Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Oh, of course this would happen”

The tone of disapproval, laced with a hint of sarcasm, echoed through the cavernous room. In a place that large, every small movement became an explosion of sound, ricocheting off the walls and filling the emptiness with unintended drama.

“And whose fault is that? Hiding in a room at the stairwell to avoid a meeting wasn’t my idea”, rolling his eyes, Ekko responded to her directly, but his energy was better spent trying to fix the mess they were in.

“Right. You just happened to be the one who agreed about not sitting through a coaching talk and following, huh?”, she clicked her tongue and crossed her arms tightly. Her whole posture radiated tension. Clearly, this wasn’t her ideal way to end a shift. “All I know is we’re fucked, Ekko”, she muttered, fishing her phone from her pocket. The cold blue glow lit up her face from below, making her look almost ghostly. “Vi’s gonna kill me…”

“And what do you think my uncle's gonna do, huh, Jinx?”, he shot back, tugging at the strap of his backpack and slamming a locker shut. The sound echoed like a gunshot. “I’m crazy late too. Nothing we can do now. We need to find a way out”

He had already lost his cool, which was rare for him. But let’s face it, the entire situation was as absurd as it was infuriating.

It had all started when he took a part-time job at the department store in the mall. Torturous in itself, but he hadn't had much choice. Money was tight, and he wanted to make the most of his summer break before returning to college. 

The hours were decent, and he’d ended up staying in this position longer than he originally planned. The job sounded simple enough on paper: clock in at 5 PM, work until 9, then close up and clean the place. He never got out before 11, and the drive home became a game of blinking fast enough to stay awake behind the wheel. The store was massive, three stories tall, and he worked in the electronics section.

Yet, the grind was long, repetitive, and thankless. He couldn’t even sit down during his shift, and to make things worse, the cleaning hours didn’t count toward his actual work schedule. Still, it was the only thing he’d landed for those two months. The pay was a joke, sure, but at least they didn’t ask for a Herculean résumé. And he desperately needed the cash. Even with a scholarship, college drained his wallet with books, fees, and every little thing in between.

What he hadn’t expected, ironically, was that the hardest part would be enduring his colleague from cosmetics.

Jinx . A girl with electric-blue hair and eyes sharp as glass. Her nail polish changed every other day, her eyeliner was always experimental and bold, like little lightning bolts pointing toward mischief. Somehow, she’d wormed her way into his routine.At first, it was subtle. She started sitting next to him during lunch. Which was… odd, considering she avoided just about everyone else, only pestering someone once in a while. Then she began hovering near electronics, never saying much unless he spoke to her first.

He found her infuriating… and fascinating. A chaotic mix of sarcasm, biting humor, and this strange, magnetic presence. It was complicated. But he caught himself walking over to her just to talk about whatever random thought was bouncing around in his brain that day. The problem with Jinx, though, was that she only did what she wanted. Even when she pretended to follow the rules, she bent them to her will. 

Their manager was one of those people obsessed with motivational speeches, constantly spewing buzzwords about “ growth mindsets ”. One Friday, near the end of their shift, he gleefully announced he had a “ surprise ” for the whole staff. Everyone was to gather in a conference room near the supply closet.

That’s when Jinx grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him aside—no warning, no explanation.

“What?!”, he snapped, more startled than angry.

“I know what this is. It's a motivational talk from some Instagram coach he worships. We’re ditching it”, she wrinkled her nose like someone had asked her to eat glass-covered spaghetti.

He jerked his arm back. “So what? It's just a talk”, maybe it was her tone, or the way she pulled him, rough and impatient, that irritated him. If she’d just said it normally, he probably would’ve agreed without a second thought.

“You really wanna sit through a speech blaming our minimum wage on our ‘mindset’ instead of our cheapskate boss?”, she arched her brow, arms folded tight over her chest.

Ekko mirrored the pose, staring at her for a few moments. He could already hear the rest of the team shuffling toward the meeting room. Yeah, no. He wasn’t in the mood to be coached tonight.

“So where are we going?”

“Just shut up and follow me”

And so they ended up sneaking through the stairwell into a forgotten little room. It smelled faintly of dust and cheap cleaning spray. A few mismatched chairs, a box of random lost-and-found weird stuff, and some old brooms cluttered the corners.

“How’d you find this place?”

Jinx threw herself into one of the chairs, legs crossed, phone already out. Its case was black with neon scribbles glowing under the light.

“It’s the lost-and-found room. But they dumped a bunch of junk in here. Event chairs, random props.... I found it during that stupid workshop when they asked me to grab some folding seats”, she was using the selfie camera to fix her lashes. “Cosmetics staff kinda adopted it. People forget all kinds of stuff at the counters”. Then, almost offhandedly, she added: “also gets used for... hookups sometimes”

That made him swallow hard. He licked his lips, suddenly unsure of where to look. He didn’t want her to see just how much that detail threw him off. So he did what anyone trying to act cool would: pretended not to care as he took a seat across from her, and pulled out his own phone.

“Oh, yeah. Sure”, his voice was strained with faux indifference.

Of course, she noticed. She always noticed. It was maddening how easily she could read the cracks between his words.

“Relax, I didn’t drag you here for that”, she said, a sly, wicked smile curving one side of her lips, they were dark red and a little smudged. “Unless... that’s how you want to kill time”

"Keep dreaming", he shot back, quicker than he meant to.

Truth was, he was scared shitless of giving her any clue that the idea had actually crossed his mind.

His coworker and sort-of friend, Scar, had pointed it out once. Said something like, “ I swear you’ve got a thing for her ”. That made him angry. “ What? You’re nuts. Why the hell would you say that? ”, Ekko barked back. Scar just shrugged. “ You’re always running after her ”. He’d called it bullshit, said she was the one constantly bugging him , never giving him a moment’s peace. But then, there was that day after lunch when Jinx didn’t show up—no explanation. He wandered over to cosmetics, just to check what was up. It turned out it was her day off.

And the worst part? Scar had been right behind him when he found out. “ Told you so, she’s your work-crush ”, he'd said, grinning like a bastard.

Since then, Ekko started paying more attention. And yeah… it was true, he did keep ending up around her. And yeah… he had caught himself staring at her lips more times than he’d like to admit.

Jinx just shrugged, completely unbothered by his bitter reply, like it barely grazed her.

They spent most of the time scrolling through their phones, occasionally sharing memes or weird stuff from their feeds. It wasn’t awkward. Strangely enough, it never was with her. 

About an hour and a half in, a message popped up on Ekko’s screen from Scar: " this shit's over. You and your crazy girl can stop doing whatever the fuck you're doing. I’m leaving "

The innuendo made him clear his throat, loud and awkward.

“It’s done”, he announced.

Jinx threw her arms up like she was praising some god of freedom. “Finally!”

But when they reached the door and tried to open it, nothing. She yanked at the handle with both hands.

“This piece of shit's stuck”, she growled, already pissed off.

“Move. Let me try”

She stepped aside, and he took her place, planting his feet and giving the door a solid tug, same move, same result.

It really was jammed.

“What the fuck did you do to it?” Ekko asked, brows furrowed, still yanking at the door like it owed him money.

Jinx scoffed, arms folded across her chest. “Me? Wow, fucking really? I’m not the one trying to rip the thing off like the goddamn Hulk”

“You’re the one who touched it last”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault the door doesn't like you?”, Jinx barked back, her hands were already on her hips, head tilted in that exaggerated way that made her braid swing over her shoulder.

Ekko groaned, letting go of the handle with a loud clunk and stepping back. “Maybe if you hadn’t yanked it like you were trying to rip it off the hinges…”

“I was trying to open it, genius”

They stood there, glaring at the metal door like it had personally insulted both of their families. Around them, the room felt smaller than it had a moment ago, walls closing in, the smell of old mop water and plastic chairs suddenly more intense. The overhead light buzzed in a way that crawled under Ekko’s skin.

He tried again. The damn thing didn’t budge. Still stuck. He exhaled sharply, jaw flexing, frustration already bubbling into his neck.

“Shit’s actually jammed”, he muttered tiredly.

“Nooo, really?!”, Jinx’s voice dripped sarcasm as she leaned against the wall, tapping the side of her head like she was the only sane one left in a collapsing world. “Maybe if we yell at it loud enough, it'll develop a conscience and let us pass!”

Ekko turned toward her, already regretting everything.

“You’re so helpful”

“I try”, she blinked like a fairy, putting her hands together and showing a sweet and fake smile.

“Can’t believe we’re trapped because you didn’t want to sit through one goddamn coaching session”, he rubbed his face, exasperated.

