of a second, but it was gone just as quickly. He took a step forward, his presence looming, his shadow casting over the two of you. "You're my responsibility, Jinx. And I won't let someone like them destroy everything we've built."

The words stung more than you expected. They were a harsh reminder of the difference between the two of you—a difference that neither time nor passion could erase. You weren't just an outsider to this world; you were a complication, a potential risk to everything Silco had worked for. And Jinx, for all her brilliance and chaos, was still tied to him, a piece of his puzzle.

"I'm not trying to destroy anything," you said, your voice quieter now, more vulnerable. "But I can't walk away from her, Silco. I'm not going to."

Jinx's eyes were locked on Silco, her body tense, her fingers still clutching the covers tightly as if she might pull them up and hide from this confrontation. But she didn't. She stayed in place, her gaze fixed and steady as she spoke again, her voice clearer this time.

"You don't get to decide for me anymore," she said, her words sharp, though her hands were trembling. "I'm not some fragile thing that needs to be protected from the world. I make my own choices, even if you don't like them."

Silco's jaw clenched. He was silent for a long moment, as though weighing his options. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating, and you could feel your own heart racing in your chest.

Finally, he spoke again, his tone cold but almost... resigned. "I don't care what you do, Jinx. But understand this—if this relationship jeopardizes everything I've worked for, if it threatens the power I've built, I will not hesitate to make it stop."

You held Jinx's gaze, the weight of Silco's words heavy in the air. This wasn't just about you and her anymore. This was about the world they had built together, a world that you had unwittingly become a part of. But that didn't change how you felt. It didn't change the fact that you couldn't walk away from Jinx, not now, not when she needed someone to stand by her.

"I'll take responsibility for my actions, Silco," you said firmly, standing your ground. "But I won't leave her. Not for anything."

The silence that followed was deafening. Jinx's hand found yours, squeezing tightly, as if trying to reassure herself that you were still here, still standing by her. Silco didn't say anything else. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall, leaving you and Jinx in the tense aftermath.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the situation hung heavily between you, but it wasn't just Silco's words that lingered in the air—it was the uncertainty, the fear of what might come next.

Jinx finally exhaled, her body deflating as she leaned into you. "I don't know if I can keep doing this, you know?" Her voice was small, vulnerable, a side of her that you rarely saw. "I don't want to lose you. But I don't want to lose everything, either."

You cupped her face gently, wiping away the tear that had escaped down her cheek. "You won't lose me, Jinx. Not ever."

And despite the tension, despite the uncertainty, you knew one thing for sure—you weren't walking away. Not from her, and not from the consequences that would follow. Together, you would face whatever came next.

—-

You've never been a stranger to pressure, but this? This feels different.

Silco has you under a microscope, his sharp eyes trained on you from every angle, observing, waiting. It's like the weight of his gaze never leaves you, a constant presence in the back of your mind. Every action, every decision is scrutinized. He's waiting for you to slip, for you to falter. One mistake, one distraction, and the carefully constructed empire he's built will crumble.

And you're pretty sure that mistake, that moment of weakness, will be Jinx.

The thing is, Jinx has never been easy to ignore. She's a storm, a whirlwind of energy and chaos that you're not sure you can even fully control. And yet, for all her unpredictability, for all the manic sparks in her eyes, she's become something of a constant for you. Something grounding, something you never expected. When she's near, everything else seems to fall away.

But that's the problem.

Silco has seen it too. He knows the connection between the two of you, even if it's something that neither of you can fully explain. His subtle hints, his insinuations, they never stop. He's watching for cracks in the armor, watching for the moment when you'll let your guard down and let her in too deep.

You can feel it every time you're alone with her. The pressure to stay focused, to keep your mind from straying, to not let the heat of the moment distract you from what's important. And yet, Jinx never makes it easy.

It's late, and you're sitting in your office, the quiet hum of the night only interrupted by the soft rustle of papers on your desk. You're reviewing a report, your mind going over numbers and figures, trying to keep track of the ever-changing situation. It's difficult to concentrate, especially with the weight of Silco's eyes on you. You know he's watching from somewhere—just out of view, waiting for you to slip up.

The door creaks open, and before you can even react, Jinx is standing there, her wild blue braids framing her face, her chaotic eyes glinting in the dim light. She's wearing a simple oversized tee, the fabric hanging off her slender frame, and her black underwear peek out from beneath it. It's an image that would be enough to distract anyone, but you fight to keep your focus. This is not the time for that.

"Got a minute?" she asks, her voice full of that manic energy you've come to both love and dread.

You meet her gaze, feeling the pull of her presence like gravity, but you force yourself to remain composed. "I'm busy, Jinx," you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. "I've got work to do."

She tilts her head, the playful smirk curling at the corners of her lips. "Work? What work? You can't be that busy. Come on, just a little distraction. You deserve it."

She steps closer, her body language almost predatory, the way she prowls toward you, but you stay firm. This is where Silco's eyes might be. If you let Jinx in now, even for a moment, you know what it will look like.

You take a deep breath and try to refocus. "I really can't right now, Jinx. I've got a lot on my plate."

Her eyes flash, and for a moment, the manic gleam turns into something softer, something more vulnerable. "Come on," she says, her voice quieter now, the usual chaos replaced by something almost... sad. "I'm just so tired of being alone in my head. Just for a minute, okay?"

Your resolve falters, just for a second, as she sits beside you, the space between you two narrowing. There's that pull again, the magnetic force that's always there when she's around. You've always known that Jinx's presence is like an addiction, but tonight, it feels like more than that. It feels like she's reaching out, not for distraction, but for something deeper.

