Hoping for a Moment

by LothricLoser

Summary:

Jinx was comfortable being haunted, was fine with living her days in regret, karmic retribution for the pain she caused. At least ghosts could never leave you.

Until they arrive back in her life. And suddenly, Jinx was full of want, of desire, for a boy she once knew, now a man with large, dark hands but those same soft, brown eyes.

She just needed him to want her back. Before he decides she isn't worth the trouble. Before he remembers why he left.

Chapter 1: Chapter One

Jinx had bad luck.

It was a defining characteristic. Misfortune, born and bred. On her good days, she leaned into it. Waved it around, her very own battle standard, a flag of black, spattered in bright paint. Can’t be a fuck up if you do it on purpose, right?

But, on her bad days… Well, they weren’t too different. Just, she didn’t know she was fucking shit up until the final moment, the last drop of water before the dam shatters. 

Over the years though, she’d gotten better at expecting it. Got a bit dulled to even the worst ways she could ruin her life. She had lost nearly everyone she could care about, never really picking up any new ones, so there was no one left for her to take down with her. So, typically, when she was dealing with the windfall of her own shitty luck, she didn’t have anything it could steal from her. She was penniless.

At least, she used to be. 

Nowadays, she found herself in an outright horrible position: hopeful. Stumbled her way into a connection with a young professor who recently established his own program at Zaun University. For whatever reason, he saw enough in her to help get her admitted. And, despite her better judgement, despite the sheer weight of her self doubt, the voices whispering to her that she’d just fuck it all up in the end, don’t waste his or anyone else’s time, she accepted. 

She spent every second until her first day waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the pin of the grenade to slip out, for her to ruin it, blow it all up, just like she tended to do. But, it didn’t happen.

Which just set her more on edge, left her feeling skinless, flayed, a puff of air in her direction would hurt, would harm. She spent all of orientation feeling like this, distracted by the potential of failure. But as the day went on, with no hiccups, no issues, no mistakes on her part, she let herself sink into that dangerous feeling, that hope. 

So when, at the end of the day, that professor reached out to her to stop by his lab, get acquainted with the work he wanted from her, she didn’t have any snark or doubt holding herself back, didn’t think about luck or fortune, or have any flags to wave. Just, for the first time in a long time, let herself be.

It ended up being a bit of a mistake. Not that anything went wrong, more like the opposite. The professor got her started on an equation he was also struggling with, just as an introduction, no need to solve then and there, but it turned into hours of back and forth, desks covered in open books, whiteboards full of ink, math upon math, and some of her doodles in the corners. It helped her think, that’s why she drew them, and the professor didn’t seem to care, too engrossed in the rest of it.

It had been fun, fun enough it caught her off guard. She hadn’t gotten that much enjoyment out of shooting the mathematical and engineering shit since Ek-

Nope. Stop. Don’t go there.

She couldn’t help it, though. Ekko kept sneaking into her mind today. At first, she didn’t really know why. She’d thought about him before, always kept painful memories in a cracked pandora’s box just a reach away. She punished herself with it, jabbing and squeezing, wringing out ache and misery whenever she felt herself slipping into something too comfortable, too close to happy. 

Maybe that was why, she thought at first, why she was thinking about him. Just too close to happy today. But then she started paying attention. Started seeing him in passing figures. Whenever some guy held open a door, helped someone pick up a dropped book or bag, answered a question, raised his hand, it just reminded her too much of him, back when they were younger. Little hero boy, precocious and eager, always ready to help, to save, to be the answer rather than the problem. 

The opposite of her. Always the fucking problem.

The similarities between Ekko and those guys would end there though. End just at the edge of helpful and eager. None of them had that same feel to them, that same bite, that same look in their eyes. 

The look that haunted her. 

She didn’t want to think about him. Even if working through that equation reminded her so much about him, late nights solving homework problems, tinkering on gadgets, just that back and forth. Ekko had always matched her in his own way, always giving as good as he got, always following her lead. 

Until one day, he couldn’t anymore. She pushed too hard, too far, and instead of holding steady, he pulled the rug out from between them, and ran. 

She’d call him a coward, but she would run from herself too. Whatever it took. Slice herself open, slip out from her skin, and just keep running. 

The best she could do was get a degree, apparently. If there was someone who could turn self betterment into self destruction, it was her. She’d find a way. 

In fact, that was what she was dealing with right now. Got distracted working through that equation for so long that she missed the last bus for today. 

Always fucking up in the end.

She knew that, and still, she forgot. Let herself get lost a bit too long. And now, how the fuck was she supposed to get back home? 

Didn’t have the funds for an uber, didn’t have the friends for a ride. She considered walking but it would take a couple of hours through the sprawl of Zaun. She wasn’t worried about the potential ‘dangers’ of a late night stroll, had stashed her bag back in the professor’s office. And, she had grown up on those same streets, hell, had been that ‘danger’ before.

But, it was better not to risk it. And god, she really didn’t want to end her day basically walking a marathon. 

So it was time to rely on ol’ reliable. Find some sucker to spend the night with. She’d done it before, whenever she didn’t want to find a way home.

Whenever you want to pretend you aren’t alone. 

Sure, yeah, whatever. That too, she guessed. But, she never went back to anyone, never double dipped, always found someone new. She never stayed when she was asked.

And barely anyone asks, ‘cause who would?

That wasn’t…That wasn’t the point. Didn’t matter if anyone asked or not, she didn’t want to, okay? It was just a place to sleep. The sex was only a bonus, if it was good enough. And if it wasn’t? Well, that didn’t matter, either. Bad sex ranked very low on her list of shitty experiences. 

So, Mission Find a Sucker was a go, and she started walking around the area, looking for a club or a bar. She strolled around a bit, passing by obvious college spots and shitty sports bars. Look, she could afford to be a little picky. At least to start. Night was still young and all that. 

She found herself walking down a street with not a lot of energy to it, pretty unsuspecting buildings. She was just about to round the corner, heading onto the next street, when a drunk couple stumbled out of a large iron door, creaking and shutting with a heavy thud behind them.

They almost knocked into her, obviously too engrossed in each other to care how drunk and stupid they looked. Heavy petting and googly eyes. Jinx sneered at them as they left, disgusted, watching them lean into each other for balance as they stumbled about.

The stench of alcohol hit her nose and had her flicking her head towards the iron door. It was a flat, ugly red thing, with peeling paint. There was no signage, no lights, no nothing describing whatever this place was. But it had to be at least a bar, that smell of alcohol, intoxicated patrons, and a bouncer standing right by the door.

And, honestly, it intrigued her. The building itself was so unsuspecting, the door so ugly. What kind of club doesn’t advertise itself? Jinx, curious as ever, just had to know.

She walked up to the door, giving the bouncer a cheeky grin and a two finger salute, just going to head on in, but the bouncer held out his arm, blocking her path. 

She clicked her tongue, glaring down at that arm that dared to stop her, then shifting her eyes up towards the bouncer.

“ID.” The bouncer said, gruff.

Jinx crossed her arms, shifting back so she was leaning all on her right leg, away from the bouncer, “Do I look like some kid to you?”

“Just need to confirm, the law and all,” the bouncer mirrored her, crossing his arms over his large chest.

Jinx didn’t cower to threats though, especially the ‘machismo’ kind, “Heh, no good club in Zaun cares about the law.”

“This is a professional establishment, kid .”

Jinx sweeped her arm out towards the street, incredulous, “It’s a concrete block on some shitty, no name street, far away from the heart of the city. Doesn’t sound like a worthwhile establishment to me.” 

The bouncer didn’t rise to her challenge though, just shrugged his shoulders, a smug smile on his face. 

Oh, he knew exactly how to get her, huh? Maybe convinced multiple patrons this way. Schrodinger’s club. Does it exist or not? Is it worth it or not? And fuck, did that intrigue her, enough to suck it up and give up the fight. 

She huffed, pulling out her ID and shoving it into the bouncer’s hands. He scanned it, definitely taking his time just to piss her off more, but then handed it back and waved her through.

She briefly considered burning down the whole building just to show him, just to make him regret letting her in. But all that thinking went away as she walked inside and saw what made the bouncer so smug.

The club was full of glass and colors, speckled light spattering about, flashing, strobing, casting. The music was loud and harsh, thrumming, speeding up the blood in her veins. Sight and sound so viscerally assaulted that she could barely think.

It was perfect. Surprisingly so very Zaun here on the outskirts.

She wished this was the plan from the beginning, a whole night out, dancing, drinking, getting lost in the beat, the bass. She wished she didn’t have a mission to complete, wished it was some other night, different circumstances. She’d have to come back sometime.

She started rounding the club, a lion on the prowl, stalking her next kill, the next thing to whet her appetite. She was being particularly picky for whatever reason. She couldn’t nail down why, just this buzzing gnat zipping around her mind, flittering behind her eyes. Everyone she saw just didn’t have it , none of them the right flavor, the right taste. 

Beggars can’t be choosers. The pickings of who will actually want you are slim. Get over yourself.

Was she not allowed at least some sort of standard? At least for a few minutes, before getting desperate?

You think you’re worth that? Options? Time? All you have is desperation.

…Fine. She’ll fuck the next guy she sees that wants to fuck her, okay? The chances of any of them being halfway decent is a shot in the dark anyways, so she might as well just pull the trigger.

She turned a corner, easing towards the outer row of tables, and that’s where she spotted him. Standing away from the crowd, probably the brooding type. She’s more inclined to that flavor of man tonight, someone not too hyper, or annoying. She’ll have enough energy for the both of them.

And he was fine . Muscular but not crazy big, athletic and shapely, filling out his shirt and his pants, had a nice fucking ass, something she wanted to sink her teeth into. His hands were massive too, wrapped around his drink glass. 

Dark matte skin that looked so soft, stretched over coiled muscles, she wanted to see him flex, wanted to see that skin tighten as he moved. He had sharp cheekbones, she wanted to cut herself on them, bleed all over him, that red rushing down to the thick pout of his lips. She’d bite into them, kiss them, her blood the only thing between them. 

She felt primal just looking him up and down, the thin slip of ankle down by his feet up to the mass of white locs tied up on his head. He was hot, really hot. She congratulated herself, very good choice, Jinx. Very nice. Just needed to walk up and-

Fuck.

She had forgotten the cardinal rule of her life.

She had bad luck. Was the bad luck. Always another shoe to drop, another grenade she forgot she pulled the pin of, waiting to blow everything up. 

She stopped, damn near froze in place, the music couldn’t even move the blood through her veins, it was like it all turned to lead. She had just been circling around, trying to get a full look of him, still a distance away, but even from that far, she’d know Ekko’s eyes anywhere.

Had seen nearly every expression anyone had ever felt before in those eyes. Might as well had had them tattooed on her skin. She spent nightmares playing hide and seek with that gaze, always the one hiding from them. Waking up from those nights would be even worse, sinking into the woken world where she had been hiding for no reason. He was never out there seeking her.

No. He was right here, finishing up a drink in some club, looking hot as hell, with that fucking haunting gaze.

Why would he come looking for you? Look at him. His life has been better without you.

And god, did that piss her off. She wanted to smack that drink out of his hand, tear his shirt to shreds, light his hair on fire. Do something, anything, brass and wild.

Ruin him. Ruin whatever pretty life he had built for himself in that pretty body of his.

It had her approaching him, pulling herself forward, step by step. Anger, jealousy, as coal shovelled into her fire. She knocked into him, spilling his drink.

But, when he looked at her, she forgot about it. Forgot about nearly everything. There wasn’t even a voice in her head egging her on, calling her worthless, pathetic. He was looking at her, for the first time in nearly a decade.

And she didn’t know how she felt about that.

It all rushed back mixed, shaken, stirred. Fuck, she needed a drink. Needed something to dull her; she felt too sharp, too jagged. She was half expecting his eyes to slice open with how they dragged over her, caught on her edges. 

She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to keep going. Wanted him to look away, never look away. Keep his eyes on her, fucking shut them already. 

She really wanted a drink.

Maybe she could play the same role she had been preparing to play, just a girl trying to seduce a guy. And maybe he’d play back, just like he used to all those years ago, just following her lead in whatever game she wanted to play. And this time, she wanted him to play the guy trying to pick up a girl. They could stay in those lanes, passing ships and all that. One night. She just needed a place to stay for one night. Even if it was his. Even if it was him.

So, she tilted her head, leaned in, and said to him, “Buy me a drink.” 

She was kind of surprised by how easily he listened. It tickled her a bit, a grin trying to tug at her lips as she watched him, so obediently, return with a drink. He went back to the spot next to her, a healthy distance between them, and placed down the drink. 

She wasted no time, downing the cocktail, getting it out of the way. There was no reason to prolong this interaction in her eyes. Either he played his part or he didn’t. It didn’t matter what she wanted. 

It matters that he doesn’t want you, though.

She slammed the glass down on the table, trying to knock the thoughts out of her. She felt tense, on the verge of regret, and all she had was one drink. 

And Ekko was doing fuck all. She didn’t turn to him, just flicked her eyes over, trying to read him. God, he was just staring at her, with such an odd expression, she couldn’t read it, couldn’t read him. That was bothering her, digging at her, tearing at her nails. She used to be able to read him so well, so easily. 

“What the fuck’s up with you?” She asked, accused more like. Trying to knock him back into someone recognizable. But he already was, with those eyes that she’d never forget. Maybe it was just her, someone too far gone. Someone who shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t stand near him. Didn’t deserve it. 

And then he spoke, his voice thick, dark, “Jinx.”

What the fuck was she supposed to with that? The first word he says to her in years is her name, and he says it like that? All heavy yet also light, airy, a thousand pounds of feathers suffocating her. 

She turned back to her empty drink, wishing she had another, twisting it into the table, harder, harsher. His voice, her name, repeating in her ears, echoing about, coming back softer and softer each time, until it stopped returning.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to find it, chase it, hear it yet again. But what good would that do her? What good was any of this? It felt like torture, that’s what it was. Torture. Being near him, hearing him, his fucking eyes. 

He fucking just kept looking at her. She hated it. It wriggled under her skin. It was getting to the point that she wanted him to just yell at her, call her horrible things.  

She turned her head away from him, the furthest she could push herself towards leaving, running. It was the lead in her veins keeping her there, she swore. Nothing else, right?

What did she even think was going to happen? What did she even want? 

She wanted him to grab her shoulders, grip tight, and force her to look at him.

“I live nearby,” he said, like some practiced pickup line, like he was reading from the script.

She wasn’t expecting it. She whipped her head back around to him, eyes wide. Her eyes shifted over his face, trying to grasp an edge, anything she could peel back, reveal what he was thinking. For his part, he looked just as surprised, mouth slightly parted, brow pinched. As though he also couldn’t believe what he just said.

She felt laughter start to bubble up in her chest, a lightness lifting her. Couldn’t believe it, just how funny it all was. She shook her head, unable to hold back her soft chuckles. Flicking her eyes just over his shoulder, out towards that door, she thought about it, about what to do next. 

Nothing had blown up yet, and she kind of wanted to see when she was going to fuck it up. When the bad luck would finally kick in. 

So, she leaned it, and said, “Fine. Take me home.”

-

Walking was not exactly what she was expecting. She was kind of hoping to see if he had a nice car to match what life she was building up for him in her head. Something sleek, and fast, and possibly dark green. Something that fit him, or at least, what she remembered of him. 

As kids, they once cobbled together a pair of bikes from bits and bobs they found in the scrap yards. They had nicked some colorful duct tape from a local store and had wrapped their new bikes, decorating them. She had chosen bright neon pink and blue and covered the bike haphazardly, a mess of color. He was more thoughtful with it, spinning layers of dark green and neon, giving a pop of color spiraled around. 