Jinx rolled her eyes at him and flopped back down into the chair like she had all the time in the world, long legs stretched out like she owned the floor, her arms lazily draped over the armrests. She started scrolling through her phone again, the glow lighting up her face in that cold white-blue that made her eyes look even brighter. “If you’d rather be in there listening to ‘believe in your dreams while the system bleeds you dry,’ be my guest. Maybe if you clap hard enough, a bonus will materialize”

Ekko paced like a caged animal, jaw tight, scanning the cluttered room. Restless and maybe a little embarrassed. Okay! A lot. Scar’s voice echoed in his head: “ you’re obsessed ”. He’d always  snapped at him, denied it, blamed it all on her. And now? Now he was locked in a room with her because he’d followed her in. Of course he had.Dumbass.

A half-open storage cabinet leaned precariously against the wall, stuffed with crap, broken display pieces, cleaning supplies, even a busted tablet stand. His brain started ticking, trying to figure out how to jerry-rig a solution. There had to be something.

He hated this. Hated feeling cornered and stuffed, especially with her there, watching.

Because even with the banter, even with the attitude, she made him nervous. The kind of nervous that made your palms sweat for no reason and your brain stutter when she looked at you too long. And she did look. Like now. From the chair, those sharp blue eyes followed him, half-lidded and amused, like she was watching some slow-burn drama unfold.

“You done pacing yet?”, she teased.

“No. Unlike some people, I actually want to get the fuck out of here”

Trying to focus, he rifled through the random junk in the supply cabinet. Metal mop handle. Zip ties. A snapped plastic shelf bracket. Duct tape. Enough random crap to build a small death trap or, hopefully, a way out.

He worked in silence, trying not to think about the way Jinx hummed to herself as she played some stupid mobile game. Trying not to think about how often he’d caught himself staring at her mouth when she was talking. Or how weirdly quiet the store felt now, like the whole building had exhaled and forgotten them.

Finally, after what felt like an hour and a half of tinkering, muttering, and resisting the urge to scream, he managed. Using a long piece of bent metal from a mop handle, a cracked broomstick, and a ridiculous amount of duct tape from the forgotten workshop drawer, he’d fashioned a sort of lever. Not elegant or, let’s face it, safe, but it was functional.

With a grunt and a final yank, the lock gave way with a metallic snap, and the door creaked open just enough to let them squeeze through. The handles and the top lock were definitely broken, but at least there weren't any cameras around to get who did this.

“Ha!”, he shouted triumphantly, a wild grin on his face. “Bow before your genius”

“Yeah, yeah”, Jinx muttered, brushing past him. “Next time we get trapped somewhere, you’re invited, genius ”

They squeezed out into the dim hallway, and the silence hit them again. A strange kind of quiet, like they weren’t supposed to be there anymore, as if the store had closed its eyes and forgotten them.

They made their way to the locker rooms. Inside, the air was cold and metallic, smelling faintly of deodorant, cheap body spray and sweat of a hundred shifts. Ekko turned to tell her he was going to the man’s locker, while Jinx already started stripping off her uniform like she didn’t care who was watching. Which… she didn’t. Obviously. He jerked his head away so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, eyes fixed on a crack in the tile that suddenly became the most interesting thing in the universe.

“I’m going”, he announced and bolted.

He peeled off his work vest and tossed it carelessly into the metal bin, already pulling a worn jacket over his white tank top. Exhaling, he tried to forget seeing her shirtless.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he unlocked it to find a tidal wave of angry messages from his uncle. The kind with all-caps and “ ??? YOU BETTER REPLY ME, BOY!!!! WHERE ARE YOU???? ”. Ekko ran a hand down his face, groaning, and typed out a quick reply just so the man wouldn’t assume he was dead in a ditch. Probably, his uncle would yell, again, about how just because he was over eighteen it didn’t mean he could just disappear, and all that. He would tell his dad, who was away, and his dad would tell his mother, who would, probably, indirectly make his life hell. 

Fuck. He was so fucked. 

“You good over there?”, her voice pulled him back.

He glanced back and nearly lost his grip on the locker door.

She was strapping on fingerless gloves like she was about to start a bar fight, her long legs now wrapped in criminally  tight black riding pants and boots scuffed from who-knows-what kind of chaos. Her leather jacket hung open over a lightning blue crop top, and the helmet, covered in faded stickers and one small, painted smiley face, cradled  against her chest with the back or her arms.

Almost choking, he turned his eyes away from her. “ Don’t say she looks hot. Don’t you dare say she looks hot ”, he thought. But Jesus, she did, in fact, look very hot. He coughed loudly.

“Yeah. Just grabbing my bag”, he blurted and all but fled to his locker, yanking the door open and slinging his backpack and slinging it over one shoulder, trying not to look like he was fleeing the scene of a crime.

Jinx was staring at her phone now, frowning.

And then:

“Oh, of course this would happen”, her voice echoed in the high-ceilinged locker room, that flat mix of disbelief and sarcasm that made everything worse.

Ekko didn’t even turn around. “ In a place this big, everything we say sounds like a damn Greek tragedy ”, he thought.

“And whose fault is that? Hiding in a stairwell closet to skip a meeting wasn’t my brilliant idea”, he said and rolled his eyes.

“Right”, she continued, folding her arms tight. Her tone was sharp, but underneath it, something strained was clawing to the surface. “You just happened to be the one who agreed to ditch the meeting and follow me, huh?”

Ekko sucked in a breath through his nose and stayed quiet.

“All I know is we’re fucked, Ekko”, she muttered, fishing out her phone again. The glow lit her face in pale blue, casting shadows under her eyes. “Vi’s gonna kill me…”

That hit something. His fists clenched.

“And what do you think my uncle’s gonna do, huh, Jinx?”, he snapped, slamming his locker shut so hard the metal rattled. “I’m crazy late too. Nothing we can do now. We need to find a way out”

That edge in his voice, rare and jagged, lingered in the air. He never raised it like that. But this situation was a joke. A dumb, spiraling joke, and it had gone too far.

That was when they heard it, the loud definitive clunk thought the whole store and a high-pitched beep that seemed to ring through every space.

“Wait… was that…?”, Jinx’s voice trailed off.

Ekko’s heart dropped into his stomach. He bolted down the hall, she was right behind him, their footsteps echoing like thunder in the empty store. They reached the front just in time to hear the second click. Damn those electric locks!

The metal shutter was down, the security panel blinking red, and behind the glass, nothing but darkness. Total silence.

“No. Fucking. Way”, Jinx laughed. It started slow, just a chuckle, but then turned into full-blown cackling. “You’ve gotta be kidding me”, she laughed out loud.

He stared at her like she hit her head.

“This isn’t funny”

“It’s hilarious, actually. You broke us out of one prison just to land us in another”, she wiped a tear from her eye.

“They locked us in, dumbass. Store closes at midnight. No night shift inside the store on weekends. No cleaning crew ‘til six. Still finding it funny?”

“Wait, really?”, Jinx looked less amused and more confused. “How you know that?”

“That’s what happens when you skip meetings. Nobody updates you on jack”, he dragged both hands down his face.

Ekko wanted to scream, punch a wall, kick all the garbage bins around and destroy a shelf full of plastic-wrapped socks. Or maybe just lay on the floor and pretend to be a rug until morning. Instead, he leaned back against the glass and slid down to sit on the cold tile, backpack dropping beside him with a thud.

Jinx walked a slow circle, looking around. The lights had gone into low-power mode, casting everything in a soft blue glow. Mannequins stood frozen in half-smiles and shelves waited in perfect rows. She turned toward him, eyes glittering. 

“Wanna break shit until morning?”

He looked up at her, still slumped, defeated and laughed.

“That your solution to everything?”

Still, he wasn’t happy. Ekko had planned his time perfectly, to fit everything he needed it to do. Now, his plan was ruined. 

“Pretty much”, she extended a hand. He didn’t want to take it, he shouldn’t take it. But he did and let it her yanked him from the cold floor.

“Six in the goddamn morning”, he muttered. “What the hell are we supposed to do until then?”

“We’ve got an entire store to ourselves. Could be worse”, Jinx shrugged like the answer was obvious.

Raising an eyebrow, he stared at her like she’d grown a second head. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. Normal people would do anything to leave work, the earlier the better, but here was this strange, sharp-edged girl acting like she’d choose to stay locked in. And what was worse, she was dragging him into it. Again. 

“You want to do what, exactly? Raid the snacks and jump on mattresses ‘til we pass out?”

Jinx grinned. “You say that like it’s not the best idea you’ve heard all night”

Fuck it. He couldn’t argue. Not when he was already too tired, too wired, and too aware of the way her eyes sparkled under the soft emergency lights.

“Fine, whatever”, he said with a sigh, adding a dramatic flair as he gestured toward the interior of the store. “Lead the way, chaos queen”

And so they wandered deeper into the sleeping beast of the department store—two shadows in a fluorescent maze. Past aisles of makeup, stacks of towels folded too neatly, mannequins frozen in perfect smiles. They raided the break room for snacks, tossed grape-flavored bear candies at each other like grenades, and laughed too loudly for the silence around them. 