You meet her eyes, and for the first time, you don't see the usual fire and intensity. Instead, you see a raw vulnerability, the kind that makes your chest tighten. You can feel Silco's eyes on you, even though he's nowhere near, and you know you can't let your focus drift.

"Jinx..." you start, your voice shaking a little more than you expect. "I can't keep doing this, you know? I can't keep losing myself to you. You're... distracting, and you know that."

She flinches, the vulnerability disappearing as quickly as it came. The walls go up again, and you can see the familiar storm brewing behind her eyes. "Yeah, I know. I'm a distraction, I get it," she mutters, standing abruptly and backing away. "Forget it. It's fine."

"Jinx, wait," you call after her, standing up from your desk. You can't let her go like this—not when you see the hurt flickering behind her deflection.

But she doesn't turn back, her footsteps quick and decisive as she heads for the door. "No, you don't get it," she says over her shoulder, her voice brittle. "You can't just turn me off when it's convenient. You don't get to be the one to decide when I'm too much. I don't care if you're watching me. If you're too distracted by me, that's your problem, not mine."

She slams the door behind her, the sound echoing through the hall, and the weight of her departure presses heavily on you. You know she's running away, retreating into the chaos she thrives in, the chaos that's both the thing that draws you to her and the thing that makes everything impossible.

You exhale slowly, trying to steady your breath. Silco will be watching. He'll want to know how you react to this. He'll want to know if you let yourself slip, if you let the distraction become a mistake. You can't give him the satisfaction. You can't let Jinx be your undoing.

But it's getting harder.

The next few days are a blur. You focus on the work—dealing with advisors, handling the intricacies of running the city, putting out fires left and right. But the work never feels like enough to drown out the thoughts of Jinx. She's everywhere, and she's nowhere. You catch glimpses of her in the halls, hear her laughter echoing through the corridors, but whenever you try to approach, she's gone, always just out of reach.

And yet, despite the distance, you still feel her. You still hear her voice in your mind, feel her touch on your skin. The pull is unrelenting, a constant tug that keeps you anchored to her, even when you know you should let go.

It's the night after another tense meeting with Silco that it happens again. You're alone in your office, trying to make sense of the mess that is the city's politics, when the door opens without warning.

Jinx steps inside, her presence like a gust of wind that sweeps through the room. She's not wearing much—just a loose tee and those black underwear that she knows drive you mad—and there's a look in her eyes, one you can't quite place.

You feel the weight of the situation before she even speaks. This is the moment. The one where everything could go wrong.

"Don't tell me you're still working," she says, her tone teasing but her eyes flickering with something darker. "We both know you don't care about any of this crap." She crosses the room with a single step, closing the distance between you in an instant.

You try to stay focused, to maintain control, but it's hard. She's too close. Too dangerous.

"I can't be distracted right now, Jinx," you say, your voice strained as you step back, trying to put some space between you.

She tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Distracted? Or are you just scared of what you feel?"

You meet her gaze, a flood of emotions hitting you all at once. You're scared. You're terrified, in fact. But not of her. Of what could happen if you let your guard down too much, if you let her in even further.

"I'm not scared of you, Jinx," you whisper, your voice hoarse. "I'm scared of what could happen ."

And just like that, everything changes. The pull, the pressure, the burning tension between you—it all comes crashing down in an instant.

For the first time, you allow yourself to feel it. You allow yourself to reach out and take her hand, to pull her closer, to let everything else slip away. And for a moment, you forget about Silco's eyes, about the weight of the world, about all the things that are supposed to matter.

All that matters now is her.

Days pass in a blur, and the weight of responsibility drapes heavily over you. Silco's presence looms large, his expectations hanging like a shadow, constantly reminding you that there's little room for distraction. His meticulous observation never lets up, and despite your best efforts, the exhaustion from it all begins to wear on you. It's a silent, creeping fatigue that burrows deep into your bones—an ache that can't be relieved with work alone.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you decide to give yourself a little break.

It's a rare decision, one that feels almost reckless, but you've been running on fumes for too long. Maybe, just maybe, taking a moment to breathe won't hurt. Besides, you know exactly where you need to go to escape, even if it's just for a short while.

You make your way through the winding halls, your footsteps echoing against the cold stone floors. The familiar path to Jinx's hideout has become a comfort, a small corner of peace in an otherwise chaotic world. You don't tell anyone where you're going. The Firelights all know what's between you and her, but you don't need anyone else to know—not now, not while the air is thick with tension.

The moment you step into the hidden corner of her domain, the air shifts. It's like the weight of the outside world falls away, leaving only the madness of her, the ever-present energy that pulses from her. There's no order here, no structure—just Jinx and her chaos.

And for the first time in days, you feel the tightness in your chest start to ease.

You find her in the corner of the room, hunched over a workbench littered with parts and half-finished creations. She's got her headphones on, lost in her own world, fingers working frantically to assemble something that probably doesn't make sense to anyone but her. You pause, just for a moment, watching her in that familiar state of manic focus, her wild blue braids swaying as she leans forward.

You smile, but it's a tired, soft thing—a rare moment of peace in the middle of the storm that's always swirling around her.

Her back is to you, but she's always aware of your presence. It's one of the things you've come to understand about her. She knows when you're nearby, even without turning around.

And then, like a switch being flipped, she's up on her feet, spinning around with that infectious energy that both unsettles and excites you.

"There you are!" she says, grinning like she's just won a battle. "I thought you'd forgotten about me." Her voice, though tinged with playful teasing, betrays a flicker of something deeper—something that feels like longing.

You walk toward her, the room narrowing as you approach, and with each step, the weight of the outside world seems to fall away. It doesn't matter who's watching or what responsibilities you've left behind for this brief moment. All that matters is Jinx, and the way she draws you in like a magnet, pulling you into her chaos and warmth.