Those bikes didn’t last long, barely surviving the ride back to the Last Drop, crumbling underneath them. They had hit the ground hard, scrapes and bruises, and she had felt like crying. Not much from the pain, but from the loss of their new trinkets, the end of their fun.

But Ekko had been so worried about her, his face so openly worried, eyes wide, that immediately it had made her smile instead. And then laugh. Laughing until they were both laughing.

Indulging in those kinds of memories tended to send her spiraling. Just all that regret, all that loss, what once was, it just loop and swirled around her ‘til she found herself sunken, having to crawl out of whatever hole her mind had dragged her into.

But right now, it didn’t feel that dangerous. Maybe it’s ‘cause he was right here. Hard to feel like you lost something, someone, when they’re next to you. 

Sure, she was missing out on learning whatever car he drove, but maybe this was better. Able to watch how he walked, how he held himself. Able to control the distance between them. Run, if she needed to.

If he needed to.

He didn’t look like he wanted to run. Jinx was still trying to get a good read on him, but, for the most part, he seemed just as interested as she was in seeing where this was going to go. At least, with how he kept glancing at her. 

That was the only shifty thing about him, his eyes flicking over to her every couple of steps. Like he was checking to see if she was still there, real. The rest of him was rather poised, hands in pockets, shoulders back, steady strides. 

She was walking pretty confidently too, lightly kicking out her legs with each step, a bit of a sway back and forth, her braids bouncing left and right, hands clasped loosely behind her back. It felt like a lie though, a front, her soldiers against his. 

Which would fall first? Who would cry surrender? 

But with each block they passed, she found herself getting more and more frustrated. Yeah, nevermind, a car would be better. Would get this over with much faster. 

‘Cause all he did was keep glancing over at her, and she really didn’t know what to say, what to ask. 

Do you have a car? Do you work around here? Do you think about me? How’s your day? How’s your life? How’s it been without me? Are you happy? Are you healthy? Are you regretting this? 

Where have you been? Why aren’t you saying anything? Why, why, why, why, wh-

You know why, jinx .

Fuck, she was spiraling, and his presence wasn’t helping this time. His constant fucking glances. Say something, anything, prick. Even if it’s ‘fuck off’. 

But no, just kept pace, glancing over, with those goddamn eyes. 

She couldn’t take much more of it. Thought about telling him to walk ahead, face forward, don’t turn around. A kind of trust exercise, just believe that she was following. But she was torn between the possibilities; would he follow her command, or would he break it, sparing a look back? She didn’t know which would be worse, which she wanted. She didn’t even know if she would stay and follow him, or take the opportunity to disappear. 

She did know she couldn’t handle this silence anymore.

“Ya live nearby?” She asked, not sparing a look at him, aiming for casual. She hoped her voice sounded way more even than she felt. 

“Uh,” he took a second to respond, as though her words brought him back to the present. As though he realized that they really were just walking in silence, and he should’ve been speaking, “Yeah, it’s not too far from the club. Sorry, should’ve mentioned that before we just started walking, huh?”

Sorry? For that? She thought about the last time she’d seen Ekko, how dangerous he looked, his hands splattered in blood, tight on her wrists. She thought about how she had put him there. 

This Ekko felt fangless in comparison. Sorry? Should he even know the word? Why was it bothering her so much?

You want him to say sorry for something else, but you also know it was all your fault. You’re a walking contradiction, a breathing, living conflict.  

Yeah, felt about right. Felt like she was balancing on the edge of a knife, feet bloody, indecision ready to slice her in two. Just fall over already. Fall.

But no, she walked on top of knives like she was a tightrope walker, a circus performer. Dancing on top, putting on a show. 

She whistled, spinning around mid-step, looking up at all the buildings, “Real swanky neighborhood ya got here.”

She walked backwards, grinning over at him, hoping he’d get the joke. It was technically a joke on him, but still a joke. However, instead of joining in, his brow furrowed. She saw a flicker of tightness in his jaw, a slight shift of his lips, pursing.

There he is. 

He buried it, and here you come to unearth it. 

“It’s fine, I guess,” he shrugged, but that couldn’t nudge off his expression, and for the first time that night, he looked away from her for longer than ten seconds. 

Jinx mulled her jaw, near grinding her teeth, as she spun back around, a lot less pep in her step. She had tried to goad him into something, so she shouldn’t be that surprised that he did react. In fact, this was the most likely reaction beyond just yelling at her. 

So why was she letting herself hope for a smile?

She stomped on, pissed again, at herself, at him, for getting testy with her. She wasn’t really paying attention to anything anymore, whether he had finally glanced at her again or how nice the buildings looked compared to where she lived. She was so distracted by trying to not be distracted that she didn’t notice he stopped, until she heard him call after her.

“Jinx.”

She froze. It sounded different out here, in the open air. In the club she really couldn’t hear him that well, just exactly how his tongue wrapped around her name.

Slowly, she spun around to face him. He was a couple yards back, looking as stricken as she felt. Something spun tighter inside her at the sight of him, affected like that. 

He raised a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing, as though he could rub off the feeling, and said, “This is me.”

He nodded his head over towards an apartment entrance. Her eyes followed the movement then scaled up the building. It was nice, like the rest of them. A newer construction, instead of the cobbled together dilapidated shit she was living in. Could’ve been nicer, really. In her mind, seeing him like he was today, she half expected a piltie style condo, bordered in gold, all shiny and shimmering. But it was significantly more modest than that. Still nice, though.

He had his hand on the door, looking at her like that again. All hesitant, all watching. Waiting. Uncertain. 

She didn’t like that. She wanted to see him affected again.

She strolled up to him, foot placed in front of foot, a slight sway to her. She stopped just before him, closer than they’d been all night, save for the bump into his arm that started this all. She watched his eyes, the black of them swelling with each step she took. All the better to see her with. She knew him, knew how well he could play Big, Bad Wolf .

“Ya gonna invite a girl up, or…” She trailed the word out, not even wanting to give him another possibility, some sort of out. She was back in it, her voice low, raspy, hinting. 

She watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, a hint of tongue peeking out as he quickly licked just the inner jut of his lips. 

Oh, she could have fun with him still. She was swinging all over the place, whatever it was she wanted, at the end she hoped would be fun. 

And, again, he decided to play the part.

His voice, rough, gravel, “You wanna come up?”

-

The second Ekko opened the door to his place, Jinx realized she may have been more bark than bite. She felt small, uneasy, like a tourist, a stranger in a strange land, with customs and language foreign to her. 

You shouldn’t be here.

The place felt so very him . Organized and neat, but not in an empty way. A weathered leather couch, a groomed, shaggy green carpet. That was it, the place was covered in green. Not just green cabinets or curtains, but living plants, lining the window sill, hanging from the ceiling. Not really anything that flowered, nothing that bloomed, only things that grew, that sprouted, that filled the room with brilliant green. 

She never really took him for a gardener, but seeing it now, it slotted in so perfectly. Of course, Ekko would have plants, would fill his place with things that grew. She thought about how patient he was with her when they were kids, when she was upset, trying to force a gadget to work. And him, just gently easing it out of her hands to get her to stop, to take her time and breathe.

She could imagine him taking small trimmers to his plants, cutting off the dead and decaying bits so that they could grow even more brilliant. She wanted him to do that to her. 

And, god, did that thought ache. It simmered inside of her, cooking her from the inside out. 

Would he be up for it? Would he say yes?

Even if he would, you don’t deserve it.

She had been tracing her fingers along the space, from counter, to wall, to couch, to window sill, to potted plants. She was a tactile learner, and she desperately wanted to memorize everything. When she ran out of room, ending with her finger lightly atop the door handle to what she imagined was his bedroom, she finally looked at Ekko.

He was leaning against the front door, arms loosely crossed in front of his chest. He was watching her like she was some foster cat he just brought home, giving her space to explore, looking for any signs that this wasn’t a good fit.

She held eye contact with him, unblinking, as she twisted the door knob. He didn’t move, just stayed that distance away, watching her, letting her. 

She leaned backwards against the door, slipping into the room, keeping her eyes on Ekko for as long as she could, until she fully entered this new space. She drifted her eyes away from him, opening them out towards his bedroom. 

It wasn’t that much different from the rest of his place: a queen sized bed on what looked to be a hand built wooden frame; a painting hung just above the headboard, a cityscape at night, made of dappled paint strokes; a hefty desk, another seemingly hand built piece of furniture. There were some plants about, mainly by the windows, with curtains drawn, but not as many as in his living room. She realized that his place was nice, but rather small compared to what she thought. Enough for one person. Maybe too tight for two, unless they were really close. 

That became all the more real when he followed her into the room, his presence suffocating behind her. In fact, the whole space was suffocating. All the air around her was his air, and she felt like a thief breathing it in, the weight of guilt crushing her. 

But she couldn’t leave; he was blocking the exit, preventing her escape.

So, what was one more crime? What more could she take from him? 

She waved a hand over to the bed, raising an eyebrow, and asked, “Is this the bed?”

He slightly tilted his head at her, a twist of confusion on his face, before it slipped off, a small smile replacing it. He huffed out a laugh of a breath, “Sure looks like it.”

If she was going to survive this, he needed to not smile at her. Honestly, he needed to not do a lot of things, like look at her, like speak. She wished she could command him to stop. She wished she had that right. 

Instead, to shut him up, to stop seeing that dumb, perfect little smile, she laid down on the bed with her back to him.

The sheets smelled laundry fresh, and she nearly giggled ‘cause of it. Of course, he would have clean sheets. He was a proper adult now, with an adult job, an adult apartment in a good neighborhood, and an adult body. She felt so young in comparison, like she was just a couple of steps into maturity, as dumb and stupid about the grown up world like those baby faced freshmen she saw today.

She considered telling him that she was in college now, just completed her first day of orientation. Eager to receive his praise, wow him with the fact that her life was now half on track, balanced on the rails. 

But then came the fear, that he’d laugh at her, shame her, for getting it together so late. If one could even call her current life ‘together’, with her shitty apartment, her no job, and her only prospect being the charity case of some professor. Which she was bound to fuck up sometime soon. 

‘Cause Jinx was bad luck, who somehow coerced her way into the bed of the boy she lost, the boy she nearly took down with her. Now a man, who seemed to have significantly better luck.

A man who was sliding onto the bed across from her. He was curled towards her, but a safe distance between them, a good couple of feet. His hands resting on the bed in front of his chest, not reaching, not pulling away, open palms. With his shining brown eyes, soft and sweet, looking at her, a skittish cat, patiently. Like he could soothe her with just a look. Like he was the sun and she was one of his seedlings, trying to find the light. 

She was sick to her stomach with want, disgusted by her own desire, so terribly cold. How long has it been since she’s truly allowed herself to feel the sun’s rays. She was risking sunburn, risking skin cancer, just staying here, allowing him to look at her. 

But she didn’t want to leave. Had nowhere else to go, nowhere else she wanted to go. 

If only she could get him to stop looking at her.

Her body came up with the dumbest but quickest solve for that problem. It was like her limbs were puppets, and his body held all the strings, tugging her towards him. He didn’t even move, she did all the work.

She dove into him, slipping between his limbs, threading her legs with his. She dug her hands underneath his shirt, climbing up the ridges of his back. She felt him gasp, the sudden shift of his chest. Her fingers must be cold compared to the warmth of him, and he was really warm, like he was sun baked. 

Thoughts were wriggling about her mind, clawing behind her eyes, those same old thoughts that told her she was worthless, undeserving, pathetic.

You really just take and take, dontcha? In what world would he want you back?

But before she could rip herself away, cut those puppet strings, she felt his arms strengthen around her, pulling her deeper into his chest. 

For the first time in a long, long while, she felt her mind empty, like the tv turned off instead of just playing static. She sunk into him, impossibly closer, and breathed. 

The first scent that hit her was liquor, something like rum, and it reminded her that he was still in that shirt, stained by the drink she caused him to spill. She thought about apologizing, thought about laughing, and whatever came out felt halfway choked, halfway chuckled. 

But all he did was wrap even closer, even tighter. 

Underneath that sharp smell of liquor, he smelled like leather and dried fruits, and that heavy odor of peat and cypress licking at the edges of her nose. Underneath it all, that musk that must just be him, his skin, his sweat. She wanted to bottle it all up, take it home with her. 

But tonight, she didn’t have to go anywhere, as long as his arms were around her, she felt wanted, safe.

She felt herself drifting, soothed by the smell of him, the feel of his strong arms around her, the tautness of his skin under her fingers. Soothed enough that despite how she nearly always struggled to fall asleep, her eyelids were heavy, her breathing evening. 

She was right on that edge of consciousness, the abyss of sleep before her, when his voice interrupted her. She felt it more than heard it, a vibration from his chest into her forehead. 

“Jinx?” He asked. 

The way he said her name might be worse than the way he looked at her. Might be more addictive, more ruining. 

So, to stop him, to push them over the edge, tumble into slumber, she gave him a command.

“Sleep.”

Chapter 2: Chapter Two

Jinx only slept for a handful of hours. Just enough to get over the hump of late night into early morning, before the sun even started to peek out, the room bathed in blue moonlight. 

She didn’t leave immediately though, woke up feeling greedy. 

Well, greedy and so very warm. Damn nearly felt like she was inside a furnace with Ekko’s arms around her. Which wasn’t bad or uncomfortable. She tended to run rather cold, not great at self-regulating temperature. And, of course, growing up in The Lanes, where one didn’t really have the extra money to spend on AC, running cold helped a lot during the sweltering summers.

Right now, with late summer turning into autumn, in a fully air conditioned room, she wasn’t ‘sweltering’ exactly, just a bit of sweat beading at the nape of her neck, lining the inner crooks of her knees, her elbows. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. And that annoyed her more than the warmth could’ve.

Nearly everything was a pet peeve to her, coffee that was too bitter, people bumping into her, touching her without knowing her. Certain food textures got her gagging to the point where she didn’t even touch eggs anymore, already knew she wasn’t gonna like ‘em. 

Sweating wasn’t high up on the list, but it was on the list. Something she rarely dealt with ‘cause of how cold she tended to be. Still, it should’ve been an annoyance, but it wasn’t. And Jinx really didn’t want to think of why.

Didn’t want to think about how comfortable she was, despite the small annoyances, the bit of sweat, the heat, the hardness of his arm under her ribs, the puttering of his breath blowing softly across her face. 

Didn’t want to think about how pretty he looked, his face so open while he slept, so light, eyelids only held closed by sleep, nothing heavier than that weighing him down. 

It felt unfair, everything always felt unfair to her. Another pet peeve, another great injustice, just everything that she deserved dragging her down. And here he was, unburdened, sleeping easy. 

Jinx considered shaking Ekko awake, jabbing him between his ribs, disturbing him. She wondered how he’d wake up, if he’d be angry, all sharp and rough like her, jab back, hurt back; or would he be all soft and sweet, as though it was somehow his fault, just in the way of her fist, of her nails.

It prickled in the back of her mind, an experiment to test, results to discover, her hand already curling into a fist, two knuckles jutted out further than the rest, ready to fit between bone. 

Do it, do it. Ruin it. Hurt. Finish this, soon, before. Before it hurts back. Before you do it anyways. 

She was going to, she was. A twitchy thing, all impulse, a live wire, frayed and exposed. All annoyed that she wasn’t annoyed. That he wasn’t either. That it was so easy for him to fall asleep next to her, unafraid. It felt wrong, bitter in her mouth, felt like he should be more affected by this all. 

Was this how he always was, or was it just her? She didn’t think it could be her, not after everything, not with all the distance turned time in between them. 

This was just him, age rounding off his edges, making him this soft, trusting thing. 