In the electronics section, luck struck again. Turns out, one TV was still logged into a Netflix account. Jinx let out a victorious “ Ha! ” and threw herself onto a fake suede sectional sofa, sprawling across it like royalty. Ekko followed, grabbing the remote, and with the flick of a button, a new world lit up the biggest screen.

They settled into a kind of ridiculous normal Sunday night, half-watching a bad action movie while unwrapping too many snacks. Somewhere between a car explosion and a cheesy kiss scene, Ekko turned his head slightly to glance at her.

“Why do you even talk to me?”, he asked, voice quiet and honest. “You basically ignore everyone else”, he organized the colors of a bunch of the gummy worms he had in hands.

Jinx didn’t look at him right away. She leaned back, chewing on a piece of licorice, and stared at the screen for a moment longer than necessary.

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t suck up to our boss”, she said finally, blunt but sincere. “You clap back. I like that”, Ekko blinked, caught off guard. Was he the type who talked back too? He never noticed. “And…”, she added, almost as an afterthought, “you’re kinda smart. Don’t tell anyone. Would ruin your whole angsty-boy mystique”

He chuckled under his breath, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “Right. Gotta protect the brand”

Their eyes met for a second too long, and then she broke it, casually tossing a chip at him. 

Later, they explored more of the store. They found a pair of scooters and raced up and down aisles. In the seasonal section, Jinx tried on a giant devil horns headband and mockingly declared herself “Queen of Bad Life Choices, Shadows and Everything in Between”.

By the time they found the furniture section, it felt like stepping into another world. A calm one, with softer warm lights, plush surfaces and faux-blankets draped over display beds.

Jinx kicked off her boots and collapsed into the nearest mattress with a groan.

“This one’s mine. Go find your own”, she made a dismissive hand gesture, with her face against a pillow. 

Ekko dropped onto the mattress beside hers, the frame creaking slightly beneath his weight. The softness beneath him was a cruel kind of comfort, like his body had just remembered how tired it was. He let himself sink into it fully, arms sprawled out, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His heart still hadn’t settled, it was thudding from the sprint. From her. The way she laughed like she had nothing to lose. The way she looked at him like he wasn’t just another cog in the broken machine of their world.

“We’re gonna get fired for this”, exhaling heavily, he realised he was very sleepy.

The weight of the day pressing into his chest. All the careful time management, the plans, the rules he tried to live by, shattered by one impulsive girl and a locked metal shutter.

“Worth it” she whispered from the next bed over, already curled into a ball like a street cat. One arm draped lazily over her face, but her tone carried a smile.

When he didn’t respond, she popped her head up just enough to peek at him through her tangled hair. Her expression was unreadable in the dim light—half amusement, half something softer.

“But don’t fret that little pretty head of yours”, she said, voice light and teasing. “We put everything back into place. And I know the guy who works the footage at security, he’s a real pushover, meek weird guy. He won’t say anything. Heck, he might even delete it if I ask nicely”

Ekko blinked, still staring at the ceiling. He almost laughed. That kind of confidence could only belong to someone like her, who lived like the consequences were just rumors, and rules were something to climb over.

And somehow, impossibly, it made him feel a little better.

He closed his eyes, the tension draining from his shoulders at last. Everything around him softened: the lights, the quiet hum of the building, the sound of her shifting under the covers.

The last thought to cross his mind before the dark took him was unexpected, unplanned, and oddly certain: Tomorrow, I should ask her out.

Chapter Text

Every profession has its pitfalls. Sometimes, they're nothing more than tiny oversights, negligible in other trades, but others are fatal. Like building a bridge and forgetting to factor in a few key variables. One misdriven nail, one misplaced beam, and it all comes crashing down. In Jinx’s line of work, even the smallest mistake could get her killed. Not that she minded. She liked what she did, was damn good at it, and the hefty payout was just the cherry on top. High stakes, high rewards.

She adjusted her clothes again, the damn vest under her shirt was rubbing her ribs raw, and tightened her grip on the wheel. Jinx usually drove like a lunatic. In a chase, though, she turned into Lewis freaking Hamilton.

“Ease up”, came the voice crackling through her earpiece.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with five black SUVs up your ass”

As if saying it out loud summoned the image, she flicked her eyes to the rearview mirror. Glimpses of black gliding behind her, like vultures circling. She stomped on the gas and weaved between two sedans, veering slightly into the wrong lane.

“If you die with the target before we get the intel, there’s no payout”, the voice nagged again.

“I know, Radiant . Let me do my job, just do whatever you do, like opening the damn light-trafics for me, or something”, she snapped, yanking open the glove compartment and grabbing her semi-auto pistol.

Leaning out the window, she aimed and fired at the nearest car’s tire. It spun out instantly, skidding across the road and crashing into another in the pack, slamming both straight into the barrier. A civilian car almost joined the wreck, but luck spared it, it merely twirled and stalled in the middle of the road, blocking the others from giving chase. One SUV was stuck behind it, horn blaring in frustration.

Smirking, Jinx pressed the earpiece. “Radiant, I’m almost off the bridge. I need a fast route through the city, but messy and unpredictable. Get me to point sixty-three, okay?”

“Copy that”

She rolled her eyes, she hated the tactical jargon. Casting a brief glance at the figure in the backseat, she noticed it laid still, shrouded by a tightly bound black bag. She knew its hands and feet were cuffed too, but even so, she didn't trust enough to consider this presence harmless.

Through the right-side mirror, she spotted one of the cars trying to flank her. “ Let’s dance ”, she whispered, grinning, and pushed the pedal even harder. She maneuvered through traffic like it was a game, sidestepping vehicles like a bird in a hurry. The earlier crash had left some drivers dazed, some even pulled to the shoulder just at the sight of her screaming toward them. But her main concern was the bastard on her tail. Whoever it was, they were good. Too good. If she slowed for even a heartbeat, they caught up. Every tricky move she pulled, they matched.

From both cars that survived the previous crash, only that one was the problem, riding her like a shadow. But the end of the bridge was in sight, she could almost taste it. Once in the city streets again, they both knew she would disappear.

“Hey, Jinx, listen up. They’re barricading the exit. I'll make a space for you to get through, but you gotta be fast”

“When am I not?”, she shot back. She heard a heavy sigh on the other end before the line clicked off.

Movement up ahead. Definitely the cops, probably scrambling to block the road after catching wind of the chase that started across the city. She cracked her neck and focused on the line of cruisers forming a horizontal blockade. She had no clue what Radiant would do— but Radiant always pulled through.

Tuning in to the blaring megaphone voice ahead, she listened: “ Please pull over. Repeat, all vehicles pull to the sides immediately ”. Then, as if realizing what kind of storm was barreling their way, the voice barked louder: “ Drivers of the black vehicles! You are surrounded. Surrender immediately! ”

But who the hell stops in the middle of a high-speed chase in a freaking Bugatti ?

As she neared the makeshift barricade, that wild grin began stretching across her face. One last glance at the motionless sack in the back seat. “Buckle up back there, buttercup. The real ride starts now”.

With blind faith in her partner, she didn’t hesitate, not even when the car behind her started to slow down, maybe second-guessing. And then, like thunder cracking open the sky, a Tesla Cybertruck rammed into two police vehicles, creating a gap just wide enough for her.

She seized the moment.

The cops barely had time to shout as she tore through the breach, tires shrieking, laughter bubbling from her lips as she disappeared into the chaos—leaving a trail of blue uniforms, curses, and burning rubber in her wake.

Finally, she’d hit the city limits. Past that goddamn bridge.

As she weaved through tunnels and cut sharp corners with balletic precision, she nearly gave in to the urge of rolling the window down and letting the wind slap her arm raw. Instead, she laughed, a loud, triumphant echo bouncing off the tunnel walls, celebrating her brush with chaos like a victory. This! This was her oxygen. The thrill of doing something illegal, reckless, and walking away untouched.

This was what she lived for.

Life was good.

After a quick pit stop at a predetermined location, one she scouted weeks ago, she ditched the sports car (which was a shame, she hated leaving her baby behind. It was fast, smooth, and sexy, but way too flashy now). She shoved her “ package ” into a dull gray sedan with a grumble. Brute work wasn’t her strong suit, but hell, nobody else was gonna do it.

By the time she reached the chosen hideout, night had wrapped the city in velvet shadows. The building was skeletal, walls peeling, windows either boarded or broken, like a forgotten relic trying to stay relevant in the modern age. Perfect. She didn’t plan to stay, just long enough to bleed out what she needed. Soon enough, she’d be back in her penthouse jungle of chaos with pulsing music, empty cans of energy drinks, and screens filled with digital mayhem.

"Alright, I know you're awake, Sleeping Beauty", she drawled, pointing the pistol toward the figure still slumped in the back seat. "Not a chance in hell I’m dragging your royal ass up the stairs"

She could’ve sworn she heard a low chuckle, but ignored it. The black bag started to stir, rising like one of those inflatable car lot dancers. It would’ve been hilarious if her nerves weren’t still humming from the chase.

