Chapter Text
Jinx woke with a headache that felt like someone had hammered her skull into a shape it definitely wasn’t meant to have. The room spun lazily around her as morning light stabbed through the blinds, and the bitter, metallic taste in her mouth reminded her she had done something she shouldn’t have.
Images flickered in her mind. Neon lights. Loud music. A game played on a dare. Laughter too loud. And someone, someone pressed close, warm and familiar. She could feel the weight of a hand in her hair, a whisper of lips near her cheek. And then… nothing. The face was blurred, impossible to remember. Whoever it was, her chest had raced in a way that left her stomach knotting now.
Her stomach turned as she tried to process it. Who had it been? The memory teased the edges of her mind, a fire she couldn’t quite place. She shook her head. It wasn’t him, was it? She immediately dismissed the thought. No, it couldn’t be. She didn’t even know who it was.
Swinging her legs out of bed, she noticed the sheets were tangled, pillows rumpled, and the faint scent of someone else lingering in the air. Cold. Empty. Whoever had been here was gone.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A few half-read messages, notifications from the party pictures online, but nothing that helped. Her stomach fluttered again something tight and unnameable, like anticipation laced with dread.
Ekko, somewhere else in the apartment, was moving through his own morning with a similar tension in his chest. The party lingered in his mind in fragments: the music, the chaos, the laughter, the dare game. And someone, someone pressing close, teasing, warm against himflashed briefly in his memory before dissolving. He could almost feel the press of lips on his neck, the brush of a hand in his hair but the image, too, was hazy, impossible to place.
He glanced around the empty living room, then at the kitchen counter. No one. Just him. The faint echo of heat, of someone’s presence lingering, but no answers.
Who was it?
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Couldn’t matter. Didn’t matter.
By mid morning, Jinx had dragged herself downstairs, every step a reminder of her hangover and the fragments of memory she couldn’t fully grasp. Her tank top clung to her torso, shorts riding high, making her feel exposed. Her eyes flicked up nervously, already half expecting the hazy figure from her memory to appear.
And then she saw him.
Ekko. Sitting at the small kitchen table, coffee mug in hand, hoodie half-zipped, his gaze casually on his phone. She caught him looking at her. Just for a fraction of a second before his eyes darted away, guilty, uneasy. Her chest tightened.
Why am I noticing that? she thought, but she did. Every detail the set of his jaw, the slight curve of his shoulders, the way his hand gripped the mug.
“Coffee?” she croaked, because she couldn’t think of anything else.
He lifted the mug slightly, a shrug, no words. His eyes flicked to hers again for a fraction of a second. And again. Heat rushed to her cheeks.
By mid morning, the silence between them had grown unbearable. Lux appeared in her doorway like a storm, a mischievous grin plastered across her face, arms crossed as if she’d been waiting for this exact moment.
“Morning, sunshine,” Lux began, voice deceptively light. “So you and that guy from last night.”
Jinx froze. Her fists tightened. “What about him?” she asked defensively.
Lux’s grin widened. “You don’t remember?”
Jinx’s stomach flipped. “Remember what exactly?”
Her mind whirred memory flashes of the party, the dare, the warm, teasing closeness… but no face came to mind. Nothing concrete. “I.. I don’t know what you mean.”
Lux leaned casually against the doorframe, teasing, dangerous. “You know exactly what I mean. Last night,you were all over him.”
“No!” Jinx snapped, pacing. “That… that didn’t happen! I… I didn’t… it’s not true!”
Lux’s grin widened. “Uh huh. Sure, keep telling yourself that. But you… and him. The way he looked at you.” She tilted her head. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
Jinx’s ears burned. She tried to shake her head, trying to push down the guilty thrill that curled unbidden through her. “Lux, don’t. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t ”
“Relax, I’m just saying what I saw,” Lux said lightly, but the twinkle in her eyes made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing.
Jinx pressed a hand to her forehead. The fragments of the memory the warm hand, the teasing lips, the way her own heart had pounded made her stomach twist. She hadn’t remembered who it was. And now the possibility it might have been him the stranger whose eyes she had never truly seen made her head spin.
Alone later, Jinx fumbled through her phone, desperate for confirmation. For proof. For anything that could answer the gnawing question who was it?
Most pictures were blurry, meaningless. Drinks spilled, neon lights, friends faces cut off. Then her heart stopped.
A photo uploaded by an old friend, just a casual story snapshot and there it was, in the background. Someone, unmistakably pressed close, tangled hand in hair but she couldn’t tell whose face it was fully.
Heat and shame burned through her chest. Her stomach flipped. The images confirmed what she remembered, but not who it was. Whoever it was, her mind couldn’t yet attach a name. She slammed the phone down, covering her face with her han ds.
Why am I thinking about this?
Ekko moved through his day, restless, uneasy. Every glance toward the living room, every motion that hinted at movement, he felt that tug again the pull of someone he couldn’t quite place. He caught himself looking, remembering a warmth against him, teasing lips, fingers threading through his hair… and yet, no face attached to the memory.
When he caught sight of Jinx moving around the apartment stretching, bending, tank top slipping slightly he froze. Every instinct told him to look away, but he couldn’t. The pull in his chest was undeniable. And yet he had no memory of her being the one he remembered from the party.