"Forgot about you?" you repeat, a soft chuckle slipping out. "Not a chance."

Jinx pouts, though there's a playful gleam in her eyes as she takes a step closer to you. "Good. Because you know, I've got so many things to do—so many—but I figured I'd make time for you." She lowers her voice, a slight tilt to her head as she steps even closer. "But only if you make it worth my while."

The air between you thickens, the same tension that always lingers around her, the kind that makes your heart race and your breath hitch. She's close now—too close, but never close enough.

You reach for her, your fingers brushing her wild blue hair, and she leans into your touch. The softness of her skin, the heat radiating from her body, it all reminds you of the moments when everything else doesn't matter—when it's just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

"I'm here, aren't I?" you murmur, your voice quiet, almost reverent.

Jinx smirks up at you, her chaotic energy swirling around her, but there's something different in her eyes tonight—something softer, more vulnerable than usual.

"You're lucky I let you off the leash today," she teases, but the playfulness in her voice is tinged with something that feels like need. "The city's a mess without you."

You press your forehead to hers, closing your eyes for a moment. You can't help but feel the weight of it all—the pressure, the responsibilities, and the constant pull between wanting to be here with her and needing to be there, in the city, with Silco's watchful eye bearing down on you.

But here, now, in this quiet little space where it's just the two of you, it feels like everything is possible. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to be selfish—to let go of the masks you've been wearing, to let the storm of responsibilities fall away and just be with her.

The world outside doesn't exist here. Only Jinx. Only the two of you.

You feel her hand curl around yours, pulling you gently toward the couch in the corner of the room. You sit down, her body settling beside you. There's no rush, no urgency, just the slow, comfortable proximity that speaks volumes of what's left unsaid between the two of you.

"I missed you," she admits, her voice quieter now, almost shy in its sincerity. "You're always busy, and I... I don't like being alone in my head, y'know? It gets... too loud sometimes."

You nod, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her words. "I know, Jinx. I know exactly what you mean."

She tilts her head, studying your face for a moment before leaning in, her lips brushing softly against yours. It's a simple kiss—tender, but with a heat that builds steadily between you. You let it deepen, your hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer until there's no space left between you.

And for just a little while, the world fades away, leaving only the softness of her touch, the warmth of her body against yours, and the quiet intimacy that blooms between you in the dim light of her hideout.

Just Jinx. And just you.

—-

The sharp echo of your boots reverberates against the cold stone of if your office as you walk toward your desk, the weight of responsibility a familiar burden on your shoulders. You know he's watching you—always watching you—and the pressure of his gaze presses down harder every day. The paperwork piles higher with each passing hour, more demands, more expectations. But you can't afford to mess up. Not when everything is riding on your ability to maintain your position, to keep your head above water, and to not give in to distractions.

Which is exactly when she decides to make her move.

Jinx.

You should have known. The signs are always there—the sudden, manic burst of energy, the way she always seems to find a way to push the limits, to make things harder than they need to be. She knows the stakes. She knows how much you've been juggling, how tightly wound you are, but that doesn't stop her. If anything, it only seems to spur her on.

The door creaks open behind you, and before you can even turn around, you feel her presence. The familiar manic energy fills the room, and a small, involuntary sigh slips from your lips. She doesn't even say a word—she doesn't need to. You can feel her creeping up behind you, the weight of her body brushing against you as she slides into the space under your desk, a movement so fluid and deliberate that it takes you a moment to fully realize what she's doing.

A small gasp leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you immediately turn your focus back to the mountain of paperwork in front of you, trying to ignore the warmth of her body settling beneath your desk. But it's hard. So hard. Jinx has always had a way of making it impossible to focus when she wants to.

Her soft giggle fills the silence, and you know she can see the way you're trying to hold it together, trying to keep your mind focused on the task at hand. But it's impossible. The air is thick with her presence, and it's a pull you can't resist.

"Why are you so serious?" Jinx's voice rings out, teasing, just above a whisper, but loud enough for you to hear. "You're always all business and no play."

You try to ignore her, trying to keep your composure, but the way her breath brushes against your legs, the way she shifts under the desk, it's all too much. You feel the heat rising in your body, your concentration faltering. It's as if she knows exactly how to undo you. How to make everything seem... insignificant compared to the way she makes you feel.

A small, soft chuckle slips from your lips, but you don't dare let it escalate. You can't afford to. Silco is watching, and any moment of weakness might cost you more than you can bear. The last thing you need is for Jinx's chaos to make you lose control.

But she doesn't care.

You feel her hands skimming up the side of your legs, gently brushing against your skin, the touch almost innocent, yet so charged with her unpredictable energy. It's a game, to her—something to make you break, something to test your resolve. She's always testing you, always pushing the boundaries of what's allowed.

"Hey," she murmurs, her voice dropping lower, seductive and full of mischief. "You miss me or something?"

You can't help the way your breath catches, the sudden spike of heat that floods your chest. The storm inside you threatens to burst, but you fight it, keeping your hands steady on the desk, trying to maintain your composure.

"I'm working, Jinx," you manage to say, but the words sound weaker than you'd like. You try to keep your voice calm, collected, but even to your own ears, it's too shaky, too betraying of the effect she's having on you.

She doesn't respond immediately. Instead, she shifts closer, her body pressing up against yours from underneath the desk, her fingers trailing along your leg in teasing, maddening circles. You try not to let the sensation overwhelm you, but it's hard. So, so hard.

You feel the pressure of Silco's watchful gaze hanging over you, the silent reminder that any slip-up could ruin everything. He's still in the next room, likely waiting to see if you can stay on track. But Jinx doesn't care. She never does.

