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The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of neon from the streets of Zaun spilling through the cracked window. Jinx sat slouched on a rickety chair, her legs draped over one armrest, swinging lazily as she toyed with a wrench. Her workshop, normally a chaotic haven, felt suffocating tonight. The usual comfort of clinking tools and scattered gadgets didn’t soothe her; even the rhythmic hum of Zaun’s machinery seemed grating. Something inside her churned—a restlessness that even explosions couldn’t quiet. Her fingers drummed on a cracked table smeared with grease and paint, her knee bouncing as if trying to burn off the restless energy building inside. Her thoughts were like scattered sparks, igniting and fading before they could fully catch.
Every time she tried to focus—on a gadget, a plan, or even blowing something up—her mind drifted to you. The way your lips curved into that infuriating smirk. The calm steadiness in your voice, like you could stare down the wildest storm and not blink. Jinx slammed her fist on the table, rattling a half-assembled grenade. “Damn you,” she muttered, shoving her hair out of her face.
It had been months since you and your hand that briefly rests on Jinx's shoulder, steadying her when she didn't even realize she needed it had entered her life. Jinx hated it, hated how you looked at her like she wasn’t completely broken. And she hated even more how she found herself wanting to be around you, like a moth to a flame she couldn’t understand. Jinx threw the wrench at the wall, watching as it clattered to the floor. It wasn’t satisfying.
“You’re supposed to be fun,” she muttered under her breath. “What’re you doing in my head, Piltie?”
The answer didn’t come from the walls or the neon glow outside. It came from the gnawing ache in her chest, the one she had been ignoring for far too long. Jinx’s grin faltered, her hands twitching.
Jinx shook her head violently, standing up so fast the chair creaked dangerously. “Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening,” she said to the empty room. “I don’t do... this.”
Feelings, she thought bitterly, her fingers twitching. Stupid, messy feelings.
They didn’t belong in her life. They weren’t supposed to exist in the swirl of color and noise she called her world. Feelings made you vulnerable. And vulnerability got people killed. Jinx knew that better than anyone. She’d built walls to keep that pain out, to keep herself moving forward.
But somehow, you had slipped through the cracks.
Jinx paced the workshop, her movements erratic. “It’s just a crush,” she said aloud, trying to convince herself. “A stupid, passing thing. Like...like a firework! Bright, shiny, and gone before it means anything.”
The words tasted like lies.
Her pacing stopped, her boots skidding slightly on the worn floor. She stared at the cracked window, neon light catching in her hair. No matter how hard she fought it, she couldn’t shake the thought of you. The memory of your voice, your steady presence. The way you made Jinx feel like she wasn’t completely falling apart, even when she was.
Jinx let out a frustrated growl, grabbing her zapper and slinging it over her shoulder. “Screw it,” she muttered, storming toward the door. She couldn’t think like this anymore. Couldn’t sit here drowning in emotions she didn’t know what to do with.
If she was going to lose her mind, she might as well do it face-to-face. At least then, she wouldn’t be the only one caught in the blast.
The streets of Zaun were as alive as ever, buzzing with life and chaos. Jinx navigated the labyrinthine alleys with the ease of someone who’d lived and breathed this place for years. Her thoughts raced faster than her feet, fragments of imagined conversations swirling in her head. None of them felt right. She’d either sound too soft, too vulnerable, or too dismissive, too much like the facade she wore when she didn’t want anyone to see her cracks.
You were where Jinx expected: tucked away in a quieter part of Zaun, your makeshift office doubling as a refuge for those seeking your information networks. You were sitting at a desk, your fingers brushing over the edges of a worn map. Jinx paused in the doorway, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Hey, Piltie!” she called, louder than she intended. Her voice echoed in the small space. “Miss me?”
You looked up, your expression shifting from surprise to something softer, more amused. “Hard to miss,” you said, setting the map aside. “What’s on your mind, Jinx?”