“How charming”, the voice teased, dry and steady.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real lady”, she muttered, climbing out and yanking the door open. She grabbed what she assumed was his shoulder and hauled him out, slamming the door shut with her free hand. With her pistol now pressed lightly into his lower back, she muttered near his ear, “try anything and I promise, my trigger finger’s faster than your thoughts”. A gentle shove got him moving, and she marched him into the building’s hollow gut.

No words passed between them as she led him to the third floor. Once there, she removed her hand just long enough to unlock the rusted door, then pushed him inside and locked it again.

The space was dark, the curtains drawn tight over boarded-up windows. Empty, aside from a single chair planted dead-center in the room. Beside it, a side table littered with gadgets and gear: her tools, meticulously laid out. A half-open briefcase, a laptop streaming feeds from Radiant, some cables, a taser, a TV—just in case her guest got too chatty and she would need some noise. She guided him close to the chair, then yanked the black bag off with one swift motion.

The man didn’t even flinch at the sudden light. Staring straight at her with unblinking calm, his expression was unreadable. Commanding, even. Like he owned the space, despite being cuffed and bruising on his temple. He sat with his spine straight, confident. Unapologetically composed.

And, dammit! It hit her again. That same irritating, magnetic pull that made her flirt with him before she knocked him out cold. Honestly, he was someone she would invite to her hotel room if he wasn’t her target.

"Your throne, your highness", she said, with a tilt of her pistol toward the chair.

Moving slowly and deliberately, he sat. His feet were loosely tied, he had to walk, after all, but his hands remained bound in front with cold steel. She kept her eyes on him as she backed toward the table, refusing to show her back. Grabbing a few more cords, she bound him to the chair properly this time.

Honestly, she didn’t even know why she was bothering with all this overkill. Something about him made her uneasy. 

“Hope you don’t mind the ambiance,” she said, tossing a length of rope to the floor and crossing her arms. 

He tilted his head. “And here I thought I’d be greeted with a bit more finesse after our little bar chat”

She chuckled, circling him. “Sorry to disappoint. Budget cuts”

He leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight. “So, what's next? Interrogation? Torture? Or are we skipping straight to the part where you realize you've made a mistake?”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, pistol still in hand. “Confident, aren't we? For someone in cuffs, you talk a bit much”

Turning toward the desk, she gave him her back for the first time. Messages from Radiant were already popping up on the screen with updates on police movement and the whereabouts of the rest of the crew that had chased her down.

He shrugged, the movement casual. “Confidence is key in my line of work”

She looked him over, head to toe. “It is in everyone’s”. Picking up a sharp knife, she leaned casually against the desk, turning back to face him. Her finger slid along the blade, like she was checking its edge. “So here’s how this little game of ours is gonna work, Mr. Confident . I’ll ask a few questions. You answer. We both stay happy, and maybe you leave in one piece. But if you clam up, play cute, or make the dumb choice to lie to me… well, let’s just say you’ll be leaving lighter. Capiche ?”

Silence. He didn’t respond. His gaze held hers, steady and unreadable, and it sent a chill down her spine. There was something off. According to the intel, there wasn’t even a proper photo of him, he was good at covering his digital tracks. The psych profile labeled him as conflict-averse. Cowardly, even. But the man tied to the chair looked ready to snap the cuffs and lunge at her.

Shit. Had they tagged the wrong guy?

“Boston. Weapon shipments. Do those words ring a bell?”

He narrowed his eyes, then gave a lazy shrug. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’m in a lot of deals”

She hit a key on her laptop, and a slideshow of images and headlines lit up the screen.

“Don’t play dumb. I’m talking about the cargo that got hijacked, about a hundred pistols meant for our client, gone. Some crates of gunpowder, too. Sold off to a drug lord we don’t work with. Then files from another one of our clients ended up in a competitor’s hands days later”. With each sentence, she clicked forward, enlarging the proof. “Still want to deny it?”

He laughed. Loud and full-bodied. The sound echoed in the room, rattling something inside her. She pressed her thighs tighter together, heat rising, against her better judgment.

“Stop laughing and answer me, goddammit”, she snapped, pissed and flustered.

“Oh, I know about it. That mess bugged me too”, he said, still chuckling. “But I think you’ve got the wrong guy here, Jinx”, he was still using her alias, the one she gave him at the bar.

Part of her wanted to carve that smug smile right off his face. Another part, worryingly louder, wanted to memorize that same smirk. Radiant was right. Spending too long around dangerous people had made her dangerously fond of those who looked like trouble.

Studying him, she said. “You don’t look like a hacker”

“And you don’t look like a kidnapper”, he shot back. Touché .

“Yet, here you are”. She paced the room, letting the silence stretch between them like wire. Just as she opened her mouth to press him again, the static in her earpiece returned.

“Jinx. I just got word. The transaction went through. Right now”

Her eyes widened. She spun back to the laptop, typing fast to access Radiant’s live feed. She could feel his eyes on her back, burning.

“Radiant… what do you mean?”, her voice wavered.

“This isn’t our guy. He’s not the hacker. He’s not our Owl”

Her grip tightened on the knife, she nearly screamed out of frustration. All of this work being useless wasn’t like her. Sure, she was known as the Crazy Girl and Silco’s Wild Beast, but she always got the job done. This wasn’t funny anymore.

“What do you mean he’s not Owl?! Goddammit, Radiant! You had one job!”, before she could hear the reply, she ripped the earpiece off and threw it across the floor.

That’s when she heard it—a louder metallic shift. Footsteps approaching. She didn’t turn in time. A hand gripped her wrist, the one holding the knife, and the other closed around her neck.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, sweetheart ”, he whispered near her ear. “I am Owl. Just… not the hacker”

Her blood ran cold. There was only one other person with that alias. A mobster. A leader of a sprawling criminal network. He always flew solo, avoided affiliations; especially with her organization, the one that took on anything for the right price.

“Well… this is awkward”, she joked, feeling the pressure of his hand against her throat. In another context, that grip would’ve been… enjoyable. Right now, she just wanted to twist and bury the blade in his gut.

“Not really. It’s rare someone catches me off guard like you did. Props for that”, he murmured, his breath warm against her neck. “Now I know everything I need, who you are, who you work for. And I think we could help each other. At least when it comes to dealing with that little doppelgänger of mine”

“And why the hell would I work with you?”, she asked, trying to sound defiant despite the odds.

“Why wouldn’t you?”, he said, tightening his grip on her wrist until she hissed. He was trying to make her drop the knife, but, obviously, she wouldn’t. Jinx had an eye as precise as a hawk's when aiming her bullets, and a grip of metal with her knives. His lips brushed her ear, pressing her back against his chest. “I want him dead. You want to catch him. We work together, we both get what we want. Win-win”

The proximity of his breath against her face sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of adrenaline and something more primal coursing through her veins. She whimpered softly, a reluctant sound, as his grip tightened. This position was making her think of anything but negotiations.

"You seem capable of being useful. Fiery, unpredictable. That's how you were at the bar", he murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within her.

Tilting her head slightly, she allowed herself a smirk. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Owl"

"Perhaps, but cooperation might. We both have a common enemy, this fucking hacker who's been causing chaos in both our worlds", he chuckled.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her. She'd come to kidnap a hacker, and now she was negotiating with a mob boss who shared the hacker's alias, all while being thoroughly captivated by him.  Jinx considered his words, the tension between them palpable. Aligning with a mafia boss was risky, but the prospect of taking down the elusive hacker was tempting. Of course, she could break free from him; it wasn't that hard. But why would she? Feeling his hot hand on her neck was kind of... nice? Clearly,she had been working too much and not fucking enough.

"Alright", she conceded, her voice steady. "Send me your proposal, I'll talk to my boss. We can certainly reach an nice agreement"

"Good"

She thought that would be the end of the conversation, but he didn't release her. Instead, his lips found her neck.

"Any more kidnappings scheduled for today?"

"No. You were the last", she raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

His hand on her neck began to descend, making her inhale sharply.

"I think you promised me a good night at the bar, remember?", his fingers brushed past her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Is it still on?"

"Business and pleasure?", she chuckled softly. "Sure"

That was all the permission he needed. His hand continued its descent, slipping into the front of her pants. Two fingers quickly found their way inside, massaging her with skill, eliciting less restrained moans.

"Spread your legs a little more for me"

"Stop giving me orders", she complained, but did as he asked, not without pushing her hips up slightly and pressing herself against him. She felt how hard he already was and a smirk played on her lips.

"Don’t say that, you’re following so well… you like that, do you? ", there was a predatory tone in his voice. Jinx’s breath hitched as his fingers worked their magic, her initial defiance melting into a purr. "I liked being tied up by you. Can you do it again, later?"

She tried to imagine him tied to her bed with red ribbons. It would have been perfect, he would be completely naked and immobilized by her precise knots, while her mouth worked on his cock, making him moan in frustration for not being able to touch her back. The thought excited her even more than she dared to admit.