You take a deep breath, your eyes darting between the mountain of paperwork in front of you and the sensation of Jinx's touch creeping up your thigh. You're struggling. Your mind is foggy, and you feel the weight of temptation pressing against your willpower. It's a constant battle between duty and desire, responsibility and chaos.

Another shift. This time, she's closer, closer than ever, her lips brushing against the inside of your thigh, her breath warm and teasing.

"Don't you want to take a break?" she asks softly, the question laced with a promise. "You deserve it, y'know?"

The words hang in the air, heavy and charged with meaning. You know she's tempting you, pushing you toward something you can't afford. The desire to pull her closer is overwhelming, but you're fighting it. For Silco. For your position.

But damn it's hard.

Your fingers curl around the edge of your desk as you try to focus, trying to tune out the feel of her touch. Every part of you wants to give in. To let go. To let Jinx's chaotic energy take you away from this place, from the pressure of Silco's expectations, from the suffocating need to always be perfect.

She shifts again, this time slipping her hands further up, her fingers teasing along your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you can't ignore her any longer.

You inhale sharply, your body tensing, fighting to keep yourself composed.

"Jinx..." you murmur, voice trembling despite your best effort. "We can't—"

"Oh, but we can," she interrupts, her voice light and playful, almost singsong in its tone. "You're just too uptight. It's cute, but also..." She trails off, her lips brushing against your skin again, the sensation so close, so tempting.

The line between work and play is blurring, and with every passing second, it feels harder to distinguish between the two. You're slipping, falling under her touch, under her chaos. The need to remain strong, to stay focused, is becoming impossible to hold onto.

And then, just as you think you might lose it, the sound of footsteps outside the office catches your attention. You freeze, the sudden reminder of Silco's presence snapping you back to reality. Your heart races as you tense, your entire body on edge.

Jinx notices your sudden shift. Her eyes flash with something like amusement, and for a moment, you can almost hear the mental smirk on her lips.

"You're scared he'll catch us, huh?" she whispers, her tone teasing yet strangely tender.

You don't answer her right away, but you know she's right. Silco's scrutiny, his watchful eyes, make it harder to keep your resolve. But no matter how tempting it is to give in to Jinx, to let her pull you further down this rabbit hole of chaos, you can't afford it. You can't let her undo everything.

With a quiet, frustrated sigh, you pull away, pushing her hands away from your body. The sudden movement startles her, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she simply watches you, her expression unreadable for a moment.

"You're always so serious," she mutters, the playful edge to her voice still lingering. "I didn't think you'd break."

"I'm not breaking," you say firmly, meeting her gaze. "I'm just... I can't mess this up. Not now."

Jinx tilts her head, studying you with a gaze that's equal parts curiosity and affection. She doesn't speak for a moment, just watches you, her manic energy simmering beneath the surface. Finally, she sighs, her lips curling into that mischievous grin you've come to know so well.

"Well, fine," she says, voice light but with an edge of something deeper. "But I'm still gonna make you take a break, sooner or later."

You can't help but smile at her antics, the chaos that she always brings. She might push you to the edge, but in the end, you wouldn't want it any other way. Because as much as she distracts you, as much as she's a force you can't control, she's also the one thing that keeps you grounded. Even when everything else feels like it's slipping away.

"I'll take a break when I'm ready," you say, your voice softening.

Jinx shrugs, her grin never faltering. "We'll see."

—-

The moonlight filters through the tall windows of the room, casting pale blue shadows on the walls, as you lean back against the desk, arms folded. The soft hum of the city fills the space, the distant sound of the undercity alive and ever-moving. But none of it matters right now. It's just you and her, Jinx—the one who's been a constant whirlwind, always pulling you into her chaos, never letting you find your footing without throwing you off-balance.

Tonight, you've had enough. Tonight, you're the one pulling the strings.

You can hear her steps before you see her, the scuff of boots on the stone floor followed by a low, almost purring hum of mischief. You don't turn to face her just yet; you can feel the tension between you growing, the air crackling with something primal, something that has been building for days.

Jinx. Always the one in control. Always the one pushing, teasing, tempting. Her chaotic energy was like a storm, sweeping over everything in its path. But tonight, it's your turn to turn the tables. Tonight, it's your test of will against hers.

You hear her pause behind you, then the soft click of the door closing. Her presence fills the room in an instant, that manic energy practically tangible in the air around you. You feel her eyes on you, her gaze burning with that wild curiosity, that spark that makes your pulse quicken despite yourself.

"You've been so... serious lately," she purrs from behind you, her voice light, teasing, as though she's dancing on the edge of your patience. "What's going on? Something on your mind, love?"

You don't turn around immediately. Instead, you let the silence stretch between you, stretching the tension even thinner, letting it settle like a storm cloud hanging above your heads.

She's used to pushing you. You've always given her space to tease and pull at your buttons, to make you falter, to make you lose control just a little. But tonight, it's going to be different. Tonight, she's the one who's going to lose control.

You turn around slowly, deliberately, and she's right there, standing far too close, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips, her eyes wide and brimming with excitement. Her usual wild energy is still there, but it's a little too sharp tonight, almost as if she's expecting something, waiting for you to slip.

"You think I'm serious?" you say quietly, your voice low and smooth, a challenge in the words. "You think I'm the one who's too serious?"

Her eyes narrow, the playful look in them sharpening, the storm clouds in her expression shifting ever so slightly. She steps forward, her bare feet barely making a sound on the stone floor as she closes the distance between you. Her lips curl into a dangerous grin, the glint of mischief never fading.

