Work Text:
Next Stop
A sharp early spring chill swept across the train platform, threading its way through coats and scarves, tugging at collars and cuffs. Commuters hunched deeper into their layers, breath misting in the pale morning light. Among them stood a young woman, blonde hair tucked beneath a beret, fingers pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. A delicate blush touched her cheeks and the tip of her nose, kissed by the cold.
Luxanna Crownguard lifted her wrist and checked the time—7:40 a.m.—just as a familiar chime echoed across the platform. From a distance, the low rumble of a train reached her ears.
A small, content smile curved her lips.
“Always on time.”
Two months into her internship at her aunt’s private security firm, Lux had settled into a rhythm. The job wasn’t glamorous—typing up reports, organizing schedules, handling the occasional irate client—but it was steady, and she enjoyed working under her aunt’s watchful, if slightly intimidating, eye.
The commute, while long, had become one of her favorite parts of the day. Early mornings suited her, and that train ride—particularly that seat in front of the east-facing window—was her little sanctuary. From there, she watched the city awaken each day, skyscrapers catching the first blush of sunlight, golden hues melting away the grey of dawn. That lovely sunshine. It calmed her.
But today was different.
The platform was far more crowded than usual. Murmurs floated through the chilly air.
“They finally started work on the other line,” someone behind her commented.
“Yeah, gonna be like this for a couple of weeks. Brutal.”
“I thought the earlier train would be less crowded,” another grumbled. “Guess everyone had the same idea.”
Lux sighed inwardly. She remembered the news report. With one line down, her peaceful mornings were about to become cramped and noisy.
The train screeched to a stop, and the doors hissed open. A wave of bodies moved forward, and Lux stepped in, immediately swallowed by a crowd at least three times the usual size. She winced, clutching her bag tightly and maneuvering her way toward her usual spot.
'Please still be open. Please.'
She offered polite apologies as she squeezed past passengers. A large man turned unexpectedly, his elbow knocking her shoulder, and a splash of coffee hit her jacket and slacks.
“Oh shit—I'm so sorry,” the man blurted, wide-eyed.
“It’s fine,” Lux said quickly, her tone tight but composed. “My fault.”
She didn’t wait for a response, brushing past in growing embarrassment. 'Great. Now I’m going to smell like coffee all day.'
And then she saw it. Her seat—taken.
A young woman sat there, headphones snug over her ears, long electric blue pigtails spilling from beneath a slouchy beanie. She was humming, eyes closed, head bobbing to a beat only she could hear, one hand slapping her thigh like a drum.
Lux blinked, momentarily stunned. 'Seriously?'
With a resigned sigh, she looked around and found an empty seat facing west—directly across from the blue-haired stranger. She sat, exhaling slowly, doing her best not to sulk. The sunrise would have to wait.
Her eyes wandered back to the girl across from her.
Messy overalls peeked out from beneath a bulky jacket, paint-smudged boots resting lazily against the floor. Her headphones had little cat ears on top. She looked completely unbothered by the world—like chaos would politely step aside for her rather than the other way around.
And something about her—maybe the carefree rhythm of her smile or the effortless way she occupied space—held Lux’s gaze longer than she meant to.
'She’s… pretty.'
The thought surfaced uninvited, sudden and absurd, and Lux immediately looked away, cheeks warming. She pulled out her phone and stared at the screen, willing herself not to look again.
A rustling sound drew her attention back.
The girl had pulled a sketchbook from a shark-themed backpack and was already working, pencil flying across the page. Her posture had changed—still electric, but now focused. Occasionally, she’d glance up, and each time, Lux would instinctively look away or fumble with her phone, heart ticking faster.
It went on like that for the entire ride. A strange, wordless dance of stolen glances and bashful retreats.
Lux had no idea what the girl was sketching—but an irrational, fluttering suspicion had her blushing.
The overhead speaker crackled to life.
“Next stop: Central Station.”
Lux snapped back to reality. 'Work. Right.'
She looked up one last time—just in time to see the girl stow her sketchbook and sling her bag over one shoulder.
As the train shuddered to a halt, Lux stood and moved toward the doors with the rest of the crowd. She felt someone brush against her shoulder and turned.
“Whoops! Sorry, sunshine.”
The girl flashed a quick smile as she darted past, voice light, teasing. Then she was gone, bounding up the stairs two at a time like she was late.
Lux stood frozen for a moment, stunned by the nickname, before something fluttering caught her eye.
A folded piece of paper had slipped from the girl’s bag. Lux stooped to pick it up.
“Hey! Wait—you dropped… this,” she called out.
But the girl had vanished into the crowd.