“So kinky, Mr.Boss”, pressing a good spot on her, she felt her wetness getting bigger. “Sure, I’ll tie you up”, she breathed, trying to glance at him, only to have her mouth captured by him. His mouth was hot and hungry, and she could feel his erection throbbing against her. Pulling his fingers out, leaving her aching for more, and then pushed her against the table, making her bend and almost knock the laptop out, everything was pushed to the sides. The knife fell, forgotten from her grip, and clattered to the floor.

He quickly pulled her pants down and unzipped his own. A muffled gasp escaped her lips as she felt him entering her; even without seeing it, she knew it was thick enough to fill her completely. He thrust into her. 

The fit was perfect, and she moaned at the sheer intensity. His hips began a slow, deliberate rhythm, and Jinx surrendered to the pleasure, her nails digging the wood table. The scent of sweat and raw desire filled the air. 

"Harder”, she whispered, her voice thick with pleasure. 

Obeying, quickening his pace and pushing harder, his guttural groans mingling with hers. Her body trembled, on the precipice of orgasm, and he held her firmly against him. 

"Don't come yet, or I'll stop," he panted, pushing deeper. She bit her lower lip hard, wanting to tell him to fuck off, but apparently, she was already doing just that. "Damn, you're so wet…", he said loudly between groans. "I’m sliding in so easily, fuck"

Choking slightly, a cry tore from her lips. 

“I can’t—!”, she was a mess, panting as she gripped at the sides she could reach on the table. “I’ll cum”, she murmured.

“Don’t”, he pulled her hair, making her moan louder. “Or I’ll make you pay”

If she weren't moaning and gasping for air, she would laugh out loud. “You can try —ah, fuck! But both of us—hmm, know”, she stopped, looking behind her shoulder and seeing him looking at her from above, some weak sounds escaping her lips. ”I will punish you worse after that”

Smiling at her, his hand on her hip pressed more strongly, the tip of his nails getting into her exposed flesh. 

“Call my name when you cum”, another tug on her hair snapped her head back. 

"I don't fu-fucking know your name", she gasped faintly, closing her eyes to fully give in to the waves of pleasure washing over her body, she was so close. She wondered if Radiant was hearing all of this from the electronic earpiece, now forgotten on the floor. If she was… well, at least it was a good show.

"Ekko", he replied, the sweat dripping from the corner of his forehead only made him seem more masculine, or perhaps it was the whole package: a mobster with a deep voice who fucked her good. "And scream loudly, hmph–! I want to hear you"

One more fast thrust and her body arched, she melted against him, the strong feeling of pleasure utterly consuming her, she screamed his name many times as he still thrusted into her a few more times. He followed moments later, his body rigid, his breathing heavy, as he spilled himself deep into her. He kept her pinned against the table as he caught his breath. The scent of their climax hung heavy in the air, a potent mix of sweat and satisfaction. Her legs felt weak, but she made no move to change the position.

After a few ragged breaths, he pushed himself up slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, still inside her. His eyes, until now so sharp and calculating, were softened by post-coital haze. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.

"So", he murmured, his voice low, "about that punishment… wanna take the ropes and go to the bedroom?"

Chapter Text

Every. Single. Time. It was this shit.

It had turned into a predictable, though no less infuriating, ritual: Ekko finding new ways to make her life miserable. Not that she needed any help with that, she did a perfectly good job of ruining it herself, thank you very much.

Whether it was clashing with her during budget allocation meetings, nitpicking every flaw in her proposal for new lab equipment, or oh-so-“innocently” suggesting that she help organize one of the school’s idiotic little events, he always found a way to wedge himself into her path. Which, frankly, suited her just fine. She’d started playing the same game, arguing that the mechanics class could totally reuse old parts and didn’t need new ones, and wouldn’t you look at that! Since he was so brilliant at building things, maybe he could whip up some science fair booths— on weekends.

But this time, he’d gone too far. Now he wanted her to be a freaking chaperone for one of the weekend field trips. Her, of all people! The woman most allergic to “fresh air” in the entire school. And, to top it off, it was on the same damn day the new season of her favorite series was dropping. Just freaking perfect.

The worst part? Every single one of his not-so-subtle attempts to throw her off, designed specifically to push her from mildly uncomfortable to outright humiliated, were always perceived as harmless suggestions from the beloved professor . That was the kicker. He was everybody’s favorite golden boy, but only ever treated her like this. And somehow, that wicked grin of his always got him what he wanted, all the time. She had no idea what she’d done to deserve it, if she’d even done anything at all. As far as she was concerned, they hated each other. Mutual loathing.

Her only small, delicious victory came when principal Heimerdinger suggested he should tag along too. Something about “ his experience as a scout leader being useful ”. The look on Ekko’s face had been absolutely priceless.

“Good morning”, he greeted her sweetly on that cursed Saturday morning, as they gathered the students by the buses and started loading backpacks and supplies into the compartments below.

“Go to hell”, she snapped, tossing her oversized backpack with a satisfying thud, completely disregarding his annoyingly meticulous organization system, as a response, he rolled his eyes.

She caught the motion out of the corner of her eye, lazy and practiced, like he was too used to her rage to even be fazed by it anymore. The smug tilt of his mouth just made her fingers twitch. God, she hated that smirk. Hated how he always looked like he was two steps ahead in some private joke where she was the punchline.

"Nice to see you in such a radiant mood", he said, voice as dry as her patience, stepping aside to let another wave of teenagers crash by in a sea of loud voices and way-too-large backpacks. “Are you always this sunny before 9 a.m., or am I just special?”

“Special like a concussion”, she shot back without missing a beat, flashing a fake smile that didn’t even try to reach her eyes, arms crossed so tight across her chest she could almost bruise herself. Anything to stop from throwing something at him. Preferably something heavy. 

He didn’t even flinch. Just leaned against the bus like he belonged there, like the whole world was some kind of lounge he’d been invited to and she was the one screwing up the vibe. “I mean, if this is how you treat people who offer polite greetings, no wonder your lab requests keep getting turned down”

That one hit a sore spot. Jinx felt something sharp twist in her gut. Okay! So maybe she didn’t have the greatest people skills. Especially not when it came to asking for things. Because asking meant pretending to be soft, or likable, or, gods forbid, polite. She wasn’t one to pretend anything to get something in return, she was direct and blunt like a punch. Still, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, so, being like this was difficult for her.

“Oh right, and your little critiques have nothing to do with that”, she snapped. Her voice came out more venom than volume. “Do me a favor, Scout Boy . You don’t talk to me, I don’t talk to you. I go to one end of the bus, you go to the other. Minimal contact, got it?”

Before he could fire back, the driver yelled something about leaving in five—thank every deity she didn’t believe in— and she took the chance to spin on her heel and stomp toward the bus door. Just walked past him, shoulder ramming into his with the kind of force that could almost pass for accidental.

Inside, the bus was chaos. No, more like a fricking warzone. Bags everywhere, teenagers shouting over one another, some already neck-deep in snacks and gossip. The sound around them was of chips already crunching and secrets spilling like candy out of a busted piñata. 

Front seats for teachers? Hell yeah, perfect, she thought, but then stopped it and grumbled. Of course, because the universe had it out for her, the empty seat next to hers was the one he slid into like he owned the damn thing. She saw the grin twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was enjoying this. Amused by the fact that the one thing she’d just asked for, no interaction, no contact, no him, was now impossible. They’d have more than just minimal contact. Great. She turned her head slowly, giving him a glare that could strip paint. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me”

Rolling her eyes so hard it physically hurt , she snapped her body toward the window seat. Maybe if she focused hard enough on the blur of trees and pavement, she could forget he was breathing next to her. Or the bus would crash. Honestly, she was good with either outcome.

“Relax”, he said, low enough that it nearly brushed her skin. “It’s just a weekend”

Wordless, she pulled her phone and earbuds from her jacket pocket, eyes locked forward like he didn’t exist, she didn’t even blink. 

“Shut up and don’t talk to me”, she muttered. 

And then shoved the earbuds in like a soldier donning armor, blasting music loud enough to drown him out, and maybe, if she was lucky, everything else too.

The music was so loud, it made a humming go through her ears every time a song ended and silence made space for the next one. I wasn’t just to drown him out, but to drown everything out: the hum of voices, the bounce of the bus over uneven roads, the quiet thrum of her own thoughts crawling under her skin.

Besides, she didn’t want to think about how close he was. Didn’t want to notice the way his elbow kept almost brushing hers every time the bus jolted, or how his leg occasionally knocked against hers like gravity had taken a side. Like the universe was on his team, because, honestly, it always was. 

She shifted, trying to press herself further against the window. Cold glass on her temple. Steady and unfriendly. The bus trundled on, as she scrolled aimlessly through her phone, not reading anything, just trying to look busy and unbothered.

But of course, he didn’t let her have that. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him glance at her screen, just enough to irritate her. She yanked out one earbud. 