It pissed her off, but her fist laid limp between them, unfurling until it wasn’t a weapon anymore.

Jinx felt greedy, so very greedy, and she didn’t want to take anymore. It was just supposed to be one night, a place to sleep, to make up for her mistake. So, she untwined them, careful to slip the threads out, untie the knots, until her limbs were free. She slipped out of the bed, careful not to steal anything more. 

She didn’t leave immediately, hesitated, those urges to destroy, to pillage, shimmering just under her skin. She felt like a coin, a dual-edged knife, just always tittering between bad and horrible decisions.

It’ll all explode, one way or another. As long as it's you.

It was an oddly comforting thought, something that pulled her from the edge, or more like stabilized her on it, gave her sure-footing on the tightrope. 

It’ll all turn to shit one way or another, so might as well do nothing. 

So, she tore her eyes away from a sleeping, peaceful Ekko, and left, touching as little as she could.

-

From that day on, for the next week or so, Jinx made it a point to always leave before the final bus. Didn’t want to risk it, was trying to hold onto ‘hope’ here. Best way to do that was avoid as many mistakes and hiccups as possible.

Even if they led into nice, strong arms-

Nope, not doing this again. She was trying to smash it all down, force it through the grates. But it kept rearing its head.

Pretty, pretty head, with soft brown eyes and-

She flung the marker in her hand across the room, the cap bouncing off as it clattered against the wall. 

“Ah,” her professor had lifted his head up at the noise, now looking at the marker curiously, “I was unaware we were testing aerodynamics today.” 

If she wasn’t indefinitely indebted to him, she’d yell at him. She felt like yelling at anyone, everyone, and he was the closest. But, no. He just had to be the one holding her enrollment in his hands. Honestly, she should get some sort of praise for holding back, considering how annoying the Professor could be.

Or, ‘Viktor’, as he asked to be called. Didn’t much like titles, he had told her. Preferred his work to do all the bragging for him. Jinx respected it to a certain degree, but it couldn’t be her. If she had the credentials he did, she’d go around making everyone call her ‘Doctor’. ‘Doctor Jinx’. Had a nice ring to it. 

But, nope, she was just an undergrad student, chosen to do extra program work after classes, under the ever annoying gaze of Viktor, who found a way to be snarky without leaning into it.

Like, right now. Making fun of her frustration, throwing that damn marker. 

“Why did the marker require flight?” He asked, sounding so genuinely curious, but she knew by now it was just another way to dig at her.

“Deserved it,” she mumbled, grabbing a fresh marker, “Wasn’t working.” 

She bit off the cap of the new marker, trying to keep her focus on the board, the swirl of equations, and not let her mind drift again to soft, soft eyes-

“Hmm,” Viktor’s hum interrupted her train that was already derailing, “Doesn’t seem like a fair response. Do you tend to throw away everything that stops working?”

“If I did,” she jabbed at the board, streaking harshly an array of digits and signs, “I’d have thrown myself away a long time ago.”

Shit, that came out a little more honest than sardonic. Another reason she was getting sick of Viktor. Something about his own self-hatred, how he wielded it, like a kite, lifting him up towards greater heights rather than dragging him down. His self-hatred just made her own slip out. Like camaraderie, just sharing a drink, and asking questions like: How was work? Did you want to kill yourself more or less today? You get the grant proposal in? 

“Do you think that would help?” Is what he asked instead.

The marker froze on the board, the point bleeding ink out as she pressed deeper, harder. 

“Help what?” Jinx barely turned, just a chin slightly towards her shoulder, words drifting back.

“Your life,” she heard Viktor grab his cane and pull himself up, the staggered steps as he approached the board, studying her work, a few feet away but next to her, “I’ve had such thoughts myself. If I could throw all of ‘me’ away, and become someone else, would it really help? Or are my problems so deep rooted, that no change could solve them. I’d simply be haunting another body.” 

He rubbed at his chin, deeply considering the equation in front of him, as though if he could figure it out, he could solve the rest of it, his own life, his own problems. He held out a hand, palm open and up, silently asking for the marker, “What do you think?”

Jinx didn’t want to think about it, didn’t like that she had fallen into this conversation.

You know the answer. Every life, every version, every you, a jinx, through and through.

She ticked her head, trying to stay out of it, stay here instead. A stupid conversation with her stupid professor was better than a spiral.

She handed over the marker, “I think it’s pointless. There’s other shit to worry about.”

Viktor tapped the marker against his chin, eyes gliding across the numerous symbols Jinx had written out, “Maybe it is pointless to think about. At the end of it, all we are is what we are. And whatever mark we’ve made on the world, on the people around us.”

His eyes lit up as he found what he was looking for. He reached out, rubbing away a number, erasing it. With a twirl of his wrist, he wrote a zero. Jinx saw it all fall into place then, why the equation was stumping her, just a misplaced number. She would have thrown another marker if she hadn’t given it to him.

Viktor capped back the marker and placed it in front of the board, “That could be it, though. How the people around us view us. A perspective change. I could be a wholly different person, in the eyes of another. Do you think it’s possible?” 

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, tight and tight, as close as she could get without full on hugging herself, Jinx tutted, a sharp sound from her tongue, “I think we’re not testing metaphysics today.”

He laughed at that, enjoying her joke, no aerodynamics and no metaphysics. It wasn’t supposed to be a joke to enjoy . It was supposed to be making fun of him. Ekko had responded correctly to her, when she joked at his expense, even if she had wanted him to laugh instead. Just, in that moment. In this moment? The laughter made her feel wrong, mean. Both reactions really did, which was exhausting. Like no matter what chemicals she mixed, no matter what reaction came of it, it would always be wrong. She was tired of being conflicted, tired of being a conflict.

“No, of course not. It is something to consider, though. What more could we be, than the infinite perceptions of the people that love us?” 

Jinx didn’t think she was going to respond, didn’t think she knew how to. Didn’t know what would’ve come out of her mouth, if someone didn’t barge into the room, shoving backwards through, carrying a box full of notebooks.

“Hey Vikky, got Jayce’s delivery for ya! Minus his big, fat coc-” 

Such familiar blue eyes met her own.

This was the universe fucking with her. Jinx was fully sure of that. Take a chance and go to college, well, no peace for you, here’s all your ghosts. Here’s your sister, dumb and brash, somehow again, somehow right here, matching eyes with you, jaw slack in disbelief. 

They just stared at each other, sister to sister. Once upon a time, a time far left behind, they’d be able to communicate through just their eyes. But that was when she was Powder, and when Vi was better at being her sister. They both seemed to have forgotten, left versions of themselves behind. Now, just haunting new bodies.  

So, right now, Jinx couldn’t tell what Vi was thinking, all wide-eyed and frozen like that. And she was pretty certain Vi was in the same boat.

“Forgive my friend,” Viktor leaned over, apologizing to Jinx, “She can be rather crass.”

Understatement of the year, and Jinx would’ve said as such if she fully heard him. Everything he said sounded like she was underwater, held down, drowning. 

Until, Vi finally spoke.

“Powder.”

Yeah, nope. Jinx had officially reached the threshold of dealing with shit today. An impromptu therapy session with her professor, and now a surprise visit from her sister? What the fuck was fate smoking?

Her eyes finally broke from Vi’s, flicking over to just beyond her shoulder, towards her escape. Vi could tell though, shifting over just a bit, the barest threat of blocking Jinx’s way out. 

Oh, well fuck her. 

Vi set down the box of books at her feet, not taking her eyes off of Jinx, “Pow, I-what are you doing here?”

Jinx sneered at her, the implied accusation fraying her nerves, “Is it really that surprising?”

“What?” Vi tilted her head far to the side, incredulous, her face borderline cartoonish with how confused she looked. It bothered Jinx, that that was something they both shared, an inability to hold back their more extreme expressions, emotions. “No, I just…wasn’t expecting to see you.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but didn’t know exactly the right words. Like she was approaching a skittish cat, or a loose, stray dog. But Vi was never one for patience, she’d jam her foot in her mouth soon. Probably would have if Viktor didn’t interrupt.

“You know Vi?” He asked Jinx, looking at her the same way he studied the equation, like he could find the mistake she made and erase it, setting her right. Jinx would take it more personally if she hadn’t figured out that he looked at everything like that. It wasn’t pity, just natural curiosity.

Vi, on the other hand, looked at her with pity, with worry, like she could fix Jinx by bashing out all the kinks. 

Jinx hated both of their approaches, their optimism, that she could so easily be fixed. That she was something to fix.

“Barely.” Jinx replied, whipping back around to the board, trying to ignore both of them. If she couldn’t run out of the room, she’d just hide here, in her work. She really wished Viktor had her start on the physical shit instead of all these theories. Really wished she could be welding and lathing and all the fun, loud shit. That’d be a better way to hide.

But, nope, all she had was the squeak of the marker, which didn’t do a great job in covering Vi’s voice.

“She’s my sister, Vik, it’s just…it’s just been a bit.”

“Ah, I see,” Viktor paused, but Jinx didn’t look at him to see what he could be doing, or thinking, “Well, thank you for the books, Vi. They’ll certainly help. But, for now, Jinx and I need to return to our work.” 

It was a dismissal, as roundabout as Viktor tended to make everything, but Jinx understood. Had her pausing, marker dabbing against the board, in disbelief that he was actually having her back here. Wasn’t he friends with Vi?

Vi seemed to understand it as well, if her silence was anything to go by. Jinx considered turning around, just to confirm it, just to see the look of betrayal on Vi’s face. 

Not like you haven’t seen it before.

Jinx gritted her teeth, fingers clenching around the marker, the thought stopping her from turning.

“Shit, really, Viktor?” Vi spat back, annoyed that he was getting in her way. She never really responded well to obstacles, way more adept are charging through walls as they were built. 

Viktor walked over, uneven steps, but the steady clack of his cane along the ground. He stopped in front of the box, bending over to pick up a notebook, slowly flipping through the pages.

He whispered, so quietly that Jinx had to really focus to hear him, his words just for Vi, maybe even for himself, “Sometimes, the remedy for distance is time, patience. Not every problem requires a hammer.”

Vi scoffed, “Are you telling me that? Or should I relay that to Jayce?”

“You can do what you please, Vi. Just not in my lab.”

Oof, he sounded a bit pissed himself now. It had a grin edging on Jinx’s lips; Vi getting put in her place already was rich enough. The fact that it was her skinny twink of a professor doing it? Priceless. 

She still didn’t turn around, despite how strong the urge was. In a way, it would’ve felt like giving Vi a win. She wanted to appear unaffected, carefree about it all. Just writing on the board, way more interesting than even looking at her sister. 

She heard Vi huff and then stomp off, slamming the door behind her. 

Jinx tried not to feel that little twang of pain in her heart at the noise, echoing, so familiar, the sound of slamming doors. 

“If you think she’s a pain in the ass now,” Jinx finally spoke up again, trying to patch up the wound with her typical snark, casting her words towards the board so they’d bounce back to Viktor, “Try growing up with her.”

It was a lie in a way that it wasn’t. Vi had always been difficult, headstrong, running face first into everything, even punches. But when Jinx was younger, when she was Powder, she had near worshipped Vi. Vi was strong, street-smart, taught all of them everything they needed to survive in The Lanes, as though it was second nature to her. As though she was born to bring Zaun to its heel, respect her, follow her. 

A pain in the ass to everyone except her siblings, all the kids that looked up to her. All gone except for her and…

Shit, were Ekko and Vi still friends? Did he tell Vi about her, about that night they spent together? Vi seemed genuinely shocked to see her, so that didn’t seem likely. But, there didn’t seem to be a world Jinx could think of where Ekko and Vi weren’t talking. He had looked up to Vi nearly as much as she did. Wherever Ekko had run off to, Jinx always imagined it’d be towards Vi. Fully out of Zaun. Traitors. 

But no, he was here, and, apparently, Vi was too. At least, comfortable enough to visit Zaun U. Cozy enough to call her professor by a nickname. 

Viktor’s sigh dragged her out of her thoughts, away from the board, watching as he dropped back onto his chair, running his finger along the pages of a notebook. 

He didn’t respond to her words, but he did speak back, “I see you’ve already done it.”

She tilted her head, so much like her sister, just twitchier, a bird of a movement, “Done what?” 

His fingers paused along the page, “Thrown yourself away.”

He looked up from the notebook, matching her gaze, “Haven’t you? Powder?”

Fuck him. Fuck all of this honestly. Jinx didn’t sign up for family therapy. She was just here for her degree. 

She tutted, signalling her distaste for this conversation, for him trying to circle it all back around, and turned back to the board. Just focus on the work. Thankfully, Viktor didn’t push anymore, seemingly lost in his own memories, tracing those notebooks.

-

Jinx ended up staying later than she planned. Partly ‘cause she really did find a groove in the work, losing track of time. But another part, probably the more honest, cowardly part of her, really wanted an excuse. To miss the bus. To have no way home. 

She had been so good, so in-control. Staying away. But today was exhausting. Was that a good enough reason?

Needy, needy Jinx. What makes you think he’ll answer the door? To you? A fluke, a mistake. That’s all you are.

Maybe, maybe so. But, she still missed the last bus anyway. She needed somewhere to go. 

When she walked outside of Techmaturgy Hall though, her punishment was waiting for her. Fate always found a way to slap her down. This time it came in the form of her sister, leaned up against a suspiciously nice car. 

Of course, only Jinx had bad luck, only she had karmic penance to pay. Everyone else seemed to just get a fair playing field. Jinx was still paying for everything she’d ever done, and Vi was driving some nice, shiny car. Sure. Whatever.

Vi saw her before Jinx could decide on running or not. It wasn’t the most mature response, but really, after today? She didn’t owe anyone maturity, already spent it all by not snapping at Viktor, by turning her back on Vi instead of saying more ‘colorful’ things. 

But Vi looked like she could tell what Jinx was thinking, and hurriedly jogged up before she could figure out what path she was gonna take. Still, Jinx spun around, ready to just head back inside and wait out her sister.

“Pow-Jinx.”

Well, she got the name right, which gave Jinx enough pause for Vi to actually reach her, landing a hand on her shoulder.

Jinx whipped around, stepping backwards, eyes sharp, venom in her mouth, “ Don’t. ”

Vi’s face twisted, something painful, hurt, but she raised up her hands in surrender, forcing out a laugh to wipe that expression off her face, “Okay, okay, no hugs then, I guess?”

Jinx shifted, arms crossing, lip tugging up in a sneer. She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, daring Vi to say something stupid again.

Vi shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, “Yeah, should’ve figured.”

She looked down, kicking her foot. It threw Jinx for a loop, just how uncertain Vi seemed. The Vi she knew always at least acted certain, took life by the horns. Even just earlier today, blocking the door, snapping at Viktor. And then, just a few seconds ago, jogging after her, grabbing her shoulder. 

But now? It looked like she didn’t even know what she wanted. 

It had Jinx asking, despite just moments ago wanting to run, wanting to cut this prematurely, “Is that all?”

Vi huffed out a laugh, down towards the ground, before glancing up, barely raising her head to do so, the barest of grins on her face. 

She then raised her head up high, leaning back, chin lifting, grin growing. It was like she couldn’t decide which approach would work, nervous or smug, bare naked or fully masked.

“Nah, I just,” Vi shrugged, “I guess I’m still trying to figure out what to say.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, spitting back, sarcastic, “Well, take as much time as you need.”

She spun on her heels, trudging off to head back inside, fully committing to just find an empty classroom to sleep in. Vi wouldn’t wait out the night, right?

“I’m sorry, okay?” Vi called out after her.

Jinx stopped. Vi had apologized before, but it didn’t go so great that time, didn’t feel real. Couldn’t trust it.