Lux unfolded the paper, breath catching in her throat.
It was a sketch—of her.
She sat serenely in the drawing, bathed in morning light, the golden rays behind her captured with gentle, deliberate shading. Her expression looked peaceful, soft. Like a character from a dream.
At the bottom, in slightly messy handwriting, was a single word.
Sunshine.
A quiet "Oh..." escaped Lux’s lips.
Warmth bloomed in her chest, chasing away the morning chill.
Luxanna moved through the early morning crowd with quick, purposeful steps, her breath catching in her throat and a flush warming her cheeks despite the lingering spring chill. Her thoughts were a whirlwind.
'Alright. Return the drawing—no, wait. Introduce yourself first. Then thank her. Yes. Introduce, thank, return. That’s the order.'
She repeated the plan like a mantra, a talisman to guard against panic. Today would be different from her routine. Today, she would speak to the girl with the electric blue hair. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her—the smirk that danced on her lips when she brushed past, the wild sparkle in her magenta eyes, the vivid strands of blue that fell past her shoulders in gravity-defying pigtails. Her—
'Luxanna, stop. You don’t even know her. You’re just giving back the drawing. That’s it. That’s all.' She forced the thoughts to crash against the dam of reason.
Slowing her pace, she drew in a calming breath. “Okay,” she whispered to herself.
The platform looked the same as yesterday—maybe a little more crowded. 'There goes my seat again. Maybe today I can sit next to'— She cut the thought off with a gentle slap to her own cheek.
“No. Stop it. You don’t even know her,” she muttered, a little too loudly.
Heads turned.
Lux froze as the heat in her face flared from blush to fire. She ducked her head and pushed past the onlookers, mentally screaming. 'Ugh! Dumb, Lux. Calm down!'
She stood near the edge of the platform, hands in her coat pockets, breathing deep. The crisp air stung her lungs and slowly coaxed her heart back into a steady rhythm.
'I can do this. I’m not a teenager anymore—I’m an adult. And, it’s just a hello.'
Her fingers brushed the edges of the folded paper in her pocket. She closed her eyes and steadied herself, a smile tugging at her lips. Yeah. I got this.
The platform bell chimed.
Lux’s eyes snapped open. 7:40 a.m. The familiar groan of the approaching train echoed through the station.
'Sorry, Sunshine.'
Her heart leapt.
'Oh, no.'
As the doors hissed open, Lux stood frozen until someone brushed past, jarring her into motion. She stepped inside, swallowed by the crowd, offering quiet apologies as she weaved through tightly packed commuters.
'Definitely more crowded than yesterday…'
Then, in the distance—there. The twin streaks of electric blue tumbling from a beanie. The girl swayed to the rhythm of her music, lost in her own world. Lux’s lips parted in a quiet, breathless smile.
'Okay. Just stick to the plan. First, introduce yourself, then—'
Her smile faltered.
Someone was sitting beside her.
A girl—charming, confident, with a tattoo under her left eye and bright, pink hair. She leaned in close, a relaxed grin on her face as she spoke. The girl laughed, light and unguarded, her posture easy and open in a way that only came with familiarity.
Lux stopped. Her breath caught in her chest. A sharp shift of the train entering a tunnel jolted her, forcing her to grab a rail to keep from falling. She turned away and slid behind a wall of passengers, far enough to see them but not to hear.
'Why are you hiding? Just go talk to her!'
But she didn’t move. She watched as the blue-haired girl laughed with the other girl. How she leaned on her.
'Is she family? Friend? Girl…'
She didn’t finish the taught. An ache in her chest impeded her.
She turned away.
'Best not bother them… Maybe tomorrow.'
A strange ache settled in her chest, quiet and heavy. She leaned against the wall and gazed out the window as the train exited the tunnel. Sunlight poured in, golden and warm, casting long shadows across the cityscape as it woke. A calming warmth bloomed within her as she looked at the…
Her fingers drifted once more to her coat pocket, to the fragile edges of the drawing. She closed her eyes. The girl had captured her so gently in graphite and morning light.
'Sunshine.'
She smiled, small and bittersweet. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was steady. Blue like the morning sky.
'Introduce, thank, return. Tomorrow.'
The train began to slow as it pulled into the station, its metallic groan shaking the floor beneath the worn boots of a young rebel with blue hair. Jinx sat slouched in her seat, lazily scrolling through her socials, headphones on, music barely audible above the rumble of morning commuters. She was alone today—not unusual, but more annoying than usual.
The detour from her usual train line had been a total pain in the ass. She’d had to wake up earlier, walk an extra block just to catch this overcrowded rust bucket, then hike two more blocks across downtown just to make it to her barista shift on time. A golden beam from the rising sun slipped through the window and hit her square in the face. She winced.