"Well, it's just... you've been so uptight. So tense, like you're always waiting for something to go wrong. You need to loosen up." She steps closer, pressing herself against you, her body just a breath away from yours, the heat between you palpable.

You can feel the pressure rising, feel the storm brewing in your chest. She's so close now, so close you can practically feel the electricity in the air between you. The space that's always been there, the space she's constantly invading, narrowing until there's no air left to breathe.

You move fast. Too fast for her to fully anticipate.

Before she can blink, you've grabbed her by the wrists, yanking her forward with a strength that surprises even her. Her eyes widen in shock as you push her against the wall with a force that makes her gasp, her breath catching in her throat. She's completely unprepared for the shift in power, and it feels damn good.

For a moment, she doesn't speak. The only sound in the room is the sharp intake of breath as she's pinned, your body pressed against hers, your knee wedged between her legs, a deliberate push that has her legs spreading instinctively, a soft, startled noise escaping her lips.

Her eyes flicker with surprise, then something deeper, something darker, and for once, it's her who's caught off guard. You hold her firmly, not giving her an inch to wiggle free, not letting her take control. For once, the tables have turned, and you're the one in charge.

"You wanted to mess with me," you murmur, voice a velvet whisper against the shell of her ear, your breath hot against her skin. "You've been teasing me, pushing me, and now? Now it's my turn."

Jinx's breath hitches at the challenge in your voice, the palpable tension between you. Her manic energy crackles as her hands fumble slightly against your grip, but she doesn't fight it—not yet. Instead, she tilts her head, her wild blue eyes locking onto yours, a mixture of defiance and something else entirely flickering in them.

"You think you can control me?" she asks, her voice low and teasing, a dangerous edge to it. "You think you can make me break?"

You smirk, the thrill of having the upper hand surging through you. It's everything you've wanted. To have her, to make her feel this helpless, to make her second-guess herself for once.

"I don't need to make you break," you reply, your lips curling with satisfaction. "I just need to make you listen."

Your knee presses deeper between her legs, the pressure enough to make her body tense, her breath catching. Her eyes flicker for a brief moment, as though she's unsure how to react. The sudden change in the dynamic has her thrown off balance, and for a moment, she just stares at you, her lips slightly parted, her hands still gripping your arms, unsure whether to push you away or pull you closer.

You're not done yet, though. You lean in, your lips brushing against her ear as you speak softly, your voice filled with authority.

"I've been playing your game," you say, the words slipping out with a slow, deliberate pace. "Letting you think you can have your way with me. But now... now I'm going to teach you a lesson."

You lean in further, your lips brushing just barely against her throat, the sound of her breathing ragged and sharp. The tension between you is thick, your body flush against hers as her breath quickens with every passing moment.

For a long, drawn-out moment, Jinx remains silent, her eyes locked on yours. You can see the battle raging within her. The desire to fight back, to claim control, to push you away, but also, you can see the way her body responds to your touch, the way her breath becomes shallow, her pulse racing. It's all too much. She's so caught up in her own game that she doesn't know how to play anymore.

And in that moment, you know you've won.

You pull back just slightly, enough to look her in the eyes, your face mere inches from hers. You don't let go of her wrists, keeping her firmly in place. She doesn't struggle. She doesn't even try to break free.

"You're mine now," you whisper, the words soft and possessive, a declaration that makes her shiver. The power dynamics have shifted completely, and for once, you have her exactly where you want her.

Her lips tremble for a moment, as though she's about to speak, but instead, she lets out a soft breath and shakes her head, her chaotic eyes flashing with a mixture of awe, confusion, and something that feels like surrender.

"I didn't think you had it in you," she mutters, her voice a little shaky now, her manic energy faltering under the weight of your control.

You smile, the satisfaction surging through you. You've won this round. You've proven that you can match her chaos with your own brand of control.

"I don't need to have it in me," you reply, voice calm, sure. "I just needed to stop letting you take the reins."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning, the silence stretching for a moment as the two of you stand there, caught in this test of wills. Neither of you has won completely, but for once, the balance is tipped in your favor.

Jinx's breath stills, and for the first time in a long while, there's a look of uncertainty in her eyes. It's a look that says she doesn't know whether she wants to push you away or pull you closer. But tonight, that's something only she can figure out.

You pull away slowly, almost deliberately, as the weight of the moment begins to settle. Jinx's eyes flicker with surprise, confusion, and something you can't quite place. She doesn't make a move to stop you, but her gaze stays locked on yours, wide and uncertain, like a storm waiting to break.

For a brief second, you stand there, savoring the power of the situation, the way the room feels charged with the tension that's crackling between you. You can practically feel her pulse racing, her breath quick and shallow as she's left hanging in the balance of your control.

And then, with a calmness that feels almost cruel, you turn your back on her.

You don't look back. You don't need to.

Your footsteps echo in the silence of the room as you walk toward the door, every step deliberate, every move calculated. You can almost feel her eyes on your back, her gaze burning into you, as if she's waiting for you to turn around, to give her some sign that you're not really leaving her like this.

But you don't. You keep walking, your pace slow but steady, knowing exactly what you're doing.

Jinx doesn't speak. She doesn't move. But you can feel her presence behind you, her energy still crackling in the air like a live wire, the tension hanging heavy in the space between you.

You reach for the doorknob, your hand wrapping around the cool metal. But just as you're about to open the door and leave her there, something within you hesitates. A flicker of doubt, of something deeper and more complicated, tugs at your insides.

For a moment, you think you might turn around. Maybe say something, offer some comfort, maybe tell her that it's not what it seems, that you're not walking away for good. But that thought fades just as quickly as it came.