Jinx noticed. Oh, she noticed. She caught the fleeting glance, the hesitation in his movements, the almost imperceptible heat in his eyes. She smiled faintly to herself, whispering to Lux later: he’s such a creep.
But secretly, she loved the awareness the power it gave her. The thrill.
Ezreal cornered Ekko during breakfast. The smirk on his face was too sharp, too knowing.
“So,” Ez began, fork in hand, “big night, huh? You and… someone?”
Ekko scowled, irritation and confusion warring across his features. “What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t remember?”
Ezleaned in, grinning. “Come on, man. You were, really into them. Not exactly subtle.”
Ekko slammed his hand on the table, voice rising. “I don’t remember anything past the dare game! I swear!”
Ezreal shrugged, grin unshaken. “Uh huh. Sure. But, you know, you were staring not like a normal roommate stare. Like… like someone you couldn’t stop thinking about.”
Ekko’s jaw tightened. It was her? Jinx? Every nerve in his body screamed embarrassment, desire, frustration. Was he imagining it? His mind reeled back to flashes he couldn’t place: lips, fingers, heat—but he had no memory of who it was. No face. Just the pull, the tension, the feeling that wouldn’t leave him.
Meanwhile, Jinx was obsessing again. She scrolled through her phone, then paused, staring at the photo that confirmed her memory. The tangled hair, the close bodies, the nearly kiss yet still no concrete face attached.
Her hands were shaking, heart racing. She wanted to throw the phone across the room. She wanted to call him out. She wanted to hide.
Instead, she did the only thing she could—she watched, waited, replayed every detail in her head, imagining the warmth, the heat, the way her hands had felt tangled in someone else’s hair.
Jinx had barely finished replaying the blurry photo in her head when a knock on the apartment door startled her. She jumped, heart hammering. It was just Ekko or at least, him stepping into the room with a casual “morning” that didn’t reach his eyes. More like as a joke to make fun of her.She noticed it immediately. The way his gaze lingered a second too long on her bare shoulders, the curve of her shorts, the way her tank top clung to her figure. Her stomach flipped.
God, he’s looking. He’s looking at me.
A mischievous, dangerous grin slowly spread across her face. She stepped toward him, slow, deliberate, just close enough that he could feel her presence like a pull in the air.
“You know,” she began, voice low and teasing, “that shirt doesn’t really suit you.”
Ekko’s eyes flicked down to the hoodie he was wearing, then back up, cautious. “It’s fine,” he said curtly.
Jinx snorted, stepping closer, brushing against him almost by accident or was it? “Fine? Really? Looks better on me, probably.” Her fingers reached for the hem of the fabric, tugging gently at the hoodie with just enough force to pull him slightly closer.
He stiffened immediately. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing not in anger, but in a tension that made her chest thrum with anticipation.
“You’re lucky,” he muttered, trying to step back without actually moving away. “I’m feeling generous.”
“Oh? Feeling generous, huh?” she purred, tugging the hoodie again. “Or just scared you might actually… like it?”
Ekko’s eyes flicked down for a fraction of a second, caught. He knew she had seen him, knew she’d noticed. And her smirk told him she was enjoying the effect. His chest tightened, a rush of something uncontainable.
Jinx let go of his shirt with a dramatic flourish, spinning on her heel. “There. Happy?”
Ekko’s hands twitched, gripping his mug tighter. “Yeah. Happy,” he muttered, though his voice was taut.
She didn’t move away. She let the moment linger. Every inch between them crackling with unspoken things, memory flashes, desire, confusion. She could see him struggling to hold back, resisting,or at least pretending to.
“You know,” Jinx said, stepping closer again, “if you keep looking at ne like that, I might just start thinking you’re a total creep.”
“And if you keep teasing me like that,” he shot back, voice low, “I might just stop pretending to be scared.”
The air between them thickened, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed until it was just them the memory she couldn’t place, the tension she couldn’t ignore, the heat she wanted to deny.
By mid afternoon, the teasing continued, unavoidable. Ekko was in the living room, Jinx passing by him. She adjusted her tank top casually, knowing full well he’d notice. And he did. Every flicker of his gaze made her smirk, tiny victories in a game only she understood.
She brushed past him in the hallway, deliberately close. She felt his chest stiffen, the muscles tense under the fabric of his hoodie. A shiver ran down her spine, heat pooling low in her stomach.
“You’re obsessed,” she whispered under her breath, half to herself, half to him.
“Excuse me?” Ekko’s voice was clipped, but there was a tremor in it.
She glanced over her shoulder, a wicked grin on her face. “Nothing. Just… you look funny when you try to act casual.”
Evening came, and Jinx finally retreated to her room, phone in hand, heart hammering. Lux poked her head in.
“You know,” Lux said casually, leaning against the doorframe, “he doesn’t remember either.”
The words hit Jinx like a punch to the gut. Her stomach flipped. Relief? Humiliation? Rage? All at once. She sank onto her bed, pressing her face into her pillow, shaking with a cocktail of emotions she couldn’t untangle.
He doesn’t remember.
Her phone lit up again, and she couldn’t resist. One more glance at the photo. Her hand tangled in hair, bodies pressed close, lips so near, and he didn’t remember.
Heat, anger, lust, and frustration coiled inside her, tight, unyielding. She whispered to herself, almost inaudibly.
“Why him?”
And for the first time all day, she let herself feel it, the pull, the ache, the chaos of desire and obsession that would not, could not, be denied.