“You reading over my shoulder now? Really?”

Ekko looked at her, expression maddeningly unreadable. “Just trying to figure out if you’re rage-scrolling or doom-scrolling”

“Why? Planning to write a paper on it?” 

“Maybe. Could be a good case study”, he smirked.

She huffed and shoved the earbud back in, turning the volume up even higher. But the heat in her face betrayed her. And she knew he saw it. Knew it by the way he leaned back with that insufferable calm, like he’d scored a point in some invisible game. 

Why did he always get under her skin so easily? Why did her heart pick the worst times to betray her like that, fluttering when he wasn’t even being charming. He was Ekko! Goodamit, the one responsible for her working on a Saturday morning.

 And why the fuck did he enjoyed enough to make his life purpose to annoy her?

The bus rattled around a sharp curve, and suddenly the side of her leg was pressed flush against his. She froze, waiting for him to move. He didn’t. And somehow, neither did she.

The silence between songs made her ears hum, a ghost of the bass still buzzing in her bones. It was like her body refused to calm down, even when the music paused. But it wasn’t just the music. 

It was him.

So close she could smell the faint scent of oil and cheap soap clinging to his hoodie, like he’d gotten up too early and still hadn’t woken all the way up. So close that when the bus rocked again, her leg stayed pressed against his. Warm, steady, far too solid to pretend away.

It was a standoff, but neither of them wanted to blink first. Or maybe… neither of them minded it as much as they pretended.

The next song kicked in, something aggressive and fast, and she didn’t even bother pretending to scroll this time. Just sat there, earbuds dangling from her lap, as she turned to glare at him like it might set him on fire.

“You’ve got something to say, Scout ? You’re looking too much”

Ekko tilted his head, that maddening smirk curling his lips like he was enjoying himself a little too much. 

“Nah. Just wondering how someone who hates nature this much still manages to look like they were raised by wolves”

Her eyes narrowed. “Cute. I’ll remember that next time you’re whining about how the vending machine in the teachers room hates you”

“Yes, it does, but I can bear it. At least it doesn’t growl whenever I get near. Unlike some people”

“Oh please”, she scoffed, though her voice caught just slightly at the edge. “You like it when I growl”

That made him pause. Just for a second, but it was enough for her to catch it. The way he looked at her now, head tilted, gaze sharper than before, it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Not really.

“Keep dreaming”, he said finally, voice like dark velvet stretched tight over a grin. “You’re not that cute when you’re angry”

“Oh. So I am sort of cute?”,she shot back, smiling at the way he stumbled for a beat. It was so not like him to be off-balance. And she loved it.

The rest of the trip was just that: a slow, smirking, back-and-forth war of jabs and heat. He made a show of "accidentally" brushing against her whenever he shifted. She retaliated with side-eyes and fake yawns that somehow involved stretching way too close to his space. He’d lean in to ask if she was comfortable; she’d ask if he wanted her to rearrange his face.

It was exhausting and infuriating.

The teachers' cabin was strategically placed between the four others—two for the boys, two for the girls. Of course, in Jinx’s opinion, that didn’t stop anything. If anything, it made things easier for the queer couples to sneak around, but who was she to comment on a trip she hadn’t even wanted to be on?

They split the rooms. In one: Jinx and Gert, the P.E. teacher. In the other: Ekko and Thieram, the biology teacher who looked like he’d break out in hives just thinking about speaking to her.

With a loud sigh, Jinx dropped her bag next to the bed and started chucking her stuff around, and she was more pissed than she expected to be. She wouldn’t be home until Sunday morning. And that sucked. Fieldwork was already a nightmare, but mixing it with work? Double the hell.

“Wow, any louder and someone might ask if you're pissed”, Gert said, half-laughing from where she sat on the bed, scrolling through her phone.

“This is not how I wanted to spend my weekend. Nothing against you, Gert, but…”, Jinx exhaled again dramatically.

“Hey, relax. None taken”, Gert replied, still not looking up. “No one wanted to be here. Honestly, I bet even some of the brats would rather be home playing video games or whatever. It happens”

Jinx crossed her arms and lightly kicked her bag. “This is all thanks to that idiot Ekko. Heimerdinger always cut me some slack. But he just had to suggest it”

“Yeah… about that...”, Gert finally looked up and gave a pointed glance at the closed door, as if to double-check, before turning back to Jinx with that expression. The curious one. The one that made Jinx’s skin itch. “You and Ekko… are you guys, like, hooking up or something?”

Heat surged up her spine, and she swore it was rage. Where the hell had she gotten that idea?

“What the hell, Gert! Of course not! I’d rather drink poison with my morning coffee!”

One brow arched lazily towards her. “No need to go Berseck, Jesus, I was just asking. It’s just– look, you two keep poking at each other like it’s some kind of weird foreplay. I got curious”

Jinx blinked as if she had suggested for her to jump from a building.

“It’s war. It’s open, bloody, psychological warfare, that’s what it is with us”

Gert smirked and resumed checking on her phone again. 

“Sure, if you say so. But if it turns into sex, I want a heads up so I can vacate the cabin”

“You’re insane”

“I’m just observant. I bet you guys will, eventually, fuck. Just don’t do it on my bed”

Jinx groaned and fell on the bed, flinging an arm over her eyes. Her skin was still burning. Stupid cabin. Stupid weekend. Stupid Ekko and his stupid eyes and his stupid smirk and the way he—No. Nope. Not going there. And yet… she could still feel the echo of his voice in her ear. That annoying smile when he plays pretend to be a good guy.

Anyway, none of it mattered. 

She was determined to let the weekend pass as quickly as possible, avoiding him like the plague. She tried to motivate herself by thinking of her bed back home: soft and overstuffed with pillows, a massive projector glowing at her feet with her favorite show, snacks stashed in the cupboard like gold. Yes. That. She’d think about that.

“It’ll go fast”, she whispered under her breath, a mantra she repeated like a spell, willing Sunday to arrive sooner.

Too bad time didn’t give a damn about her, they were a real bitch, actually. Saturday dragged like it had a personal grudge.

 They hadn’t even hit lunch yet and she’d already walked more than she ever wanted to, listened to random teenage gossip, broken up said gossip turning into a full-on shouting match, repeated the lunch hour five times like a broken record, and shut down two too many flirty comments from students who thought they were funnier than they were. 

What a goddamn day. 

And, to make it worse, she was currently standing next to him.  Helping with lunch prep, peeling potatoes with a scowl so hard it could peel her palms alongside the peelings. She really wanted to stab him now. Preferably starting with his jugular.

The damn students were kinda loud too, while they helped in groups a bit afar from them. She muttered curses under her breath, flicking another skin off the board. 

 “Careful”, Ekko said, washing a pot beside her. “You’re gonna stab that poor potato like it’s the responsible for your mental-case”

She didn’t look at him. “Oh, suck it, Ekko. Just wash the damn things”

He chuckled. That stupid, low chuckle that buzzed somewhere behind her ribcage.

“Gotta say, you make kitchen duty feel like a life-or-death mission. Real intense energy you got there”

“Must be the company, it’s making this amazing task really jolly”, she deadpanned, slicing a little too close to her thumb.

“Ah. So I’m the flavor ruining your… whatever sad excuse of a meal you’re doing. Good to know”, pretending to be offended, but he looked more proud than anything else. Jerk.

“You’re the goddamn sad excuse ”, she muttered. “A walking food safety violation”

“Why do you keep standing so close, then? Stick to your lane”

Frozing, the knife mid-air, it wasn’t on purpose. Really. The table was just small. The space was cramped, and the room too warm.

 Still… his arm kept brushing hers.  Still… he leaned just a little too close when reaching for a towel, his breath grazing her ear for a second too long. Still… when she finally did glance at him, his eyes were already on her, amused. Daring. 

“Just stop talking to me and move, I don’t want to turn this lunch into dinner because of you”, she snapped, elbowing him lightly, maybe not that lightly.

“Ow! Did you just flirt with me through violence?”, he rubbed the side of his ribs that had been hit.

“Did you just mistake my will to commit homicide for flirting?”

Leaning in slightly, lips quirked. “With you? Hard to tell”

She didn’t answer. The blood in her cheeks was already betraying her. So instead, she grabbed another potato. This one was rounder and softer, and she stared at it like it might give her peace.

On purpose, he bumped her shoulder as he passed behind her, and it made her knife slip.

“Hey!— look where you’re going!”

“Oh, sorry, thought you were already done, you’re taking so long”, he teased, voice a little too close again. “Careful with that knife. Wouldn’t want to see you bleed all over your rage soup”

She inhaled sharply and nearly threw the potato at his head. But she didn’t. Barely.

“Or maybe it would be better, from what I could gather, you’re not a good cook”

That’s how a potato found its way flying straight to his head.

Lunch was barely edible, because he had to sit right beside her, and play the perfect teacher, while firing jabs at her. 