Instead, you open the door. The sharp click of the hinges breaks the silence, the finality of it ringing in the air like the closing of a chapter.

"Good night, Jinx," you say, your voice calm, cool, almost distant, as you slip out of the room.

You leave her there, standing in the middle of the room, vulnerable and unmoored. You don't hear the sound of her reaction, the shift in her breath, the crash of her emotions. You don't need to. You already know it's there.

And yet, as you close the door behind you, a tiny part of you feels a strange satisfaction at having done this. You've left her hanging. You've shown her what it feels like to be on the other side of that power dynamic. To be the one who's left with all the questions, all the uncertainty, all the raw emotions that come when you realize you can't control everything.

You've left her high and dry, and as much as it might sting, you know she won't forget it. You know she'll come after you. She'll try to pull you back into her chaos, to mess with your head the same way she always does.

But for tonight, at least, you've taken control.

And there's something immensely satisfying in that.

—-

You'd known for a long time that Jinx was never going to tiptoe around anything. Subtlety? Finesse? They weren't in her vocabulary. The second she decided she wanted something, she went after it full force, consequences be damned. But this? This was different. This was reckless, even by Jinx's standards.

You'd been careful. For both of you. Silco was always watching, always scrutinizing. The weight of his gaze had kept you in line, kept you from making rash decisions that could throw everything you'd worked for into chaos. But now, standing in the center of the room with Jinx beside you, the air thick with tension, you realized it was too late to go back. Jinx had decided that the time for hiding was over.

"Hey, guess what?" Jinx says, her voice loud, almost too loud for the small space, a manic grin spreading across her face. She's holding your hand so tightly it almost hurts, but you don't pull away. You're caught up in her whirlwind, just as you always are.

"What are you doing, Jinx?" You feel your heart rate pick up, a sense of impending disaster settling in your chest.

She turns to face the crew — to face Silco, standing just behind them, his eyes narrowed and unreadable. "I'm tired of sneaking around. I'm done pretending like I don't want what I want."

You freeze, your blood turning cold. You've been with Jinx long enough to know what's coming. You've seen her reckless streak a thousand times, but this... this is different. She's pulling you into this, no holding back, no second thoughts.

"Done pretending?" You whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "Jinx, this isn't the time—"

But she's not listening. Jinx has already turned on the charm, leaning back against your shoulder as she smirks. "Yeah, I've been good, but I can't keep pretending, not anymore. I'm done hiding what I want."

A deep breath. She's doing it. She's doing exactly what you knew she would. There's no turning back now.

"I'm with [your name]," she declares to the entire room, her voice loud, her confidence unwavering. "We're together. Deal with it."

The room falls into an eerie silence, and all you can hear is the pounding of your heart in your ears. You feel Silco's presence looming behind you, even though you can't bring yourself to look at him yet. You don't need to. You can feel the weight of his anger, his disappointment, pressing down on you like a boulder.

Jinx, however, is unbothered. She's always been unbothered, even in the face of impending disaster. Her grin only widens as she waits for a reaction, daring anyone to challenge her.

The crew shifts uncomfortably, glancing at each other, unsure how to handle the situation. Some of them look shocked, others confused, but no one speaks up. They all know that silence right now is their best option.

"I told you this would be fun," Jinx mutters, turning her head to glance at you with that gleam of mischief in her eyes. "It's about time, don't you think?"

You can't help but feel the weight of the situation settling in your stomach. Silco doesn't take well to this kind of disruption. You're sure the storm is coming, but you don't know when.

And then there's Sevika.

Sevika's presence always has a calming effect on the room, and she stands there, arms crossed, not quite approving but not quite disapproving either. Her dark eyes flicker to you and Jinx, her mouth curving ever so slightly into a knowing smile. You can't tell if she's amused, supportive, or just entertained by the chaos unfolding in front of her.

You meet her gaze for a second, and she nods ever so slightly, her expression unreadable, but there's something in the way she stands that makes you believe — just for a moment — that maybe, just maybe, she's on your side in this. Even if it's against Silco.

Jinx doesn't care. She's already taking her place at your side, completely unshaken by the heavy silence filling the room. She doesn't even seem to notice how all eyes are on her, how the tension in the air is palpable. To her, this is just another fun game to play, another rule to break.

"Do you hear that?" she says, her voice taunting. "That's the sound of you all trying to figure out how to handle us. What are you gonna do? Kick me out? Make me leave?" She snorts, completely uninterested in their reactions. "You wouldn't dare."

You finally turn to face Silco, who's been watching you the entire time, his expression unreadable but cold. His eyes lock onto yours with a sharpness that feels like a physical blow.

"I never thought you'd be so reckless," he says, his voice low and controlled, but there's an edge to it that you can't ignore. "Do you understand what this means? You're jeopardizing everything."

You open your mouth to speak, but Jinx cuts you off, leaning into you, her voice playful, as if she's taunting Silco with every word. "Oh, I understand perfectly. And guess what? I'm not going anywhere. So you can sit there and glare all you want, but this—" She gestures between you two, your hands still intertwined "—this is real. And you're gonna have to deal with it."

The crew watches in stunned silence, unsure how to proceed. But no one moves, no one speaks. Even Sevika, who's usually a voice of reason, stays silent, watching the two of you with quiet approval. The air is thick, and you can almost feel the tension crackling around you.

Silco's gaze never wavers, but you see the storm brewing in his eyes. He doesn't like being challenged, especially not in front of the crew. And yet, as much as you fear what's coming, you know you've just crossed a line that can never be uncrossed. There's no going back from this.

"You don't understand what you've just done," Silco repeats, his voice like ice. "You've made a spectacle of this. And now, everyone in this room will know that you've put your loyalty where your heart is. Do you know what that means?"