“Oh, well where have I heard that before?” Jinx swung around, lip tugging up, threatening to show her teeth, “Can it, sis. We’ve done this after-school special before, and I don’t really care for reruns.”

“Jinx, come on. Don’t be difficult.”

“Oh, I’m difficult!?” Jinx’s voice was raising, piling on hurt after hurt until it was towering, “Great way to start an apology, Vi! Make it all my fault, just me being ‘difficult’. Go fuck yourself.”

She flipped her off, sticking out her tongue, aggressive, dismissive, sick of this. Vi glowered back at her, and Jinx almost thought she’d yell back, that they might slip backwards years, fight like children, just throwing anything that could hurt. 

But then, Vi just sighed heavily, all the tension leaking out of her body, shaking her head softly until she smiled. 

“God, I’ve missed you.” 

And just like that, the cracks around Jinx’s heart grew, splintered further, threatening for it all to break. Has Vi ever said that? Despite it all, the barbs, the hits, the whole past and blood between them, behind them, and Vi missed her? It had Jinx faltering, mouth hung open, nothing coming out. 

Vi continued, seeing that Jinx wasn’t replying, but wasn’t running away, “Cait has me trying all these therapists, but none of them are sticking, really. It’s caused a couple of fights, but I just hate how…validating they can be, ya know?”

Vi waited, just ‘cause it was normal to leave space after a question, ‘cause Jinx certainly wasn’t ready to respond. But she did know. Her own stints in therapy had her wanting to pull her hair out, rip out her fingernails. They didn’t get it. Not everyone wants to hear, ‘It’ll all be okay’ and ‘You did nothing wrong’. The worst was ‘You’re a victim.’ Who wants to be a fucking victim?

“Sometimes…You need someone to tell you, it’s your fault. You fucked up. You broke it. How the hell are you supposed to fix something if you’re pretending it’s not broken?” Vi took a hand out her pocket, rubbing it across her brow, “I don’t know, maybe Viktor’s right. Maybe some things just need time. I just…I feel like I’ve already wasted so much of it.”

She dragged her hand down her face, skin catching along her fingers, mushing about her face, until she settled with her hand covering her mouth, as though she was trying to hold something back. 

Jinx saw it, though. A slight shine, a glint, at the edges of Vi’s eyes. Tears forming. It hit her, that she hadn’t seen Vi cry since that night, her last night as Powder, when they lost everything. When her mistake took everything. 

And now, here her sister was, about to cry again. And Jinx couldn’t help but think it was her fault. 

It had her responding, despite it all, despite nothing between them really being fixed, despite how angry she still was, and tired, and annoyed, and so fucking angry. 

But she didn’t want to see her sister cry, so she said, “Is my professor gay?”

A joke, just something to prevent those tears from spilling, to ease whatever was building. None of her jokes had been landing the way she had thought though, so she didn’t have high hopes for this one. 

But, through the cracks of Vi’s fingers, she saw a smile, grow and grow until it broke open, and Vi was laughing, big hearty, doubled over laughs. And Jinx felt like she did something right, for the first time in awhile.

“Yeah, yeah, he is,” Vi wiped at her eyes, a mix of tears that could’ve come from crying, could’ve come from laughing, “And he’s going through it. That’s why he’s here, and I’m like a child of divorce having to pass messages between ‘em.” 

“‘Why he’s here?’” Jinx asked, unable to help the grin on her face, learning gossip about her professor.

“Oh yea, he was working with Jayce, his boyfriend, well, ex now, I guess. But, they were working together at Talis Industries, all going well, until they started having,” Vi curled her fingers, making air quotes, “‘philosophical differences.’ So, Viktor fucked off here to build his own research program, and Jayce…Well he’s also going through it.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, a lot more playful than before, “So, classic gay breakup shit?”

“One hundred percent, can’t be something normal like galloping around Ionia or wherever, no, ‘let’s change the face of engineering for the world,’” Vi spread out her arms, really hamming it up, “But this time, do it separately. It’s like they’re writing competitive love letters to each other, it’s disgusting.” 

That actually got a snort out of Jinx. She tried to cover it up, coughing into her hand, but the smug expression on Vi’s face let her know she didn’t get away with it. 

“I think it’s ended up leading to a good thing, though,” Vi’s smile grew soft, proud. 

“Oh, really? I’ll let Viktor know you’re happy for his misery,” Jinx scoffed, no real heat behind it, just trying to ward off that softness on Vi’s face. It itched, along those cracks, slipping between her defenses. 

Vi shrugged, “Sure, go ahead. I think he’ll get it, I mean, he’s the one that must have seen it, your potential. He’s the one giving you that chance that…you really always deserved. It’s a good thing, Jinx.” 

Deserved? Jinx didn’t deserve anything good . Everything good eventually turned to ash in her mouth. Everything good eventually was stripped away, or had enough consciousness to run. Deserved. Her loneliness, her bad luck, the way everything annoyed her, the way nothing ever felt right, not even the good things, the way she couldn’t trust anything to hold up around her. Her surroundings never survived the blasts, the explosions. Deserved. For everything, for being born, she just fit wrong, the air around her shimmered like she wasn’t meant to be here, be anywhere. 

‘It’s a good thing, Jinx.’

Until she found a way to fuck it up. Just a matter of time. Healing? Nah, for Jinx, time was just the length of the fuse, the distance between the spark and the gunpowder. 

She was slipping, sliding around the edges of the spiral, hands raw from trying to grab, find hold, purchase, anywhere she could. Her nails dug into her arms, pain pricking, pricking, something to ground her. It rarely ever did. 

Jinx was underwater again, bubbles as breaths, swallowing salt, the glug of words around her, indiscernible. She could’ve drowned standing on cement, could’ve sunk in deep like quicksand. 

A hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped from it, flinching away as though the hand were molten, a brand to her skin. Heat. She hated the heat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Pow. I’m here, I’m here,” Vi’s voice was steady but soft, like an anchored rope along the side of a cliff, “Come on back.”

Maybe some things you just never forget, they just become instincts. Vi used to be there for all of Powder’s episodes, the small and the large, the firecrackers and the A-bombs. She'd be the one to throw the rope down the well, rappelling, and hoist Powder back up, kicking and screaming. 

The shock that Vi wasn’t grabbing her again, keeping her hands away from Jinx’s skin, had her mind stopping, the ground flattening beneath her. Instinctively, Vi should be doing more than calm words, her old self would grab Jinx’s shoulders and pull her tight into a hug. And maybe that’s why she reached out, but she pulled back just as easily. 

“Sorry, I forgot,” Vi held up her hands, palms open and out, “Don’t worry, no more touching. Promise.”

Promises were an odd thing. Jinx didn’t make them, probably never would. With her track record? They were words dead on arrival. Everyone around her seemed to make them frivolously. 

‘I’ll stay.’ ‘I’m with you.’ ‘Always.’

And then they broke them, over and over. It’s why she was staying away, not just Vi, but…everyone, anyone, no one specific. Leaving before the sun, no matter how comfortable she was, despite the heat, the sweat. She couldn’t afford to build her house of tinder, not again. One hope was more than heavy enough, she couldn’t wish for miracles, couldn’t bet much against herself, her nature. 

But Vi was looking at her so patiently, her eyes soft and blue, her hands disarmed, held back. Trying a different approach, something she had never done before. Just waiting. 

Jinx’s breathing evened without her noticing, until her head was fully above water, floating along. 

“Ya good?” Vi smiled.

Jinx had enough restraint to not fully fall into her sister’s arms. She felt unsteady, taking fresh steps, the first ones in awhile. But she wasn’t fully ready to throw caution to the wind. 

Always a contradiction, careless and wild with everything but her heart. 

Jinx twisted her head away, trying for a sneer, but landing closer to a pout, “Sure, yeah. Whatever”

When no response came though, Jinx shifted her eyes back. And there was Vi, with a wide, smug smile, the cat that got the canary.

“Where ya live? I can drop you off,” Vi leaned back, nodding over to her car, “I think the, uh, last bus left a while ago. Unless you’re staying somewhere around here?” 

Shit, well there goes Jinx’s excuse. Wasn't a good look for herself if she turned down a free ride just to go bother Ekko. 

But she was feeling greedy again. 

“I don’t need charity, Vi. I was…just gonna stay at a friend’s tonight, and they live nearby. No car needed.” 

How much of that answer was a lie?

Jinx thought it might be enough, though, casually crossing her arms, leaning back. Like she had made these plans earlier, and not just moments after Vi had slammed the door and Viktor had accused her of throwing herself away. Just needing a bit of comfort, a pacifier, or even someone who could needle her worse. She was curious to see what kind of Ekko would be there tonight.

The dumb one. If he opens the door to you.

Vi was looking at her curiously, though, as if it was such a stretch to believe Jinx had a friend nearby. 

Or something worse.

“Ekko?” Vi tilted her head, eyes narrowed in an odd fashion, not accusatory or harsh, more puzzled. 

Jinx’s breath caught, along with the tip of her tongue, between her teeth. She felt just like her breath, snared, lassoed. Was this a sister thing? Hitting the bullseye blindfolded? Or did Ekko actually spill? And Vi had been playing dumb this whole time?

Some secret (not-so-secret) part of herself wished he didn’t. She couldn’t really nail down why, she just…wanted to keep it between them. Private. 

Jinx tried to compose herself, but she felt stiff, a collection of wood, held up by strings, “What?”

Two could play dumb, she guessed. 

But Vi didn’t look like she was playing, she looked genuinely like she was searching, as though the target was somewhere in a dark forest and all she could do was randomly throw a dart. She said, “Is it Ekko? Ya know, Little Man?”

“I know who Ekko is, Vi,” Jinx swiped her tongue along the edge of her teeth, before shifting back, lying, “And no, I haven’t…I haven’t seen him in years. The last time we saw each other, didn’t end so great. Which is just, story of my life, I guess.”

Vi huffed out a laugh, short, sharp, camaraderie in that small breath, “Yeah, me too, honestly. Me and him got into a fight recently, and so, it’s been a bit too. But…”

She trailed off, eyeing Jinx up and down, considering, like she was weighing out if Jinx could handle whatever she was going to say next.

“He’d be happy, I bet,” Vi waved a hand, loose, at Jinx, “to see you again. Even if shit ended bad, he’d want to at least see you. Though, fair warning, he’s kinda…weird now?”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, “Weird?”

“I know, pot, kettle, all of us, really. And, don’t get me wrong, good dude, love him to death. Even if we butt heads over shit, I trust him and all, it’s just…You’ll get what I mean when you see him. Or, if you see him. Which you should, honestly. I think it’d be good, for both of you.”

Vi’s eyes blinked wide, hatching an idea. She dug into her jean pocket, pulling out her phone.

“Here, give me your number and I’ll give you mine, and whenever you’re ready to see him, I’ll facilitate. Or, if you need anything from me, or just wanna shoot the shit.”

She held out her phone, a contact page open, like extending out a hand to a stray dog, desperately trying to appear nonchalant, unthreatening. When Jinx didn’t move, she rushed out more words, as many as she could to convince Jinx. 

“Whatever you want, even if it’s just meeting up, grabbing some food, or burying a body. I don’t live nearby, so it won’t be immediate, but I can be here. I’ll make time, I promise.”

There was that word again, promise. Words made to be broken. 

But maybe there was something calming about it, waiting around for someone else to break something. 

So, she took the phone, and put in her number, and her name, before Vi could ruin it by naming her Powder. Even if the soft, winning smile on Vi’s face was already ruining it for her. 

-

They parted ways soon afterwards, and Jinx tried not to feel like she lost. She hated that feeling, really tried to keep the upper hand. But, today just hadn’t gone her way. Viktor got under her skin, had the final say, and her sister had somehow broken through her defenses. 

Now, Jinx had two things to lose.

What was one more?

And she really wanted a win, which, judging by how it went last time around, she figured Ekko might give it to her. He seemed oddly malleable, like a pile of clay she could sculpt. Into a dream. Into a nightmare. She still didn't know which one she wanted from him yet.  

So, she went to go soothe her curiosity, or test her hypothesis or whatever, walking along the sidewalk. Jinx didn’t know exactly his address, but she had a knack for remembering paths, routes and the sort. 

It helped growing up in the sprawl of Zaun, especially in The Lanes, near The Sumps, where not a single road or building was planned. A natural labyrinth of an inner city. You only knew how to get around by the feel of your feet on the concrete, memories of movements.

She might need a pause here or there at certain landmarks, just to get her bearings, but eventually it all came back. That diagonal crack on the third slab of concrete, that broken streetlight, the peeling of posters off that wall. She tracked her way through it all, until she was back outside that building with the red iron door. Just a landmark, a pit stop, until she could remember the right way to go. 

But that smug bouncer grinned, mistaking her presence for patronage, “Back again? Couldn’t hold out long, could ya?”

Jinx rolled her head all the way back, staring up at the few visible stars before lolling it to the side, looking at him through bored eyes, unimpressed. She picked up the corners of her lips, giving a fake smile, “Not here for you.”

She dropped the smile, rolling her eyes and her head back forward. Her hand came up under her chin as she tried to rack her mind for the next step. 

Why couldn’t she remember? It wasn’t like her, she was supposed to have a knack for it. The hand under her chin slid up her face, two fingers rubbing hard, up her cheek, across her temple. 

She had been distracted, by the way Ekko walked, the way he looked at her, each shift of his eyes, how he held himself, how he spoke. The buildings behind him were blurred, bleeding watercolors of memories. Jinx didn’t remember how many blocks they went, where the moon hung in the sky, which turn right or left and what traffic light, what stops signs, street names. But she could recall when he flexed his hands, how few seconds lasted between each glance, the exact timber of his voice. 

She brought her other hand up and collapsed her face into them both, hoping the darkness would swallow her mind, casting Ekko in shadow, so she could really focus on the surroundings.

“You good?” The bouncer asked, a vague hint of concern to his tone.

If one more person prodded at her today, tried to get a read on her, or worse, her feelings , she was genuinely gonna lose it, set spark to ignition. 

“I’m fine,” she gritted her teeth, lowering her hands, “I’m just trying to remember something.”

“Outside a club. Late some random Wednesday. Sure, normal people shit.”

“Look,” she spun towards him, eyes casted down, off to the side, sneer on her lips, as she did something horrible. 

Ask for help.

“Do you remember,” she licked her teeth, ashamed at having to stoop this low, “which direction I left last time?”

The bouncer looked her up and down, before responding, “You a stalker?”

“No.” She said, tension in her jaw, “He’s a friend. I just…forgot how to get to his place.”

“Hey, I ain’t judging,” he held up his hands, shrugging slightly, “Honestly I thought you were staying away ‘cause he was being the creep. So, match made, huh?”

What?

“What?” She said, head tilted in confusion, leaning just a bit more forward, her eagerness starting to show. A creep? Ekko? It was too rich to not sink her teeth into.

The bouncer clocked her hunger immediately, smile smug, eyes knowing, “Dude’s a bit of a regular so, I’ve seen him around a few times. But after that night he took you home, he’s been back like…basically every night until we close. Leaves with no one but himself, looking exhausted and all pouty.”

He crossed his arms, looking down on Jinx with that same smug look, “Figured he was waiting for someone. And since he’d never done all that before, figured it was you.”

Jinx stared at him, not even blinking, face frozen.

When you pour cement down, you need to make sure you’ve smothered to death everything below it. If you don’t, a small weed could snaggle its way through, roots and stems splintering the very ground you’ve built upon. 

So, despite that same splintering rattling at her insides, shattering at her bones, she tried to smother it, saying back, “Yeah, sure, ‘cause you know all your patrons that well.”