Afterward, they were dragged into another round of activities with the young demons they were responsible for. Jinx had never hated the outdoors more, and that said a lot, coming from someone who already despised sunshine and fake team-building exercises, even more with other people’s hormonal mistakes.

Even noise, something she usually liked, became unbearable when coming from a swarm of teenagers. At some point, she'd caught herself wishing for silence. That was a new low.

Now, the day was crawling to a close. The sky was turning purplish, bruised and soft at the edges, the air had cooled into something damp and heavy, clinging to her skin. And she was stuck with Ekko. Of course.

Post-curfew meant patrolling for smartass students trying to sneak out, because of course, apparently, teenagers plus nighttime equals dumbass decisions. She didn’t even mind the task, though.  Honestly, creeping around with a flashlight had a certain appeal. 

But Ekko? She did mind him. Ekko, Mr. Gold Star, with his too-clean jacket and too-serious posture, doing everything by the book like they were guarding the freakin’ Louvre. Mr. Let’s-Ruin-Jinx’s-Life.

Hugging herself tighter, the purple puff jacket zipped up to her chin. Every few steps, she muttered something under her breath. Insults, threats, half-baked escape plans. 

“I swear to God, if one more mosquito bit me, I’m burning the forest down….”, she hissed under her breath. Ekko chuckled beside her, which made her glare at him. “Why are you even smiling? Is this fun for you? Being outside, breathing damp air, watching future delinquents sneak off into the bushes?”

“It’s peaceful”, he said, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets.

“Peaceful?!” she echoed with venom. “Wow. You really are broken inside, you need therapy or a better hobby”

Before he could clap back, because of course he would, a rustle came from behind one of the nearby trees. Jinx’s head snapped toward it, and Ekko was already stepping forward with that stupid “teacher voice” of his on standby. They both heard it this time, whispering and giggling. Jinx raised a brow. 

“You thinking raccoons or horny teenagers?”

Ekko sighed  like a man who’d seen far too much. 

“Unfortunately, I’ve been a teacher long enough to know the difference”

He pushed past the branches, and sure enough there they were. Two students, a boy and a girl, mid-embrace. Faces frozen in sheer, pale horror like they’d just been caught by a firing squad.

“Seriously?”, Jinx said, arms still crossed. “You’re in the woods. There are bugs. And raccoons. And me . That’s why you guys ain't going to a top university”

The girl jumped away from the boy so fast she tripped on a root. “S-Sorry, professor! I-I was jus— ”

“Save it”, Jinx said, holding her hand high.

Ekko stepped in, diplomatic as ever, before her sarcasm could escalate into an official trauma. 

“You guys know the rules. Back to your cabins. Now. And don’t even think about sneaking out later, Gert’s taking the next shift, and you know she bites”

The two scrambled away, whispering apologies and bumping into each other like idiots. Jinx watched them disappear, then turned to him. 

“Peaceful, huh?”

Running a hand down his face, he let out a low, awkward chuckle. “Yeah, okay. Maybe not always”

They walked in silence again for a while, the air cool and damp. Only the sound of their shoes against wet leaves and the path ahead lit by the dim lights from the cabins in the distance. 

Jinx’s thoughts swirled like static. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for. Not the cold, not the walking, not the responsibility for hormone-driven nightmares. This wasn’t what she saw when she imagined teaching. Chemical equations, yes. Field trips with Ekko? Hell no.

She threw a glance sideways at him. Why him, of all people? Why did he get under her skin like this? Why did he keep singling her out like she was some kind of personal pet project to torment?

He must’ve felt the daggers she was mentally hurling, because he turned slightly.

“Something you want to share with the class?”, Ekko asked, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“I’m praying for a meteor”

Laughing, he dismissed her with a hand gesture, and that annoyed her even more .

Silence stretched between them for a few more seconds, the kind that vibrated with every step, then, she stopped walking and turned to face him. 

Something in her snapped.

“Why do you hate me?”, she blurted. It was too loud and sudden, sounding too raw. He was so nice to others, like those students breaking rules, she couldn’t know why only her were the hated one. 

He blinked. Like she’d slapped him.

 “I—what?”

“You heard me”, her voice cracked just slightly. “You always act like I’m this annoying thing stuck to the bottom of your shoe. You always have something smart to say, always go out of your way to disagree with me. So just say it. Why do you hate me? What did I do to you?”

Opening his mouth, then closing it again, Ekko exhaled sharply, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

 “I don’t hate you”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Could’ve fooled me”

“I used to”, he admitted, eyes on the ground, glancing up at her after a while, looking her in the eye and rubbing the back of his neck. “Just because… you know… you blow things up”

“Excuse me?”, her brow furrowed. 

He gestured vaguely, as if the memory alone gave him a headache. “The lab. You literally blew up something your first week”

“That was an accident”, she shrugged. “I was testing chemical stabilization with. And,k like okay, yes, fine, it exploded , but the smoke was non-toxic”

Ekko gave her a flat look. “You share a wall with robotics and physics. My classes. I had alarms going off like it was a gas leak, I thought you were going to burn down half the building”

“That was a contained reaction”, she said, squinting at him as if trying to drill scientific reason directly into his skull. Her hands moved midair, shaping imaginary flasks and equations. “A harmless thermal expansion. The only thing hurt was the ceiling paint”

“And my sanity”, he rebuked. “You didn’t even apologise or say what the hell you were doing. And, also, you kind of just did what you wanted. You treated the rest of the staff as annoying colleagues”, she scoffed, folding her arms tight against her chest like a shield. 

 “Well, excuse me for making mistakes while frustrated for being wildly underemployed. You try graduating top of your class, then getting shoved into a high school teaching job after being fired for arguing with your idiot boss, and telling where he could stick his funding cuts. That fucker even stole my work, wich, by the way, was what I was trying to recreate in the lab, but, of course, it just blew in my face”

That surprised him, his brows lifted slightly. She looked away, lips pressing into a tight line, remembering this always put her in a sour mood. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter anymore”

“Well... I don’t hate you now”, he signed.

“Why?”

He looked at her again, softer now. “Because I noticed you’re a good teacher”

She blinked. And blinked again. Was her hearing going bad or something? Was there an echo in her brain? Ekko was complimenting her?

“That’s—”, her voice caught, the words fizzled, unsure if she wanted to laugh, or punch something, or just evaporate into thin air. “Then why?”, she muttered, almost to herself, “why do you still treat me like that?”

Ekko’s lips tugged into that damn smirk again. That infuriating, slanted, slow-building smirk. That familiar, cocky tilt that she had grown to associate with pure evil.

“Because it’s cute when you’re pissed”

Her mouth fell open, as she stared at him, and he winked. She turned around before her brain short-circuited and screamed into the void. Or maybe just into the inside of her jacket. Same thing.

“You what?”

“It’s entertaining”, he said casually, as if discussing the weather. “The way your face scrunches up. That twitchy little glare. Adorable”

What. The. Actual. Hell .

Where did he even get these delusional ideas? How could he think that, and still go out of his way to make her life a bureaucratic nightmare every day? She ought to start hiding the screws and components he left in the hallway. That would teach him a lesson.

“I am not adorable!”, she snapped, outraged.

“You keep saying that”, he called, already walking ahead. “And it keeps being false”

Jinx stood there, fists clenched, mentally summoning every potato she didn’t get to throw at him earlier. Her jaw worked silently as her brain tried to come up with a comeback that wasn’t screaming.

“You coming?”, he called over his shoulder. “Or should I wait until your blood pressure calms down?”

She didn’t answer. Mostly because she was too busy imagining what would happen if she did actually stab him.  And also, very annoyingly, trying not to smile. Then, against her will, against every ounce of common sense she clung to like a raft— one thought slipped through.

“ Shit. Maybe Gert was right and we are flirting or some shit”

Chapter Text

Staring at the paper in front of him, Ekko swirled the amber liquid in his glass with one hand while the other pressed his index finger against his lips. He must’ve been stuck like that for a solid thirty minutes, at least. His eyes scanned the faded cream sheet, its black letters familiar and foreign all at once. Which was ironic, really, considering he had helped choose them.

There was a knot tightening in his chest, a strange mess of frustration, confusion, and something dangerously close to grief. And he had no reason to feel like this. He’d always known this moment would come, had planned for it even, but now he was realizing a part of him had hoped it would come later. Much later. 

When exactly that part of him started existing, he couldn’t say. In the beginning, he had sworn he’d want it to end as soon as possible. His eyes drifted to the top of the page. 

“Declaration for Simplified Divorce”

He exhaled slowly and leaned back in the tall office chair, the leather creaking under the shift of his weight. The workday had long ended, he should’ve been on his way home by now, but the idea of running into her again… or worse, finding the place empty of her presence… made him hesitate.

From beginning to end, she had him wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. He should’ve known nothing about her would be simple.

His mind wandered back to when they first met. One of those polished corporate parties, with a mutual acquaintance introducing them.