Jinx grins, utterly unfazed. "Yeah, I do. It means we're done hiding. Done pretending. If you want to do something about it, you know where to find us."

There's a sharp intake of breath from the crew, but Jinx doesn't care. She's staring down Silco now, her chin lifted defiantly, daring him to do something. The room is still silent, the tension hanging like a dark cloud over all of you. And in the midst of it all, Jinx doesn't flinch.

You stand there, next to her, your mind racing. There's a part of you that's scared. Terrified, even. You've never crossed this line before, and the consequences are too big to ignore. But there's another part of you, a part that's always been pulled in by Jinx's chaos, that feels strangely free. For the first time in a long while, you're not hiding. You're standing beside her, and you're not afraid of what comes next.

Silco takes a step forward, his cold eyes locked on yours. His silence stretches, suffocating. But it's broken when Sevika speaks, her voice low, yet firm.

"I don't think there's anything left to say," she says, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. "It's done. Whether you like it or not."

Jinx flashes her a grin. "I knew you'd get it, Sev."

And with that, the tension in the room shifts, like a crack splitting a stone. It's still there, thick and undeniable, but it's different now. The crew is divided, uncertain, and Silco's glare only deepens. But you and Jinx? You're not backing down.

"You've made your bed," Silco says, his voice cold with finality. "Now lie in it."

You stand tall, not backing down, but silently you brace for the storm to come. You know this is only the beginning. There will be consequences, and they'll be harsh. But right now, in this moment, you and Jinx have given no more fucks.

It was official now.

The air around the hideout had shifted, and the tension that had once hung in the walls like a heavy fog now felt like something else entirely. There were no more secret meetings, no more stolen moments in hidden corners of the hideout, no more playing the careful game of keeping everything under wraps. You and Jinx were out—not just to the crew but to everyone who'd ever wondered about the two of you.

And surprisingly, the sky didn't fall.

You could feel the eyes of the crew on you, but no longer in the way you expected. No more whispers when you passed by, no more half-hidden glances. It wasn't even about making things public—it was the way Jinx, for the first time in what felt like forever, allowed herself to be with you openly. The constant chaos inside her mind seemed to have quieted, even if just a little, by the simple act of not hiding what she wanted. Not hiding you.

Even Silco's disapproving gaze, which had once haunted every step you took, felt less suffocating now. His cold silence, his refusal to acknowledge what had happened, had settled into something new: a grudge, but not an explosive one. He still hated it. But there was something about Jinx, about how she practically glowed when she was with you, that made it hard to deny the undeniable bond between you two. The way she clung to you with no shame, how she kissed you in front of everyone, how she was just... there now, in every room, in every corner.

"Guess what?" Jinx asked, her voice a little too loud in the middle of the crew meeting. She was leaning over the table, her hand brushing against yours, her wild blue hair cascading over her shoulders in a tangled mess. But that didn't matter. What mattered was the way she smiled at you—genuine, no games, no tricks, just you and her.

You raised an eyebrow, but you already knew. "What?"

"We're finally official," Jinx declared, grinning like a mischievous cat. "So no more pretending, right?" Her eyes sparkled, a little bit of that manic energy still bubbling under the surface, but it was tempered by something lighter. Something more real.

The crew exchanged looks. Silco, of course, didn't acknowledge it directly. He sat at the head of the table, his gaze fixed on a map as if pretending you and Jinx didn't exist was the best solution. His disapproval lingered like a dark cloud, but there was nothing he could do now. Nothing to stop it.

Sevika, on the other hand, didn't hide her curiosity. She watched the two of you like an aunt watching her niece with a deep interest, though there was a quiet kind of approval behind her sharp, calculating gaze. She didn't speak up, but you caught the glint in her eye—the one that told you she was secretly amused by the way Jinx was dragging everyone into her world.

And oddly enough, it was Sevika who made the first real move. "Well," she said, her tone even and somewhat casual, but you could tell she was holding back a smile, "if that's the way it's going to be, you two might as well own it. Can't hide from Silco forever." She gave a slight tilt of her head toward Silco's direction, but he didn't react.

The tension didn't dissipate entirely, of course. Silco's presence had a weight to it that wouldn't simply disappear because of some public declaration. But there was a change. You could feel it, like a collective sigh of relief. No more secrets. No more hiding.

And then there was the way Jinx started to behave.

She started stealing kisses—just random, impulsive little moments in between tasks, when no one was looking, or when everyone was looking. At first, you'd been self-conscious, stealing glances at Silco's stone-cold face, but then you just... didn't care anymore. Jinx made you forget all the rules, all the expectations. She was reckless, unpredictable, and wild, but now you knew she was doing it for you. She wanted to share this with you in the open, to show the world she wasn't afraid of loving you.

"Hey," Jinx would whisper, nudging you in the hallway, just outside the meeting room. "Come here."

You'd look around, as if still half-expecting someone to stop her, but then she'd pull you in by the waist, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "No more sneaking around," she'd say with a smirk.

And just like that, you couldn't help but give in. A part of you was relieved. Even with Silco's disapproval hanging over you like a cloud, the two of you were stronger together than you'd ever been apart.

There were, of course, moments when you caught yourself second-guessing. Like when Silco's cold gaze would flick over to you and Jinx, the weight of his disappointment thick in the air. His quiet, simmering disapproval was palpable, and he always seemed to find new ways to test your resolve. He didn't say anything, but you could see it in the way he watched you: a father watching his daughter do something he considered a mistake.

It made you uncomfortable at times. You wanted to be loyal to him, but you couldn't deny the way Jinx made you feel, the way her presence was like a wildfire inside you, always making everything feel bigger, more alive.