He grinned, “Kind of my job. Keeps the riff raff out, if you know who you’re letting in. And, I’m just saying, I’ve seen him leave with a girl, and come back maybe like a week or so later and leave with a different one. Never seen him like this.”

All it takes is one weed, and even the best foundations can crumble. Her eyes snapped to the door. Was Ekko there? Another night waiting?

Was he really waiting for her?

The bouncer followed her eyeline, looking at the door and then back at her.

“Your guy’s not here tonight, though,” he shrugged, “Maybe he finally gave up.”

A one-two punch right to her weakened ribs. ‘Your guy.’ ‘Gave up.’ A slap across her face, spinning her head one way, and then striking back the other. Greed bubbling up through the cracks, a chorus crying mine, mine, mine . Solder filling the gaps, gave up, ran away, left. 

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that?  

Pull on a mask, put on a face, throw something away. 

She crossed her arms, eyes dulling, “Well, oops. Guess I forgot to care.”

She spun on a heel, heading back the way she came. This was ordained, foreshadowed. Ekko had given up before, had run away before. She didn’t…she didn’t blame him. But she didn’t want to be left behind again. Two hopes were more than enough fragile things to hold. 

“Hey!” The bouncer called after her, and, for whatever reason, maybe some inkling of gratitude for his information, she stopped and looked back at him, over her shoulder.

He snapped his finger pointing out down the street, in the opposite direction, “You left in that direction.” 

Jinx’s eyes trailed from his finger, down the street, blinking slowly. 

“He probably just thought, ya know, that he ran outta luck. Missed his chance. Can’t blame him for that.”

And here was this random man, to a club she’d only ever been in once, offering her another piece of hope, like it wasn’t a threat, like it wasn’t a handful of gunpowder slipped into her hands of fire. 

But, she did still need someplace to stay for the night. So she gave him a short, stiff nod, ignored that smugness that returned to his face, and headed off in the way he pointed.

-

The directions all came back to Jinx after that. Once her limbs moved down the street, it’s like she just knew. This left, this right, that crooked street sign, those old fire escapes. Until she found the right building, the right stairs, now standing in front of the right door. 

She hesitated though. Not frozen hesitation, no, as she would pace back and forth, stop in front of the door, raise her fist then drop it. Tapping her foot, dragging her hands down her face, head back towards the stairs then back towards the door. 

It was always back and forth like that for her, her whims a see-saw, her wants pinging then ponging. Desires that spun around her, a spiral staircase, a spiral slide. More often than not, they brought her sliding down. But they spun her all the same. 

Her ankles hung over the edge of the stairs, ready to fall backwards if someone could just give her a push.

Do you think it matters what you want? He won’t answer. He’s probably in there with someone else. Gave up, remember?

Pretty good attempt at a push. But a single thread held her up, spun twine of the words, yours, yours, yours.

She could knock, and if he doesn’t answer, then she’ll fall. 

Jinx stepped towards the door, hard stomps of steps, trying to shock courage into the soles of her feet, as she raised her fist and knocked, quick, fast, rapid succession. A rattling of a knock, like a desert snake shaking its tail, warning, warning, warning.

And then she stopped, letting the sound echo out around her, until it was just her breaths filling the space. She leaned in against the door, trying to hear any sign of life. But, nothing.

Jinx should be used to it by now. Maybe she got too comfortable, one too many things going semi-decent. Eventually, always, she gets struck down, smited.

She stepped away, one, then another, then spun. There was a slide she needed to fall down. 

But, when she reached the first step down, behind her sounded off the clunk of a lock, the turning of a knob, and then the opening of a door. 

And then that voice.

“Jinx?”

It was sleep thick, dragging along the ground until wrapped around her ankles, tugging at her until she turned. 

Ekko stood in the doorway, the door propped up against his shoulder, the palm of his hand frozen by his face, like he had been mid-movement, about to rub out the sleep of his eyes. And there was a lot of sleep. 

‘Exhausted and all pouty,’ the bouncer had said, at least one thing proven correct. His eyes seemed heavy, bags pulling them down, lids threatening to fully close. His lips were slightly pursed. Could that count enough as a pout? He seemed at least more than tired, something confused, something frustrated. 

Jinx had considered, briefly, that she didn’t really know who was going to open the door. Which Ekko she’d get. She still wasn't certain who he was, who he’d become. Where had he made the split, and how clean was it?

Had he thrown parts of himself away? What was left behind? What was new?

He was wearing soft, clean clothes, a pair of dark green sweatpants, a thin, grey t-shirt. Would he have worn the same, years ago, if he had the chance to? The spare space and money for a set of clothes just to sleep in? 

She suddenly felt so much like Viktor, eyes scanning across every bit of Ekko, tracing the edges, seeing if all the panels lined up, if the numbers made sense. Like if she could figure him out, she could figure out everything, solve any problem.

Fix him.

It was a stutter of a thought, just popped in, burst through. In what world did Ekko need fixing by the likes of her? By her, herself, just her? 

But, he looked so tired. And she couldn’t help but feel like it was her fault. She did knock on his door after all. 

“Why are you-” A yawn interrupted his words, stretching out his mouth and squinting his eyes shut. He fully pressed down his palm, finally rubbing at his eye. 

Looking at him, looking like that, moving so young against the sleep, Jinx felt transported back, years upon years, late night playdates that always turned into sleepovers. Her, hyper, her mind always running too fast to fall asleep, yapping away, any little thought that popped into her mind. Little Man rubbing at his eyes, trying to stay awake, trying to keep up, when every bit of him was drooping.

Nostalgia coupled with longing, the worst of bedfellows, drawing her towards him. Whatever reason she had for leaving was forgotten. Whatever reason she had for showing up was also dropped. All she wanted now was to sink into a memory untainted, something just between them. 

She was right in front of him before Ekko peeled back open in his eyes, and when he did, she was close enough to see the black of his eyes grow as he blinked back, eyes snapping a bit wider, shocked at how close she got. 

It was a bit funny, bordering hilarious with how giddy she felt, ready to slip back into her youth. 

“Aw, is Little Man sleepy?” She asked, tone jesting. Could she still call him that? Did she still have that right? Vi had said it earlier and Jinx realized she wanted to say it too. Wanted him to still be Little Man.

She wanted to lean into him. She wanted him to lean in first. 

She rocked back and forth, heel to toe, like a slow swing, trying to convey to him what she wanted. 

But he didn’t seem to find her question funny. Maybe he didn’t like the nickname, or worse, didn’t like her saying it. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of tension to his jaw, “It’s the middle of the night, Jinx.”

She stopped swaying, falling harshly back on her heels, flat on the ground. 

“Oh,” she said, not sure what to do about the whiplash, the shimmering beneath her skin suddenly felt itchy, stinging, “Didn’t notice.” 

She was going to spin away, head down the stairs, run. Rejection whipping at her to go, to leave.

But before instinct could save her, he spoke, voice softer, still deep with sleep, like a weighted blanket holding her down, keeping her from running.

“I just meant…Yeah, of course. I’m really beat.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, and she tried to keep her eyes away from how the muscles of his arms pressed tight into the sleeves. What the hell had he been eating to grow this much? 

She failed, partially, eyes flicking back and forth to that edge where skin met cotton, tip of her tongue caught between her teeth, until he dropped his arm, ruining the show. Jinx scrunched her nose a bit in distaste, ready to glare at him for taking her view away. But he shuffled to the side, propping up the door a bit wider, making space for her to slip through.

His head was hung just a bit, shoulders a bit raised, a bit tense, as he flicked his eyes to her, then from her, then back. Nervous, like a little boy asking out his first crush.

Vi had called him ‘weird now’, and Jinx wondered if this is what she meant. That he seemed to switch between bodies, sometimes young and sweet, then mature and steady, and finally angry and rough. She kind of wanted to bring him back to Viktor, a physical representation that she could point to, spread out her arms and go ‘Ta-da!’ Show him what happens when you don’t throw versions of yourself away, instead holding onto them. You just become a Russian doll, a totem pole. Flipping between faces like through a notepad.  

She wanted to rip the pad out of Ekko’s hands, tear it to shreds, and put together a new face, with all the mismatched bits of paper. 

But, for now, he was being a gentleman, holding open the door, and she didn’t think she could handle another burst of anger, even how slight they were, the smallest twitch of muscle as he set his jaw. Just, not tonight. Maybe another time. Maybe she’d get him to break in another way. 

Jinx slipped through, between him and the door frame, closer to him than she needed to be, near brushing. She kept her eyes on him, watching as his neck twisted, eyes following her as she crossed the threshold. There came a point where she couldn’t hold eye contact anymore without breaking her neck, so she spun around, walking backwards through his space, hands clasped behind her. 

He had a small, little smile on his face watching her, his shoulders loose now, relief spelt out across his face, across his chest. She grinned back at him wide and toothy, proud a bit, like she had passed some sort of test, figured out how to pick some sort of lock. 

He had to turn from her to close and lock the door, and she used that distraction to slip into his room, snoop for a few quick moments before she was back under his watchful gaze. 

His room looked about the same as last time. The only differences being his bed sheets and cover thrown open on one side, wrinkled, evidence that he really had been sleeping. She imagined if she pressed her hand down in that spot, it’d be warm. 

The other difference was a large schematic covering his desk, a blueprint of some sort of manufacturing design. She could figure it out pretty quick, a piece for an assembly machine. Her fingers flexed, hovering over a pen, itching to pick it up and mark some notes. Cross out extra shit, find some way to make it more efficient. 

It was a tight design, she could barely find anything she could make better. It was Ekko’s after all. It didn’t surprise her that he’d make something so clean, always smart enough in his own right, the one person for years that could go toe to toe with her. 

But there was something off about it. Sure, there was a place here and there that she’d change, but that wasn’t the issue. 

It was his work, but it didn’t feel like him. Something his job must’ve needed, something bland and boring, not an original. Not something he’d actually make. 

Ekko was never as ‘explosive’ as her, but he had his own style. Clean and sharp along the edges, but there’d always be edges, something that you’d catch on, that could split skin. Unique, and so very Zaun in that.

This design could fit anywhere, a factory here or in Piltover. It had her pulling her hand back, a sour taste in her mouth, lips puckering. 

A click from behind had her whipping her head around, shocking her out of her thoughts. But it was just Ekko, leaning up against the now closed bedroom door, hands behind his back. His face was unreadable again, which just soured her even further. The schematic was both him and not him. The man against the door was both Ekko and not Ekko. 

She wondered if he thought the same about her, looked at her and butchered off the parts he knew were Jinx, and left the parts that stumped him. How much of her carcass would he recognize? How much would he leave behind for the crows? 

How much did she even recognize?

Viktor’s words echoed in her mind, just ‘haunting another body’. 

“Have you ever thought about it?” She asked.

He tilted his head, brow furrowing, “Thought about what?”

Oh yeah, she forgot he couldn’t read his mind. It just slipped out, like an extension of a thought: ‘what would Ekko think about this?’

“Just,” she continued, her tongue dragging along the words, unsure how much she should say, “the idea that you’ve somehow thrown yourself away?”

Jinx didn’t know why she was asking this. She had been so annoyed today, everyone poking and prodding, and now, she was asking for it. Wanted Ekko to hold the probe, or the scalpel, whatever he needed to complete the autopsy. See what he thought went wrong with her, what solution he had to her ‘problem’. 

But his eyes shifted from hers, glancing to the schematic just behind her, where he had probably seen her hovering over, studying. His eyes sort of glazed over, hardening in an odd, angry way, and she realized she had somehow flipped the page again, given him that old, rough face. 

She didn’t-she hadn’t meant it like that . It wasn’t accusatory. She didn’t think of him that way, like he was wasting himself. 

But…hadn’t she? In a roundabout way? Thought that whatever he was doing for his work, just wasn’t him . And if it wasn’t him, then what was the point? 

She just didn’t mean it like that, was asking for his thoughts on her , not her thoughts on him. 

But his jaw was already tensing, and she didn’t know how to stop it. And he was blocking her escape. The only way to avoid rejection is to run away first, but she was trapped. All she could do was wait for him to strike first.

He didn’t, though. Instead, she watched as he huffed out a breath, harsh and quick, eyes closing as he leaned his head back against the door. When they opened again, they found hers, and whatever ice was in them had melted. 

“You my therapist now?” He said, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

She couldn’t believe it, she somehow found herself actually lucky. Whatever was sour, now sweet, sinking into her gums. 

And he looked like candy, that slight smirk, broad shoulder against the door, chin tilted up giving her quite the view of his neck. Like sculpted sugar, molasses, so sweet.

She grinned back, “I mean, I could be.” She approached him, hips swaying, teeth bared in that grin, like she was a panther, near ready to lick her chops in victory, in anticipation. 

He looked delicious like that, smirk on his lips, moonlight glinting off his eyes, arms thick corded muscle. She hadn’t even talked about his traps yet, thick slopes framing beside his neck. This was another face of his, that she was still trying to name, still trying to catalogue. She knew where she wanted it though. 

She stopped in front of him, speaking low, raspy, “If you think you need some therapy?”

It was a game, and she wanted him to play back. Roll the dice, flip a coin, pull a card. Take a chance. 

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, plainly, matter-of-factly, “I don’t think therapy would do me any good.”

…What?

Jinx’s whole self just stopped, stuttered, like someone had mashed the buttons to her controller and now no inputs were working. 

Was he rejecting her? Didn’t want to play along? He started the game. 

It frustrated her, and she pouted, near stomped a foot. She crossed her arms and leaned away. Not happy the game ended before it started. 

“What, ‘cause ya think you’re Mr. Perfect?” She huffed, “Too good for therapy?”

“No,” he straightened up against the door, hands shifting around his body until he was matching her, arms crossed in front of his chest, “I just don’t think it’d work on me.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, having heard excuses like this before. Hell, she had made them before. It’s not like she didn’t understand it, how frustrating it could be, how often it didn’t solve anything. But, she didn’t like Ekko saying it. Sounded too close like giving up. And she didn’t want to think about him giving up. 

“‘Cause your problems are just that special, huh?” She was trying to goad him into it, get him to fight, put up his fists and fight for it. Hit until the bell rings. 

Instead, he deflated, all the exhaustion seeping back into his body. The bags under his eyes looking deeper, hands and shoulders dropping. 

“Jinx,” he breathed out, “I don’t want to argue about this right now.” 

And he looked like he really didn’t. Looked like he could fall asleep standing. 

Jinx had wanted to fix him, and she still did. But it was starting to creep up on her that she didn’t really know how to. She was stumbling around blind and deaf, poking and prodding to find something, anything, the way others did to her. Maybe he got as annoyed as she did when people did that, just wanting to give and be given space. 

She stepped back from him, ignoring that pull in her heart trying to tug her forwards. He didn’t need that, no. He needed sleep. 

She moved over to the bed, watching him watch her. She hesitated, next to the spot he had been laying. His eyes flicked between her and the bed, as though he could see what was about to happen. 

“Okay,” she whispered out, and then slid into his bed, turning over so her back was to him. 

It was warm, pre-baked by his body. She greedily sunk into it, snuggled just a bit before catching herself. She was supposed to be leading him to sleep, not taking her own pleasure, satisfying her own greed. 

But then she heard a soft chuckle from somewhere behind her, the sound of it skirting around as he walked to the other side of the bed. He pulled up the cover and bed sheet, ruining that side like this one and slid under them. 

They laid across from each other, exactly like last time, only now they were under the covers. Jinx wondered if that meant anything, if he thought it meant anything. If it was a line they shouldn’t have crossed. How was she supposed to go back to sleeping on top of the covers, if beneath was so soft, encompassed in comfort? 

Trouble. She was in trouble. Already thinking about next time. Wasn’t she supposed to be good? Keeping distance. Not returning. 