Jinx swaggered in, swinging her zapper off her shoulder and letting it rest against the floor. She plopped down on the edge of your desk, kicking her feet against the side. “What, can’t a girl just drop by for a chat?”
“She can,” You replied evenly. “But something tells me this isn’t just a chat.”
Jinx’s grin wavered. She felt the words bubbling up, hot and sharp, threatening to spill over. She needed to keep it light, keep it fun, or she’d lose her nerve entirely.
“You’ve been poking around my head too much,” Jinx said, jabbing a finger at your chest. “You’re messing with my vibe. Can’t have that.”
You raised an eyebrow, your calm demeanor infuriating as ever. “Your vibe seems pretty intact to me.”
“Well, it’s not!” Jinx hopped off the desk, pacing the room like a caged animal. Her hands flailed as she spoke, punctuating her words with wild gestures. “I’ve been…thinking. About you. And it’s driving me nuts! You’re in my head, like some…weird, annoying…thing that won’t go away!”
You leaned back in your chair, watching Jinx with an unreadable expression. “And what’s so annoying about that?”
“Everything!” Jinx stopped pacing, spinning around to face you, the motion so sudden it was as if her chaos had manifested physically. “You’re supposed to be all cool and collected and…and Piltover-y, but you’re not! You’re just—ugh!” She clenched her fists tight, her nails biting into her palms as words struggled to form through the storm in her head. “You make me feel like I’m not completely screwed up.”
Her voice cracked, barely audible under the weight of her emotions. “And I hate it.” She sucked in a breath, her wild eyes locking onto yours, pink meeting steady calm. “Because I like it. And that’s the worst part, you smug, infuriating—” Her voice faltered again, her anger unraveling into something fragile. “That’s the worst part.”
The room fell silent. Jinx’s chest heaved as she stared at you, her words hanging in the air like the aftermath of a detonation.
You stood slowly, your movements measured. You took a step closer, and then another, until you were standing just a few feet away. “Jinx,” you said quietly, your voice steady, “I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“Oh, shut up,” Jinx snapped, though there was no heat in her voice. Her eyes burned, her emotions too raw to contain. “You don’t get it. You don’t get how hard it is to care about someone. To want to be close to them, even when you know you’ll just screw it up.”
Your gaze softened, and you reached out, your hand brushing against Jinx’s arm, your touch featherlight but grounding. “Then stop running from it,” you said simply, your voice low, steady, and maddeningly patient.
Jinx’s breath hitched, her chaotic thoughts momentarily short-circuiting at the calm conviction in your words. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her emotions coiling tighter and tighter until the tension became unbearable. A growl bubbled in her throat as she surged forward, grabbing the front of your jacket with a force that left no room for hesitation.
The kiss that followed was anything but graceful. It was frantic, messy, all clashing teeth and uneven breaths. Jinx didn’t care. She poured every ounce of confusion, frustration, and yearning she’d been choking on into the kiss, desperate to bridge the unspoken gap that had been gnawing at her. You responded in kind, your hands finding Jinx’s waist, steadying her even as the world tilted on its axis.
When they finally broke apart, Jinx’s lips were swollen, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her wild eyes searched your face for a reaction, her heart pounding with something dangerously close to terror. “Well, that’s one way to shoot first and ask questions later, huh?” she muttered, her voice shaky but edged with defiance.
You chuckled softly, a warm, genuine sound that made Jinx’s knees feel unsteady. You didn’t move your hands from her waist. “And I’d kiss you again if it came to it,” you said, your smile calm and certain, like you had known this moment would come all along.
For a split second, Jinx felt a flicker of stability in the whirlwind of her mind, an anchor she hadn’t known she needed. It scared her as much as it thrilled her, but for now, she let herself stay in the moment, letting your presence steady her chaos just a little longer.
For the first time in a long time, Jinx felt something other than chaos. She felt steady, anchored by the presence of someone who saw her—not as broken, but as whole.