Jinx, though? She loved it. Every second of it. You'd catch her looking at you with that manic grin, her eyes wide with that unmistakable gleam of mischief, daring you to care about the consequences.

It wasn't until one night, when you and Jinx were sitting on the couch in the common room, both of you sharing the kind of quiet intimacy that had become second nature, that you realized how much had changed. She had her head on your lap, her body warm and relaxed, her usual frantic energy slowed down, even if just for the moment.

"Hey," Jinx said suddenly, her voice softer now, no more of that wild edge. "I think I actually kinda... like this." Her fingers traced the line of your wrist, the gesture almost shy for once. "Being out in the open. Not sneaking around anymore."

You smiled, a warm, soft smile that reached your eyes. "Me too."

Jinx turned her head, peering up at you with those crazy eyes, her lips curling into a playful grin. "You better, or I'm gonna make you pay for keeping me in the dark so long," she teased.

You chuckled, pushing a strand of hair from her face, your thumb grazing the skin of her cheek. "I'll take my chances."

As you both laughed, the tension that had once surrounded your relationship—Silco's disapproval, the crew's judgment, the whispered conversations—began to fade into the background. You were together, finally, without fear or hiding. And maybe that was all that mattered.

Sevika, though, had a way of showing her approval without saying anything out loud. As the days passed, you noticed her watching you both, and whenever she caught you and Jinx sharing one of those stolen, affectionate moments, a small smirk would curl on her lips. She'd give you a nod, as if to say, "I see what you're doing."

And maybe, in her own way, she supported it. She'd never say it outright—Sevika wasn't that kind of person—but the way she lingered in the background, giving you both that quiet permission, meant everything. She was like the cool aunt who wouldn't stop you from doing something stupid but would make sure you knew she was watching.

Even with all of that, even with the storm of Silco's disapproval on the horizon, you found a sense of peace in the madness. You and Jinx weren't perfect, but you didn't need to be. You were finally living, finally letting the world see who you were, who you wanted to be, together.

And for once, nothing else seemed to matter.

—-

The world had always felt chaotic for you, a swirling vortex of contradictions and tension, and Jinx had always been the storm at the center of it. But now, with her by your side, the chaos didn't feel like something to fear. Instead, it became a rhythm you could dance to—a madness you could embrace.

You had learned that love didn't always come neatly packaged or in a way society could accept. Love was messy, complicated, and sometimes, it was all about finding the beauty in the cracks.

The hideout was still alive with the hum of plans being made, whispers of Silco's schemes, and the constant grind of the world around you. But now, there was a peace that had settled in the corners of your life. You and Jinx could be you. Out in the open, free from the need to sneak around, and yet, it wasn't the lack of secrecy that brought you the most relief. It was the sense that, despite the storm, you had something steady to hold onto.

Jinx had never been one for steady, for calm. But in your arms, you were her anchor, the one constant in her whirlwind of emotions and impulsive decisions. She was still wild, still manic, still unpredictable in ways that could send everyone into a tailspin. But now, those moments were just part of who she was, part of the dance you two shared.

And you loved her for it.

As time passed, Silco remained an ever-present figure—silent, watchful, and constantly evaluating. But he never raised his hand to stop you. His disapproval was his own, but he couldn't change what was already written. The crew had long since accepted you and Jinx, even if they never fully understood the depth of your bond. It didn't matter. You and Jinx didn't need validation from anyone but each other.

Sevika, ever the silent observer, had become a quiet ally in this. She'd never spoken in your defense aloud, but you could feel it in the way she looked at you both now, in the way she'd silently nod when she saw you and Jinx sharing a moment of peace in the chaos. She never outright interfered with the two of you, but you knew she saw something in you that was worth supporting. In her own way, she had become your quiet, unwavering ally.

Jinx had started to show a side of herself that no one else had ever seen, not even Silco. When she let her guard down, it was like watching a flower bloom, her trust growing deeper with each passing day. And in return, you gave her everything you had, offering her a piece of the peace she'd always searched for, even if she never admitted it out loud. You two were a perfect mess, wrapped in a chaos no one else could understand, and that was all you needed.

One quiet night, after everything had settled into a comfortable routine, Jinx found you again. It wasn't in the heat of the moment, or during some dramatic outburst—this time, it was simply a shared silence. You sat side by side in the dark, the low hum of the hideout's machinery creating a steady rhythm in the background. Jinx rested her head on your shoulder, her hand finding yours as if she needed to ground herself.

"Do you think," she began, her voice soft, almost tentative for the first time in a while, "we'll always be like this? All messy and crazy?"

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of her wild hair from her face. "I think it's exactly what we're supposed to be. We don't need to change it. We just... keep going."

Jinx was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing absent-minded patterns along your hand. Then, without warning, she tilted her head up to look at you, her eyes sparkling with that same mischievous gleam.

"You're not getting tired of me, are you?"

You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Not a chance."

The storm inside her seemed to quiet, even if just for a moment, and in that moment, everything felt right. You both knew the road ahead would still be full of challenges, of Silco's watchful eye, of the uncertainty of the future. But for now, you had each other. And in this chaotic world, it was enough.

The kiss she pressed to your lips was soft, tender, and full of unspoken promises. You didn't need to say anything more. You had made it this far, together, and that was all that mattered.

As you held her close, you finally allowed yourself to breathe, letting go of the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future. For the first time in a long while, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you had finally found something worth fighting for. Something that wasn't about survival or schemes or the constant grind of the underworld. It was about her. And for Jinx, you would always fight.

And maybe, for once, it was enough to simply be together.

The chaos could wait.

You had each other, and that was the only thing that mattered.