Jinx was supposed to be holding onto just one hope, but now? She had three. Didn’t know if she was that much of a clown, good enough to juggle it all. 

But he was looking at her so softly. That pretty, pretty head and those soft, soft eyes. Nice strong arms that once were around her. That should be around her again.

She didn’t leap forward immediately. She was trying not to be selfish here, trying to help him sleep. But Ekko’s eyes were still open, still looking at her. Like he couldn’t close them, something preventing him. 

He had fallen asleep last time, deep enough that her early morning escape didn’t jostle him awake. Maybe he needed his arms around her, hers around him. Maybe it wasn’t just selfish of her.

So then, she leaped, pounced, grabbing for him. Greed masquerading as sacrifice, hands seeking skin below his soft, cotton shirt, sliding up the ridges of his back until she got enough hold to pull herself even deeper into him. Forehead to sternum, the beat of his heart thumping up against that thin skin, rolling into her skull, a lull, a lullaby. Her legs slid against his, twining until it would be near impossible to gently separate limb from limb.

He grabbed back, yanking her even deeper, arms wrapping and wrapping. She felt his head bow down, forehead to the crown of her head. 

It was like gears slotting together, the arms of the clock finally able to tick. Second by second, until each second felt longer, felt slower, like starting to fall asleep, and how those breaths would even, lengthen, and relax. 

Jinx was already there, Mr. Sandman and his ticking of time, ready to cover her in sand. She was just waiting for Ekko, wanting to make sure he went under first. 

She thought maybe he already slipped into slumber, until he murmured out her name. Just her name. Not even as a question this time. 

It let her know she needed to give him a shove, needed to bury him herself. 

“Sleep.” 

And they slept.

Notes:

Locked in to finish this by listening to Spiracle by Flower Face on repeat.

Chapter 3: Chapter Three

It became a bit of a bad habit. Like biting nails or picking skin, destructive self soothing. Felt paradoxical, spiraling, like all the late night conversations they started to have. A pendulum swinging between them, where she was all the push and pull, and he either dodged it, side stepping with that glint in his eyes, like he remembered how the game was played. Or he’d take the brunt of it, a force right to his chest, nostrils flaring, hands flexing enough that she could see the shift of the muscles in his forearms.

Jinx was getting a bit obsessed with it if she was being honest. Not just the way his body moved beneath his skin, but how talking to him felt like flipping a coin, a game of chance, wondering what face she’d land on. She liked unpredictability, as long as she was the one holding the dice, the chips, the cards.

So, she became frequently infrequent, interrupting his sleep every so often, without needing to make excuses. Never establishing enough of a pattern so that he could prepare, always trying to catch him off his game, or catch him wearing a different face. 

She was the gamemaster, and he was the chess pieces. 

Until that early morning, slipping out of his apartment before he could wake up, just like she had many nights before. She put her hands in the pockets of her jacket and felt something different than the usual lint. Something tiny and metal, ridged with teeth. 

Her feet stuttered to a stop on the last step of the stairs, nearly tripping. She had to throw out a hand and grip onto the rail to stop herself from falling forward. But the potential of getting a face full of cement wasn’t even her biggest concern. It was the key she was holding in her other hand, brass metal against pale skin, glaring up at her. 

That fucking bastard.

She was supposed to have the scales weighted in her favor, rolling with loaded dice, playing with house money. But no, he had to pull a card from up his sleeve, and fuck it all up.

Jinx considered dropping the key right there. Let him see it on his way out. But, she couldn’t be certain he would. So she thought about stomping her way back upstairs, jamming it into the lock and leaving it there. But then, she wouldn’t see his reaction, see his eyes widen or narrow, his hands clench or flex, the addicting way his skin shifted atop his body when he was just at the edge of an expression, an action. 

She wanted to see him react, wanted to launch the pendulum so violently towards him, that if he didn’t dodge, it would break him. She wanted to head back upstairs, burst into his room, rip open his mouth, and shove the key down his throat. Force him to swallow his little act of defiance. Watch his eyes bug out his head as she holds his jaw shut.

Her hand on the railing acted as a tether, tying her to the threshold of culpability; which crime would she commit, just to teach him a lesson?

It was the imagery running through her head, his possible reactions – face twisting in anger, fear, shame, maybe even grief – that had her mind braking, slamming to a stop.

Why was she even reacting this strongly?

‘Cause he handed you a grenade, knowing you’d pull the pin. 

Jinx couldn’t tell what counted as pin-pulling: dropping the key, leaving it behind, or making him swallow it.

Or, possibly, using it how it was designed to be used, unlocking a door. 

She pocketed it, ripping her hand off the railing, cutting the tether, and decided she wasn’t going to do anything. No pin-pulling for her. She was trying to juggle hope here, not grenades.

So, she left, resigning to herself that she was just going to ignore the key.

-

That turned out to be fucking impossible. Jinx had entered the ring with her opponent across, leaning cocky against the ropes, just a stupid, goddamn key. 

She’d take it out constantly, just to stare at it, glare at it, imagine using it, imagine tossing it away. When she wasn’t looking at it, she’d keep it in her pocket, would run her thumb along its teeth, over and over. She’d done it so often she was certain that even if she did throw it away, she could remake a new one by touch alone.

Each day that passed, each run across the ridges, she’d think about him. Was he waiting? What did he look like when he was waiting? How many faces did he flip through, expecting her to turn the lock open?

And eventually, doubt would creep in, always dragging down the end of her thoughts. 

He probably gave up, just like before. 

Or, worse.

He probably didn’t even mean to slip you the key. Or regrets it. A fluke, an accident, a mistake. Just like you.

So, touching the key became a conditioning tactic. Whenever she was feeling somewhat good or steady, she’d reach into her pocket, like pricking her finger on the tip of a knife. Drawing just a bit of blood to ground her, bring her back down to reality. 

Just a mistake.

It became mindless, instinctual. A smile edging on her lips, and a hand reaching for her pocket. Balancing it out.

And then, Viktor had to catch on, ‘cause of course he fucking did.

He had been talking about how next week he was getting her certified to work in the metalworking lab, so she didn’t have to keep sneaking in as a ‘liability’. He was going over the logistics and the paperwork and ‘most importantly’ the ‘safety measures’, but she could barely keep still, vibrating with excitement.

Every time her lips twitched up, she dug her fingers into the teeth of the key, over and over, until she was grinning madly and the pain was staying, deep indents into the curve of her thumb. Viktor had already seen, whenever he looked up from the paperwork, his eyes glancing to her hidden hand, and whatever weird smile was flicking across her face.

He paused, casting her a cautious but odd look, brow lowered. 

“Are you…okay?” He said, slowly, unsure, as though he might be crossing a line. It was ridiculous, honestly, in Jinx’s mind. Viktor would constantly toss up such philosophical questions that had her mind running through every bit of self-hatred and doubt and exasperation, but a pointed question about how she was doing? That was the line? 

And she, for sure, wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

“Yep!” She yanked her hand out of her pocket and clasped both behind her back, rocking on her feet to put the energy somewhere, “Doing dandy.”

Okay, possibly not the most convincing. She was trying, but it was all a swirl of excitement and anxiety. Time was also ticking too, the last bus set to leave a bit too soon from now. And, she was doing such a good job at not ending up at that locked door. 

All those nerves must have been tinting her words, with the way Viktor raised one, unimpressed, eyebrow up at her. 

He sighed and collected the papers all together, tapping them straight on his desk before delicately laying them down to the side. Jinx could tell by his posture, by how he adjusted his seat in his chair, by the way he brought his hands together, that she was in for some sort of lecture, or another roundabout therapy session.

She tried to not roll her eyes. Keyword: tried.

He cleared his throat, and then said, “Jinx, I know we have an academic relation. But, that does not mean you can’t come to me if you need anything.”

Jinx wished she didn’t take her hand out of her pocket. She needed the pressure of that key to keep her from saying something rude to the man in charge of her education.

She scoffed, shifting her weight until she was leaning away, chin a bit raised as she looked down at him. 

“Just ‘cause you know Vi, doesn’t make you, like, my surrogate brother or some shit.”

It came out snappy, a sharp jab, exactly how she liked to shut down conversations, get her hits in quick before they hit back. But Viktor didn’t hit back, never needed to. Just matched her glare with a gaze that looked too much like commiseration. Like somehow between all his knowledge of physics and engineering, he knew every way someone could hide pain. 

Jinx was a bit jealous of that skill. She’d never lose another fight if she could hit the bullseye every time. 

And, she’d be able to figure out exactly what Ekko’s problem was.

You’re his fucking problem.

She twitched against the thought, the barest flick of her head, as though trying to jitter it out. Which didn’t help trying to appear steady and ‘in control’ in front of Viktor. 

His eyes narrowed, just slightly, but he didn’t push it. He sighed, tapping his pen into use, before signing his name on the papers, his signature nearly illegible, swirling scribbles. 

“If that’s how it will be, Jinx, then let’s say I’m only bringing this up because of your recent…distracted behavior.” 

“Me? Distracted?” She pointed to herself, two fingers tapping on her chest before flicking them, lazy yet accusatory, Viktor’s way, “Rich coming from you. We’re working on a new theory for gravity and you’re sneaking looks at your ex’s electrical engineering notebooks. I know for certain that shit ain’t related, so let me go find ya a mirror and show you ‘distracted’.”

She gave him a smug, sarcastic smile, tilting her head deep to the side for effect, mocking. But, Viktor surprised her, flaring his nostrils, lip tugging up in displeasure. 

He set his face again, his own kind of superiority, like his studies had made him above all this ‘humanity’, but there was a weight to it, a gravity dragging bits of expression back down. Like, he couldn’t believe it himself that he was engaging in this, stooping to her level.

“It must be hard for you to imagine, but, for most of us, when we leave people behind, it’s difficult letting go.” He clicked his pen off and then laid it on his desk, watching it as he lightly tapped it back and forth, “I thought, perhaps, that you might have been struggling with your sister’s insistence on re-entering your life. That it might be worrying at you, the idea of letting someone back in.”

The pen rolled to a stop, and he didn’t mess with it further, his eyes flicking up to Jinx, pointed, “But you don’t care about that, do you? The way you waltz through people’s lives, spinning away without looking back.” 

Her? The one that leaves? That doesn’t care? He was wrong, he was wrong, he was wrong. She did care, she just…She did fucking care. The problem was everyone else, they didn’t care, not really, not like she did. They just wanted to hold onto something long gone, better memories, a better ‘her’, a person that never existed, just whatever they thought she was. Never her, never really her. 

Never you.

“I do care.” She spat back at him, hands clenched by her sides, the force vibrating through her forearms and up to her shoulders, “I do care.”

He collected up the papers, packing them away into his desk, not looking at her, “I’m certain you believe you do.”

“I don’t believe in fucking shit. I know . They’re the ones who don’t care.”

“Who’s making the effort here, Jinx?”

…Fuck this. She had proof that she cared. A trump card to win the fight, prove herself right.

She whipped out the key, slamming it down on his desk, the slap of her hand and the faint ring of metal filling the room for one burst of a second. Viktor jumped, just slightly, his eyes widening down at her hand, then looking up at her. Jinx pulled away her hand, revealing the small brass key. 

“See?” She waved towards the key, as though it somehow said everything. 

Viktor looked stumped, for the first time Jinx had ever seen. His eyes just glancing from her, to the key, and then back. Finally, he picked it up, studied it, as though she somehow carved the answer into its body and he could read it. 

“…Frankly, I don’t see how this proves your argument.” He said, giving the key one final twist before lightly setting it down.

Jinx huffed, nearly stomping her foot in frustration, and then waved out her arms, “If I didn’t care, I’d have thrown this away by now! Or used it, or melted it down, or something. I don’t know, but I know I care enough to not do anything with it.”

Okay, it sounded a lot less convincing when she said it outloud. But it was true. She cared enough to not pull the pin. To not blow it all up. She just didn’t know how to translate that.

“A key is meant to be used,” he responded.

She crossed her arms over her chest, mumbling back, “You don’t know that. It could be a key to a gun safe, or something. Like, something that’s supposed to remain shut.”

Unless you needed to pull the trigger.

Viktor breathed out a laugh, “Quite the rebuttal. But this looks like a door key.”

“You’re assuming,” she grumbled back, “Making an ass of you.”

“I believe the phrase continues somewhat.”

“Nope, it ends there.”

He smiled, shaking his head, and then sliding the key back her way. Jinx didn’t pick it up though. The bane of her existence, that small brass key, shining up at her.

“Is it Vi’s?”

That stammered Jinx out of her staring contest with an inanimate object. She sneered, “What? No.”

She hadn’t talked to Vi since that night, weeks ago now. Not for Vi’s lack of trying, always sending texts everyday. Which ranged from ‘hey’ to photos of dogs she saw and then to whatever self-deprecating thoughts she was having. Jinx had yet to reply to a single one, but Vi kept it up, even if it was mostly just photos of dogs now. 

It had been Jinx’s number one annoyance, until Ekko gave her that key. 

“It’s just…it’s someone’s.” She rushed out.

“You didn’t steal it, did you?”

She rolled her eyes, “If I stole it, I’d do whatever I needed to do and then toss it. That’s not the problem.”

Viktor leaned back in his chair, open eyes as he clasped his hands loosely in his lap. He asked, “And what is the problem?”

Jinx realized at that moment that she lost the fight somewhere along the way. Somehow, yet again, Viktor had tricked her into a therapy session. 

She could just go. Spin on her heels and leave it all behind, the key, her education. She could just give up on everything. Block Vi on her phone, drink herself into someone else’s bed to forget Ekko’s, return to The Lanes and never leave again. Or, she could run away. Pick a direction and go. 

No one would even miss you. Remember how much better everyone’s life has gotten without you? Maybe Viktor will reunite with his ex, Vi will finally fix her guilt, and Ekko will win the lottery and buy a bigger place. Somewhere with a new lock, that you could never open.

She considered it. Considered giving in. But, she had made a promise to someone to see at least her education through. And she didn’t want to give Viktor the satisfaction of being right. She didn’t ‘waltz through people’s lives’. She lined her path with dynamite and clicked her heels to ignite. Whoever got caught up in it was their own fault. 

“The problem,” she swallowed down the bitter taste, trying to convince herself that this was still fighting, not giving up, “Is that I don’t know what to do with it, in a way that doesn’t fuck everything up.”

“Hmmm,” Viktor hummed, tapping his fingers atop his knuckles, “I don’t believe I can help you without more context. Did someone give it to you?”

“Yes.”

“And this someone…is important?”

“I-What?” She stammered, “That has nothing to do with this.”

Viktor didn’t care about her answer, already connecting the dots himself, “Important enough to not risk the wrong action.”

Jinx clenched her jaw, the whole of her high tension, every muscle, every tendon. She flicked her hand out and then slammed it down, right on top of the key. The metal scraped against the desk as she dramatically dragged it off, glaring at Viktor the whole time. 

Once off the desk, she gripped it tight in her hand, spinning on her heels and stomping her way out the room. Before she could cross the threshold though, Viktor called out to her.

“Jinx. Use the key.”

She stopped, casting an evil look over her shoulder at him. Any remnant of his smile was gone, just a calm, compassionate, and possibly sad look on his face.

“Life is always better lived. Would we, if we could, prove every theory correct by living it.”

Jinx thought, not for the first time, that Viktor had too good of a read on her for someone she hadn’t known long. That he could tell how eager she was to abandon all the numbers and equations on the board, and start testing shit out for real. And now, he was using that against her.

She slammed the door behind her as she left.

-

Unfortunately, Viktor had successfully wasted enough of her time that she missed the last bus. The key was back in her pocket, digging into her thumb, as she glared out at night streets. There were some other lingering college students and faculty, but very few of them, all finding their own ways home. Hopping into cars or calling for rides. 