'Ughhh. I hate mornings.'
The doors hissed open, snapping her from her thoughts. She glanced at her phone. 7:40 a.m. A soft smile tugged at her lips.
There was one perk to this whole rerouting ordeal—the blonde girl. The one she saw that first morning. She remembered it vividly: the way the sunlight had framed her like some painting in a gallery. Her beret had cast just enough shadow to highlight the delicate blush across her cheeks and nose, her hair tumbling in waves of gold. She’d looked like she belonged to the morning, radiant and untouchable.
Jinx had drawn her, of course. Hadn’t even thought twice about it. But in her usual rush not to be late, she’d dropped the sketch. 'At least I didn’t write anything weird on it,' she thought with a cringe. She hadn’t seen her yesterday. Maybe she’d been avoiding her.
'I didn’t creep her out, right?'
The thought settled like a stone in her gut. Jinx winced and leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes fixed on the floor. 'Stupid. Of course she didn’t like me staring at her and sketching like a total weirdo. She looked like the kind of girl who files taxes for fun. All pressed collars and crossed t’s. Uptight office job. Definitely accounting.'
The joke made her snort quietly. 'Still. She was really cute.'
Jinx sighed and let her head hang. The thought that had been haunting her all morning came back to mock her again.
Sorry, Sunshine.
She clenched her jaw and cringed inwardly. 'God. Why did I say that? What the hell is wrong with me? Sunshine? Really?' She replayed the moment again—her own voice, too smooth for its own good, saying something that sounded way more intimate than she’d meant. Or maybe exactly as intimate.
More people stepped onto the train. Someone sat down beside her. She barely noticed. Her gaze was still glued to the floor, her thoughts gnawing at her from the inside out.
Then, a hand. Small. Pale. Delicate. Waving in front of her face.
She blinked and turned, slowly.
There she was.
The blonde girl from her thoughts, the very picture of early morning perfection, worry written across her brow as she mouthed something. Jinx pulled down her headphones just in time to catch her voice.
“Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”
Jinx stared at her, tilted her head. The words processed slowly through the fog of embarrassment and morning exhaustion.
“Wha—” Then she realized how she must’ve looked, slumped forward like she was about to hurl. She straightened in a panic.
“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking?” Her voice lifted at the end, a question in itself. She offered a half-smile, awkward and unsure.
The girl seemed to accept it. Her shoulders eased, and she smiled. “Oh. Okay.”
She turned her gaze forward again. Jinx took the opportunity to study her up close—her lashes, the way her blush deepened in the cold. Probably just the weather. Probably.
Then, unexpectedly, the blonde turned back, eyes wide with resolve.
“Can I help—”
“I’m Luxanna Cowngua—” she blurted out, far too fast, her words tumbling over themselves like they’d tripped and face-planted.
She clamped her mouth shut immediately, her eyes going round with horror. Her cheeks, already pink, now glowed scarlet. Jinx blinked.
“…What?”
“I bit my tongue,” she said, this time softer. More controlled. Her voice trembled with nerves and embarrassment.
Then she held out her hand, formal and trembling all at once.
Jinx looked at it for a moment before taking it, her grip light, unsure.
“Hello,” Lux said, steadying herself with a breath. “I’m Luxanna Crownguard. Nice to meet you.”
Jinx chuckled, some of the tension melting from her shoulders. “Uh-huh… Okay... I’m Jinx. Nice to meet you too, Luxanna Crownguard.”
Lux smiled at that, and for a second, the train, the morning, the world—all of it—faded.
Something shifted in Jinx then. A flicker of warmth. Like a pilot light sparking back to life.
Lux finally broke the moment, reaching into her coat and pulling out a folded piece of paper. She held it out.
“I wanted to return this.”
Jinx’s breath caught. Her eyes dropped to the paper, instantly recognizing it—the sketch. Her stomach dipped. “Ah. Sorry, I should’ve asked before I—”
“And to thank you,” Lux interrupted gently. “No one’s ever drawn me before. You’re really talented.”
Jinx’s mouth opened slightly. Her face flushed with heat. She glanced down at the paper again, then back up.
“…Thanks.”
Lux was smiling again, but it was different this time—more assured, like she’d just climbed a small mountain inside herself and was finally standing at the top.
It made Jinx say something she hadn’t meant to say out loud.
“I’d love to draw you again…”
She winced. 'Damn it.'
“I would love that,” Lux replied, calm and sweet.
Jinx let out a breath. “Cool.” 'I think I like mornings.'
THE END.