Jinx felt stuck in comparison, as though she had sunk into the sidewalk, cement around her ankles. That key deep in her thumb. Viktor’s words ringing in her ears.

‘Use the key.’

She scoffed, leaning her head back far, stretching her neck, and looking up at the night sky. There weren’t a lot of stars that could be seen here, but at least the few there were could shimmer bright. Back home, the constant smog that smothered made it near impossible to see a single one, a single light. 

Looking at those slight shines glinting about in the sky, Jinx couldn’t help but not want to go home. At least, not right now. But her pocket felt like it weighed a ton, stacked full of brass. Viktor’s words didn’t make her quandary any less complicated. It just added fuel to a fire named spite. 

So, no bus. No unlocking doors. Where’d that leave her? Still no spare funds to order a ride. She could try and find another place to sleep, another bar with another sucker.

She thought about it, imagined it, someone holding her, pressing her down into a bed, lips on her jaw, teeth on her neck. It had been a bit, and she had an itch that someone needed to scratch. But as her imagination ran, that someone started to get too specific. With large, dark hands; a wide, muscular chest; and plump, way too fucking kissable lips. 

Her jaw clenched, catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth painfully. She’d bite it off though if it meant stopping these thoughts. Her base desire aside, they weren’t even really friends. Just…something she couldn’t really name. Didn’t feel like she had the right to. And with the key burning a brand in her pocket, in her hand, she knew she was scared too. Of naming it. Of claiming something she didn’t deserve to have. 

But finding someone else, even for one night? It all tasted bitter on her tongue, pooling right along the tip caught between her teeth. And all her desire just bled out of her.

Now, she was a ball of pent up energy, a twisting, tightening coil, feeling undeserving, guilty, a right up bother. There was something she could do to fix this. Someone she could turn it all over on, make them the guilty one. 

And, that someone had said she’d be there, make time.

Jinx let go of the key, slipping her hand into her pants pocket, and fished out her phone. She opened up her contacts, and called her sister.

-

Despite it being late, Vi showed up with the energy of some mommy-blogging, morning jogger. And when Jinx had told her that, Vi just laughed.

“I’m more known for my sprints, actually.” She responded, smiling.

Jinx rescinded that she needed to be harsher with her insults if she was going to break down her sister.

Vi looked like she just got out of a track meet, wearing sweatpants and an athletic t-shirt, sweat stains deep around the collar and down her back. Jinx had considered getting Vi to drive her someplace, but now, realizing she probably reeked, she didn’t want to even share the same air as her, let alone a car ride.

“You look awful.” Jinx sneered, “Didn’t even think to shower?”

But Vi’s smile didn’t drop, she just looked down at herself, arms a bit outstretched, and then looked back up, still shining, “Ah yea, I guess. Sorry, didn’t wanna keep my baby sis waiting.”

Vi didn’t even let her respond, bowling through, preventing any barbs Jinx could throw back, “So, whatcha need? Finally snap on Vik and need to cover your tracks? He should fit in the trunk, right?”

Vi rounded the car as she spoke, slapping the trunk of her car as she did so, ending up leaning back against the passenger door. 

She looked relaxed, easy-going, when all Jinx felt was strained, agitated, stretched to the point of snapping. Nothing was going her way today. Not a single thing. 

What did you expect? As long as the equation begins with you.

Jinx crossed her arms, rigid compared to Vi, who had them loose across her chest. Just that comparison had her feet moving, first a shuffle, then a slide, and then fully picking up, turning and walking off. She’d sleep in a cardboard box before this.

“Wait, waitwaitwait,” Vi jogged up and slid in front of her, hands outwards to Jinx’s shoulders, but not touching, “Okay, I get it. No more jokes, I swear.”

“Then you should get out of my face, so I don’t have to look at one.” Jinx deadpanned.

But, it didn’t work. Vi just slapped a hand over her heart, a shit-eating grin as she couldn’t help herself, “You wound me, Pow.”

For hours now, there was an irritating buzzing in Jinx’s ears that had been slipping around, up to her temples and then behind her eyes. Now, that buzzing was crackling, fire burning that she could swear smoke was pouring out her pupils as she glared at Vi, a twitch to her eyelids, a tug at her lips, revealing snarling teeth.

The smile finally dropped from Vi’s face, as she had the common sense to realize her mistake. She stepped back, hands dropping, looking apologetic.

“Okay, I’ll stop. For real this time,” she rubbed a hand along the bottom of her throat, as though trying to massage her words out, “Sorry, I just…I was really happy you called. And, I guess, I didn’t think about what I was saying.”

Jinx kept glaring at her, but this was more aligned with how she wanted it all to go. Someone else apologetic and ashamed.

Jinx rolled her eyes, “Do you ever?”

“Nope, still don’t.” A glint was reappearing in Vi’s eyes, but she suppressed a smile, “Not known for it.”

“Like jogging.” Jinx said, a lazy jab.

Vi’s hand moved up to her face, rubbing across her mouth, trying to hide the smile she now couldn’t hold back, “Yeah, like jogging.”

She bounced back faster than Jinx expected. Made Jinx feel like the only way she could hurt Vi was walking away. No words would actually pierce through anymore. 

But Vi was quick to block, and it's not like Jinx even had a path right now. Unless she was willing to face that locked door.

Maybe she could hurt Vi’s wallet, at least.

“Food.” She said, nearly spitting it out, but not with enough venom, “I’m hungry, so…You can buy me food.”

Jinx didn’t look at Vi while she spoke, eyes cast off to the side as her body tried to twist, to crowd into herself, like she was admitting shame instead of trying to take hold of the reins.

“Hell yea,” Vi responded, grin obvious in her tone, and Jinx’s eyes shifted back over to confirm that as fact, “There’s a diner nearby. Ya up for burgers?”

She pointed over her shoulder, thumb jutting out in what Jinx imagined was the location of the diner. Jinx looked over in that vague direction, but it was just empty sidewalks and streets, illuminated by a row of streetlights.

“Fine,” Jinx acquiesced, but not without a sharpness to her voice, “Sure.”

She walked forward, basically slamming into Vi’s shoulder as she brushed by, headed off in the direction where Vi was pointing. From behind, she heard Vi chuckle and then jog to catch up, leading the way.

-

The diner wasn’t too far away, thankfully. A classic burger joint on the bottom floor of what looked like a housing building. It had a yellow neon ‘Open’ sign, buzzing bright, ushering people in, but inside was rather empty of patrons. Just a pair or two littered about, and only one table in the far corner full of a group of college kids, pouring over large textbooks with multiple mugs of coffee around them. 

It wasn’t too bad, even if the lights were too much, too fluorescent for Jinx’s taste. Even if the trimmings and the decor were too tacky, all linoleum green and fake plated gold, scratched up and dull. 

But the smell made up for all of it. Greasy, fatty, meaty. Heavy and mouth-watering. It filled the room, wafted from plates and poured out from the kitchen. Jinx preferred it like that, when restaurants weren’t ashamed of serving food. Food that was meant to be enjoyed and indulged, not posed for photos and trimmed for aesthetics. The aroma in the air could be enough to make anyone’s stomach growl, and Jinx was eager to eat.

It was only after Vi and Jinx had ordered, when their plates arrived, stacked full of fries and a tall cheeseburger, and they dug in, that Jinx realized they hadn’t eaten together in years. Long, long years. 

Both of them ate without manners, grease dripping down their chins and their fingers, loudly sipping at their drinks, not fully closing their mouths when they ate. At the end of the day, two kid sisters that grew up with too much food insecurity, to not hold back when they dug in with unabashed hunger, throwing all etiquette out the window.

It felt too familiar, too ‘sisterly’ of them, and if the burger wasn’t that fucking good, Jinx imagined the thought might’ve soured her taste.

“Your pitlie girlfriend lets you eat like this?” Jinx snarked, but her tone was muffled around the food in her mouth.

Vi’s mouthful was too big to talk around, so she swallowed and rushed it down with some coke before responding, “God no. Not like she doesn’t mind a good meal or shit. But this fucking greasy? Step too far.”

Jinx hadn’t meant the food itself, more the disgusting way they both were eating. Was needling at how Vi should be different here too, her time and ties in Piltover should’ve stripped her of this. But no. It hadn’t. And Jinx didn’t know what to do with that. 

“I know you two got off on the wrong foot,” Vi put her elbows up on the table and rested her chin on folded hands, looking a bit sheepish, “But she’s really…she’s good for me, Jinx.”

‘Got off on the wrong foot’ was the understatement of the fucking century. The only way to make it true would be if the foot was stepping right in front of a goddamn claymore. It was a debacle, a violently explosive meeting that resulted in a bloody stump of a relationship. The first time Vi had left her, Jinx understood, even if it hurt the worst. Blamed herself for it. The second time, though? She definitely blamed Caitlyn, and, by extension, Vi, for choosing Caitlyn’s side.

“Does she know? That you’re here?” Jinx asked, swirling her fry through ketchup, not looking at Vi.

Vi sighed, deep and long, as though trying to give her time to think about lying or not.

“Kind of?” Vi leaned back into her seat, “Like, I told her I was coming out this way. And, she does know you’re Viktor’s student. So…Fuck. She probably already figured it out.”

Vi ran a hand through her hair, like she just realized she was going to be in trouble when she got home, shoulders deflating from the knowledge.

“Aw, ya gonna be in the doghouse?” Jinx smirked at her, her spirits lifted by Vi’s potential punishment.

“Don’t find so much joy in my misery now.” Vi smiled back at her, tossing the balled up paper from her straw at Jinx, but it fell short.

“Hey, not my fault you decided to date such a dictator.” Jinx smugly picked it back up and flicked it back, bouncing off Vi’s nose. 

Vi’s smile faltered just a bit, but not completely, “She’s really not that bad.”

“She doesn’t even let you eat greasy diner food,” Jinx hit back.

“I probably shouldn’t eat it anyways,” Vi stretched back, rubbing a hand over her gut, “My body can’t really digest this shit anymore.”

“Ew,” Jinx stuck out her tongue, “Don’t need to hear about your ‘shitting problems’.”

Vi huffed out a laugh, but it didn’t fully lift back up her smile. She looked out the window, her hand on the table tapping.

“I’m really happy right now, Jinx.” She turned back to Jinx, eyes sincere but bittersweet.

There’s always a but to that. No one is ever just ‘happy’ around her. There’s always years weighed down with pain, and distance measured out in agony. And, even if it was someone she had no past with, eventually they just got tired or agitated being around her. It was never happiness, unless it came with conditions. Could never just let it be. 

Like slipping a key. 

Jinx didn’t say it for Vi, didn’t lead in with the ‘but’. She just loaded her pistol, stuffed down gunpowder and pellets, and kept her finger on the trigger. Ready to shoot back if needed.

“But,” Vi continued, as expected, “Caitlyn is important to me. She’s not going anywhere. And, I don’t want you to go anywhere either.”

Rich. As if the last two times it was Jinx going away, instead of Vi.

“I really want you more in my life, not just me in yours. And I get that I probably don’t deserve that, and that you probably don’t want to…deal with this shit. And I’m not saying let’s rush into all this now, like have you and Cait meet again. But…Could the door, ya know, be open to that? One day?”

Jinx wasn’t used to a nervous Vi. Hadn’t seen it often, ‘cause Vi rarely let herself be nervous. Like how she didn’t like punching off a back-pedalling foot, not enough power to drive through. Being nervous didn’t give her enough control of the fight. Jinx would commiserate, but all her most successful attacks came from either a sucker punch or being backed into a corner.

“How ‘bout we focus on one thing at a fucking time, Vi.” She snarled, jabbing her straw down into her soda, “You’ve gotten one meal outta me, not really ready to give a maid of honor speech here.”

There was silence from across the table, the only sounds being the slosh of the ice as Jinx stabbed through her drink.

She looked up at her sister, her head tilted down so the look was a bit menacing, baiting. Would Vi reset her feet, drive through her hips, give a proper punch back?

Vi seemed to be considering it, jaw set, her chin tilted up. Jinx tried to hold back a grin, an eagerness to fight, to win. Victory could only come when two people entered the ring.

And then, Vi breathed out all her growing tension, hands slipping from the ropes and stepping back from the ring. ‘Cause of fucking course.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” she ran her knuckles of one hand across the palm of the other, once, then twice, then folded her arms down on the table, “I’m being a bit selfish here.”

Jinx huffed, leaning back in her chair, sarcastic as she echoed, “‘A bit’.”

“How ‘bout we talk about you?” Vi leaned forward, “How’d your day go?”

Jinx felt like shrivelling up beneath Vi’s attention. She muttered back, “Fine.”

“Just fine? No big breakthroughs or anything?”

More like breakdowns, eh?

Jinx didn’t respond, just starting tearing little bits off her napkin, rubbing them into small balls and flicking them away.

But Vi kept pushing, “What’s Viktor got ya working on anyways?”

‘The last bits of my fucking sanity.’ Jinx thought to herself, snarling as she remembered the conversation earlier, how she lost that one.

She sighed, still tearing off bits of napkin, “We’re trying to define a quantum theory for gravity. It could be used to explain the beginning of the universe, but we need it so we can figure out nuclear fusion in stars. Once we figure that out, there’s no telling the nuclear potential we could unlock.”

She ran out of the napkin halfway through, but she found herself not minding the loss. Her hands still fluttered about, growing in excitement. Despite how annoying Viktor could be, she really did love studying under him, loved what they were working on. Something so explosive, it could change the face of the world. Make energy costs a distant memory. 

Vi tilted her head, trying to keep up but obvious confusion on her face, “You’re doing nukes?”

Jinx needed something to rip apart again, jaw clenching, nose scrunching. Heard that question too fucking often. Too many people just think nukes when they hear nuclear.

She tutted, “No. Nuclear energy.”

“Oh, shit.” Vi leaned back, rubbing a palm into the side of her jaw, “That shit makes me nervous.”

Jinx could’ve knocked everything off their table. Let plates and glasses shatter on the floor. Storm off and leave Vi with the damage costs. She just…she dealt with this shit too often. Over and over, ‘but isn’t nuclear power dangerous ?’ Maybe for fucking morons, but if she was building it?

You’d probably mistake a zero for a one somewhere and cause Chernobyl II. 

She dug her nails into her thighs beneath the table, giving herself pain while she gave Vi anger.

“It shouldn’t make you nervous,” she spat out, “nuclear energy is the cleanest, most efficient energy source we have. The only concern is waste, but unlike fossil fuels, we can solve that shit easy. What’s hard is proving to idiots that it’s way safer and less polluting than their fucking gas and coal and everything else.”

Jinx dragged her nails up her legs, flicking them off and pulling them up. She was getting impassioned again, unable to stop her hands and her arms from animating with her words. 

“We could clear all the air, all the water, everything that energy pollutes, in less than a decade if we ran off nuclear and got rid of all that other shit.”

She waved her hand out violently, like she was brushing aside all the morons and people in power that stood in her way. All the ones she ‘had to convince’, but she’d rather just show ‘em. Build something so revolutionary they couldn’t deny it.

Her hand fell down to the table, settling on the cool surface. She stared down at her hand, until the stillness bothered her, so she started tapping, cascading back and forth, and then randomly, index, ring, middle, pinky. Patterns that made no sense, but she could see each tendon of her hand as she touched down and lifted off. 

She always just had energy she needed to expel. The tank never went empty, gasoline sloshing around inside her, craving to spill, begging for the flame.

“You’re making me a bit nostalgic here,” Vi’s words cut through Jinx, her hand freezing mid-motion as she looked up. 

Vi had the softest smile, paired with sweet eyes, just watching Jinx. Jinx wanted to rip it off her face. She was nostalgic? Watching Jinx twitch and tap? What the fuck was her problem, looking at her like some sort of stray cat, flicking its tail?

Jinx narrowed her eyes, just like that spiteful alley cat, and nearly hissed back, but Vi cut her off before she could say anything.

“Ya know, back when you were young, talking about maths and shit that I could never wrap my head around.” Vi shrugged, tilting her head over to the other side, “No surprise you’re still so fucking smart.”

The gasoline swirled up Jinx’s gut, pouring into her chest instead. Like weight, slipped into her heart, ready to burn warm. She tried to smash it down, but the thing with liquid is that it slips through your fingers, and fills whatever container it was placed in. Just like pride. 

Jinx wasn’t comfortable with it, wasn’t used to it, pride. Sure, she knew she was smart, brilliant even. But she also knew that that just meant she could build higher, and it could all fall down harder.

Just like it always does.

Jinx tried to slide past it, let the gasoline sit there but not ignite it, “What? You miss being the dumbest person in the room? When everything I said flew over your head? Gotta work on that self-esteem, sis.”

She gave her a smirk, trying to ease back into someone holding all the cards.

But they had been knocked out of her hands for days now, hadn’t they?

“Not just you,” Vi said, “You and Little Man would talk circles around the rest of us. Spouting shit I still probably wouldn’t understand.”

It was reflex. Vi mentioned Ekko, and Jinx’s hand curled on the table, desperate to shoot back into her pocket, and finger that small key. That’s when she had lost all the cards, anyways, when that key appeared in her pocket like a magician’s trick.

“Yeah, well,” she mumbled, “It wasn’t, like, hard to do. Could probably talk gravity with a dog and still get more out of it than with you.”

“Oh, he’d love that. Being compared to a dog. You should lead with that when you see him.”

Jinx flicked her eyes to Vi, dangerous and low.

“ If you see him.” Vi held up her hands in mock surrender, “Which honestly, you should. He’d probably love to talk nuclear with you. Or, anything you’re working on.”

“What’s with you trying to get me to talk to people, huh?”

Vi ran a thumb along her bottom lip, smiling but a bit sheepish. She chuckled and then leaned in further, whispering, “Okay, this is also a bit selfish of me.”

Jinx didn’t match her tone, deadpanning, “What is?”

Vi leaned away, dropping her weight back against the seat, looking out the window like someone could be spying in. Finally, she sighed and spoke as though it was something shameful to admit, “Well, I kinda need to apologize to him, I guess. But, if I see him again, I don’t know how good I’d be at keeping this a secret.”

She waved a hand between herself and Jinx, like they were in on this together, comrades.

“So,” Vi continued, “the sooner you get around to being okay with seeing him, or, at least, fine with him knowing about your existence, then I can apologize. Mend bridges and what not.”

It was a confirmation for something Jinx had suspected, but never could really hold on to. Until just now. That, despite Ekko and Vi being more in contact with each other, neither of them were talking about her behind her back. Comparing notes, hatching plans. Maybe their fight had really been that bad, bad enough to keep them from reaching out. But, Jinx wanted to sit in a different possibility. That they weren’t betraying her. 

Her hand slipped into her pocket, fingers grazing along the key instead of digging into pain.

“‘M not sure he wants to.” She mumbled, trying to cover up the hope that she felt starting to spill around her gums. 

“Oh, come on. Ekko? That dude holds onto everything, can’t leave nothing behind. Even after what happened, you could offer him a million bucks to leave Zaun, and he’d burn the money in front of ya. One hundred percent he’d at least want to see you.”

The gasoline in Jinx’s heart started to pump into her veins, but it wasn’t calming or warming, or anything like that. It felt like a threat, like potential energy, the capability to spontaneously combust.

Jinx didn’t know if Vi knew. About the last time she saw Ekko. About what she made him do. About how he did fucking leave, and he was right to. 

But Jinx also didn’t know what Ekko and her were doing, what he was thinking. Didn’t know what to do with his simmering anger, his tired eyes, his warm hands. How he kept opening the door. How he gave her a key for that same door. 

How she hadn’t used it yet. 

She kept rubbing her fingers along the sides of the key, avoiding the teeth.

“I dunno,” Jinx said, soft, uncertain under her breath, “You weren’t there, so you also don’t know.”

There was a pause, a heaviness to the air. And then Vi’s hand cut through it, landing, gentle but present on Jinx’s shoulder. For whatever reason, she didn’t shake it off, just looked up at her sister.

“I know, and I wish every fucking day I had been there,” Vi said, voice thick with all the apologies she could say, “But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She gave Jinx’s shoulder a squeeze and then pulled away. Jinx tried not to chase after that touch.

“And I’ll beat Ekko’s ass if he’s mean to you over whatever happened years ago,” Vi grinned, “but, I’m telling ya, he probably just misses you.”

She sounded so confident, so sure of it, that Jinx found herself grinning back. She grasped the key into the palm of her hand, and, it shouldn’t have, being a small bit of metal, but it felt warm to the touch. 

-

Afterwards, when Vi and Jinx were parting ways, Vi definitely shuffled about her feet, shrugging her shoulders like she wanted a hug. Despite how light Jinx felt, she wasn’t ready for that yet.

But she did give her a short two-fingered salute, that small concession, and then spun on her heels. Vi had offered her a ride home, but when Jinx looked up, the stars were still shining. And, the key wasn’t weighing down her pocket anymore. So, Jinx didn’t take up Vi’s offer.

She had a theory to test. In person.

The whole walk there had her heart pumping, each step a shock through her veins. She felt like a generator, gasoline and oil replacing her blood. She swore her breath was just fumes, easy to catch fire. 

Her limbs twitched to the point she would occasionally skip, walk zig-zag, spin backwards. Every bit of her zapping with electricity, a current pulsing through her. The key in her hand was ground, preventing her from shock.

When she finally reached his door, she didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even think about possibility, what was waiting for her, what expression he’d give her. She couldn’t stop her movements, like they were predestined, or more like, all the chemicals were already mixed, shaken, stirred, and she could only be the reaction. Log the results later; just sit back and watch the fireworks. Strap yourself to the rocket and blast off.

Jinx was the rocket, ripping open the lock, blasting into his apartment. She vaguely remembered to close the door behind her, before barrelling into his room. For a split second, she thought the noise she made would be enough to wake him up. But, it wasn’t. He laid there, sound asleep, like there wasn’t someone here to steal his peace. 

If she wasn’t brimming with everything, she would’ve taken the time to watch him, study him. 

The slope of his nose, the edge of his cheek bones, his jaw. The size of his hand resting atop his wide chest. The dark richness of his skin, just barely illuminated by the small moonlight peeking into the room. 

She’d capture it another time, commit to memory whatever other night she wanted to sneak in.

Was it considered sneaking if he gave her a key?

Knowing he gave her a key had her committing, returning to the energy of a criminal, ready to take away his slumber.

She pounced, landing roughly atop his waist, straddling him, and she grabbed his shirt, hands twisting in the fabric and yanking him up. It was just going to be a bit of a scare, something she could sink her teeth into, like a dog chasing a squirrel. If it didn’t catch the squirrel in the end, the remaining adrenaline could make it aggressive, agitated. She was just trying to catch the squirrel and settle down.

But, Jinx wasn’t expecting him to pounce back. 

Suddenly, her world was flipped, slamming her back into the mattress, bouncing just once until a heavy weight landed atop of her. Instinct had her thrashing, trying to twist away, but her legs had no leverage, on the outside of her assailant, and her arms were held down by rough hands, tight on her wrists. 

She felt herself panicking, breaths coming out rushed, as she writhed and struggled, head flailing back and forth, as though she could somehow try and whip him with her braids. Do any sort of damage, ‘cause everything else was fruitless. She couldn’t get her knees into his ribs, couldn’t slip her wrists from his grasp. 

Maybe she could bite him, maybe she could-

She opened her eyes, ready to lunge with her teeth, scared and desperate, needing to fight back somehow. All just instinct, not remembering where she was, who she was, who he was. Just a trapped, cornered animal, nothing in focus, just a drive to escape, to flee, before something killed her. But she froze when she met his gaze. 

Jinx remembered, so suddenly, the look he gave her, the last time his hands were on her wrists. There was the flare of his nostrils, the peek of teeth beneath his snarled lip, the tightness of his jaw jutting out his chin. But it was his eyes that she remembered most. 

In her bones were carved every single look he had ever given her, and she had been spending her free time with him matching them back up. How they softened as he smiled, furrowed as he questioned, narrowed as he held his anger back.

But now, Ekko wasn’t holding it back. And, she had gotten too comfortable thinking she’d never see it again. How wide they got, so fury could fill them up even more. How the black nearly overtook the brown, all so he could see the source of his anger even better. Like he needed to take it all in, so he wouldn’t miss when he finally struck.

He didn’t strike back then. No, he did something worse. He ran. Left, and didn’t turn around. Built himself a home miles and years away.

What would he do now? Would he strike? Would he run again?

She froze, heaving shallow, wild breaths as she matched his gaze. Scared of any reaction, any response.

But then, something slipped into his gaze. He blinked away the anger clouding his vision and then shoved himself off of her, falling back onto his ass. He scrambled a bit further away, but Jinx couldn’t register the exact distance.

She curled into herself, limbs coiling in tight, nails digging into the meat of her arms. Her hair fell in front of her face, hiding the vision of him, and her frantic breaths puffed out slightly against that curtain of blue, not enough to peek through.

It was like she was underwater, beneath all that blue, just sinking, sinking.

Shouldn’t have used that key. Now you’ve fucked it all up.

She didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to hear anything. Didn’t want to lift her head above the ocean and see him gone. Didn’t want to knock the water out of her ears and hear him tell her to leave. 

Fucked it up, fucked it up, fuckeditup, fuckup, fuckup, fuckupfuckupfuck-

“Shit, Jinx,” his voice pierced through the waves, all hushed and stammering, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know…”

It had her lifting her head, just a bit, enough for her hair to fall to the side, giving her a sliver of sight.

He was rubbing his palms into his eyes, rough, hard, the motion of it not self-soothing. Something closer to harm.

It was like a fishing line, yanking her up from the depths. Jinx didn’t even care that she was hooked. She wanted to reach for him, pull at his wrists so he’d stop. 

But, she didn’t know how to do that. Didn’t know how to soothe anyone, not even herself. The only thing she did was try and breeze by, make a joke, laugh to hide the pain. Well, the only thing that didn’t involve pain. 

She uncurled herself, trying for casual, for comedy. And, when he removed his hands from his eyes, all anger and sleep rubbed away, she met him with an impish smile. Even if it felt unsure, fake.

“You got lucky, Little Man,” she roughed out, “Next time, you won’t get the jump that easy.”

Ekko just stared at her, and Jinx was certain she made the wrong choice. Until, a smirk broke across his lips,  matching her own. 

That disappointed her. It was leagues better than his anger, or his harm, but god did it feel like nothing. She hid her disappointment by flopping over onto her back, laying an arm on the bed over her head, and staring up at the ceiling. The ceiling could see her frustration for all it wants to. She didn’t want to upset Ekko any further by letting him privy to her shared secret with the speckled ceiling.

The bed rustled as he settled next to her. Not close enough to touch, but she could feel the warmth radiating from his shoulder over to hers. He didn’t say anything, and, if she was a different person, one with healthy boundaries and coping mechanisms, she might’ve let them just stay in that silence. Fall asleep to it.

But it was eating at her, how few words he had said to her tonight, how little of his voice she had to chew on. And, how she still didn’t prove anything, any theory, about that small key.

“Why?” She asked, only that one word slipping out.

She felt him shift, just barely, as he asked back, “Huh?”

God, she wished he could read her mind. Rather than forcing her to spill everything. She felt pathetic, like a stray cat with a broken tail, meowing at someone to cure the pain.

“...The key.” She forced out, hoping that was enough for him to get. 

She heard him turn his head, slowly, like he was trying to be sneaky about it. But she could feel his eyes on her, boring into her cheek, her temple. 

It came out slow, his voice rough with exhaustion, “I’m tired of opening the door, Jinx. Only so much sleep I can lose.”

Oh. Okay. She let that settle into her, let the gasoline flush out of her veins. 

Over the last few days, she had imagined a range of responses. Most of them awful, horrible, ending in slaps or hits or gnashing teeth saying how much he hated her, can’t stand her, all a joke to see how pathetic she really was. Pull the rug out from beneath her, final punishment for it all. 

On very rare occasions, she let herself imagine something good. She could barely put it into words, ‘cause she didn’t indulge in it often. Like light rain pattering onto her, not enough to soak, but enough to feel the droplets. A smile, a hug, arms around her, hands on her. Pulling her into him, instead of her doing all the pulling.

This, though? She didn’t have this as a theory. Something so practical. Just a solution to a problem. Of course, it made sense when she thought about it, about him.

Always solving problems. 

She turned her head towards him.

He was obviously still tired, so it wasn’t bold, but there was this cocky grin on his face, like he was so proud of that response. Jinx wanted to smack it off of him.

A sly grin split across her face, poised to ruin his pride, as she hushed out, sultry and low, to really hit it home, “So, you lose sleep over me?”

She watched as his mouth dropped, grin gone, replaced by a soft, slight opening. She could see the dark reddish pink of his tongue just barely resting against the top of his lower teeth. His eyes were still tired, but even so, they dilated. 

Not unlike how they looked when he was angry.

Jinx felt like giggling just from that. What a weird little trait to share between expressions.

But then, it had her wondering, mind wandering into dangerous territory. She tried to stop it. Leaning on routine to hopefully curb it all. She flung herself into him, just like she always did. 

It didn’t help. Of course, it fucking didn’t. Not with her hands running up slopes and valleys of a strong, muscular back. Not with her legs twining with powerful, sinewy, basically fucking tree trunks. Not with her nose burrowing into his neck, the slight gasp he gave at the cold. A gasp that she felt like swallowing.

Ekko didn’t help. As he shifted against her, so innocently, reaching around to pull the covers over them. Apparently not affected about how he pressed into her. And then, his arms wrapped around her, and, really, that was unfair.

She closed her eyes shut, trying to sink into the empty black, but it just made things worse. No distractions. Her mind flashing back and forth, between his face just now and his face as he hovered over her. The only similarity being the black of his eyes and how deep those pupils ran, but that didn’t matter. She had made the connection, and her body wouldn’t forget it.

Her mouth was dry, almost enough to spark fire to the gasoline that apparently didn’t actually leave her system, just settled down below in her core. 

She tried to shovel it out, bucket by bucket, but more kept pouring in, as she thought about him pinning her down, heavy on top of her. Her, at his mercy. 

Jinx had to give up, just let the gasoline fill and hope that nothing set blaze to it all. 

And then, Ekko had to fucking speak, his voice deep, reverberating against her, from her nose down her throat, and down into her core, a lit match of a sound, her name on his lips.

“Jinx?”

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

She couldn’t deal with this now. 

So, she tried to shut it down, the only way she knew how.

“Sleep.”

But, she buried herself deeper into his neck, gripped his back even tighter, with greedy, greedy hands, and, with that, she knew she was in fucking trouble.

Notes:

Companion piece to 'A Tooth Out of Line', told from Jinx's POV.

Title of the Series is from the song: Bootleg Firecracker by Middle Kids.

Title of this work is from the song: Stay by SafetySuit.

I set out to write A Tooth Out of Line as a solo piece, where we are supposed to be in the dark on whatever Jinx is thinking. But I found myself getting more and more involved with Jinx's perspective on the whole of it, so I started writing that initial piece with the idea that one day we will get to know Jinx's side of the story. So, here it is.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Midnight Bootleg Firecracker