He’d been mildly intrigued at first, captivated more by her presence than her words. How she moved like the whole world owed her space, like the room adjusted to her rhythm. Hair dyed in an unapologetic electric blue, nails painted a soft, pink. She was elegance with a twist.

The woman was from the pharmaceutical sector, miles apart from his energy business. That difference had led to hours of conversation, drinks clinking and voices lowering as the night deepened. They’d both admitted it: they didn’t want a relationship. Neither had the time or patience for it, but both had also noticed the same thing: executives with families were climbing faster, being invited into inner circles they couldn’t quite reach alone.

“We should just get married then”, he’d joked.

But she hadn’t laughed.

Maybe it was the champagne or an intrusive little thought that had tiptoed into her head. Either way, her expression shifted, her gaze sharpening.

“Not right away”, she’d said, thoughtful. “Too obvious”

“You’re serious?”, he asked, half teasing, but pressing just enough.

She shrugged, shifting closer on the plush sofa they shared. The motion brought her scent to him, rich, expensive, dangerous. Or maybe he’s just recalling like this because he’s feeling nostalgic

 “Why not?” she said. “We’re business people. Let’s make a sweet deal for both of us”

They had laughed it off, the kind of laugh that lingers more in the air than in memory, and let the moment slide into oblivion like so many other half-drunk jokes at networking events. He hadn’t taken her seriously that night.

It wasn’t until weeks later that the idea resurfaced, more tangible. 

They’d run into each other again, entirely by chance, in a quiet little café tucked between glass towers and tired sidewalks. He was rushing to the office; she, apparently, had just finished her morning run. Her ponytail was messy, cheeks flushed from the cold, and yet her presence remained untouchable, like the world bent just slightly around her edges. 

That day, she was in a sour mood, sharp-tongued, spitting complaints between sips of a lukewarm cappuccino about a promotion she wouldn’t be getting. Not because she wasn’t competent, she was, but because her manager, for the third time, had chosen someone “ with a more stable home life ”. Ekko remembered that ache of recognition, that bitter exhale. He was in the same place. Same stagnation, same silent ceiling.

They had sighed, almost in unison. A moment of shared futility. And then she turned to him with those unsettlingly clear eyes, so blue they could burn, and said, more serious. 

“Maybe we really should get married”, her voice was quieter now, less sarcastic. “What do you say, Ekko? Would you go for a marriage of convenience… with me?”

He met her gaze, and for the first time, it hit him that he could fall into those eyes and never resurface. Maybe he already had.

A small smile pulled at his lips, almost reflexively. He lifted his coffee cup and gently clinked it against hers.

“Well”, he said, “would this count as our first date?”

She laughed, one of those genuine, throat-deep laughs that made people turn their heads in curiosity. “Yes”, she said simply. 

Later, he invited her to dinner. 

It was only in hindsight that he realized they hadn’t talked about themselves. Not really. No birthdays were exchanged, no mention of favorite songs, guilty pleasures, or childhood scars, not even allergies. Just numbers, titles they wished to achieve. project deadlines and how to fit them in their lives together. The language of business, of ambition, fluent to both of them, but hollow in retrospect. 

The entire dinner had felt like a negotiation, and maybe it was. A mutual transaction cloaked in expensive wine and dim lighting. They sat across from each other like two CEOs finalizing a deal. 

By dessert, they were drafting the terms of their union like it was a startup merger: conditions, durations, clauses on discretion, termination plans. No romance. No poetry. They toasted with an overpriced bottle of wine and penciled in the dates of their upcoming “meetings” with the same clinical precision they used for business travel. It had to fit seamlessly into their calendars, after all. Efficiency first.

As Ekko leaned back in his office chair now, he couldn’t stop that flicker of warmth from sneaking into his chest, remembering the way her fingers had looked wrapped around her wine glass, the way she’d leaned in when talking contracts like it was foreplay. As if the negotiation itself was some form of seduction. The way her voice dipped when talking, it always stirred something in him. 

Ekko wasn’t what anyone would call a romantic, mostly because he had no time for it. Every hour outside of work was usually consumed by his side projects, his plans, his grind. But even he had to admit: once they agreed to the act, he played the part like a man possessed. They both knew that for this to work, they’d have to convince the world they were madly in love.

So he followed the script.

He sent her flowers, purple lilies, since she once mentioned she liked their shape. He started picking her up from work, even if it meant rearranging his meetings; and memorized every small, seemingly useless fact she shared, dropping them into conversations like a lover would. He even took her to a baseball game, snapped a photo of her laughing in the stands, and made it his phone’s wallpaper.

People at the office noticed. Of course they did. Scar, his coworker, teased him mercilessly. “You’re such a closet romantic, man”, he’d say. “Mark my words, guys! He’s getting hitched real soon”

Ekko had told her about that over dinner one night, and she had burst into laughter, vibrant and unfiltered, sipping from a colorful detox juice (claimed she ordered that just because she was recovering from drinking too much with her friend the night before).

“Perfect! They’re saying the same thing at my office”, she said with elbows planted on the table, their head nestled into interlocked hands, a wide Cheshire grin spread across lips. “By the way, I want a pink diamond, nothing too shabby either. Don’t you dare give me something tacky, either, just so you know”

He didn’t even think, just grabbed a napkin and gently wiped the corner of her mouth, where her lipstick had smudged from the sandwich she’d just devoured. Her eyes widened slightly at the gesture, caught off guard.

“I wouldn’t give you anything less than you deserve”, he said without flinching.

Two weeks later, without any grand speech or candlelit setting, she walked into his office with a ring on her finger. 

Eighteen carats, solid white gold, deep pink diamonds. Effortlessly absurd, like something out of a magazine. She was giddy on the phone, narrating every reaction she’d received, from shock to envy to the whispered congratulations. She even recited, in great detail, the fake story she’d concocted about how he had proposed, it involved simple things like a bunch of white roses petals covering the floor, a scavenger hunt with dozens of well thought and expensive presents, a serenade with a renowned Brazilian composer, and even a smash room, because “he knew her far too much to know she would like to break something afterwards”. He’d memorized every word of it, just in case. He couldn’t risk contradicting his very grounded “fiancée”.

But it wasn’t her coworkers or the fake proposal that made things hard. It was her sister.

Violet was intense and protective. The kind of woman who saw through bullshit with a glance and made sure everyone knew it. Ekko still remembered the tension of their first dinner with her, Violet sat across the table with her arms crossed, practically radiating suspicion.

“You should’ve asked me”, she said bluntly. “I’m her only family. You don’t just marry someone without talking to their family first”

Swallowing hard, he hadn’t known what to say to that. Since, technically, Violet was right, he didn’t ask or paid any respect whatsoever. It skipped his mind, because none of it was supposed to be real. The worst part? She had taken it personally.

And that was when the woman who had taught him how to walk in sync with a lie turned the whole scene around. Without warning, she reached across the table, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him.

It wasn’t a peck, it was a statement. Soft at first, then deeper and determined. A kiss to prove a point. Ekko felt the world fall away for a second. The sounds of the restaurant, Violet’s shocked scoff, the clatter of silverware, all of it dissolved. There was only the heat of her mouth, the sharp press of her hand against his jaw, the taste of the cocktail she had earlier still lingering on her lips. He hadn’t meant to kiss her back. But somewhere between instinct and surprise, he did. Fully, willingly, utterly.

Perhaps, that… that was the moment he first stopped being just a convincing actor in a well-rehearsed play. That was when he started losing track of the script.

Violet, reluctantly, let it slide. Her exact words were, “If my sister’s happy, then I guess I’m happy too”. Later that night, outside the restaurant, she pulled him aside and muttered an apology for her reaction. awkward and clipped. It had left the air hanging weirdly between them, until he laughed it off and nudged her shoulder.

“Don’t worry”, he said, grinning. “Think of it as practice for the wedding”

After that, things grew easier. They saw Violet a few more times before the ceremony, under more relaxed, less emotionally-charged settings. A couple of beers, a barbecue, semi-formal clothes and backyard laughter. 

One evening, after a few drinks, Vi had finally cracked a smile and said, almost grudgingly, “you know, I actually like you”, then, after a beat, she added, “but if you break my sister’s heart, I’ll kill you”

Well, he doubted that would ever be necessary.

Six months of engagement blurred by, and suddenly (too suddenly) the wedding day arrived. They had chosen a remote countryside estate. Everything smelled like pine and wood polish, the walls and floors glimmering with the golden glow of polished timber. 

Ekko stood in front of an oval mirror in one of the guest rooms, buttoning his dark green blazer. His uncle had just stopped by to hand him a parting gift, his lucky cufflinks: two oval sapphires in silver settings. He’d laughed, joking that they reminded him of “your future wife’s eyes”. Ekko hadn’t been able to stop staring at them since.

 Because they did look like her eyes.  Bright. Fierce. Impossible to forget.

Then three soft knocks on the adjoining door between their rooms. Almost too quiet. But he knew it was her. He felt the nerves tighten around his ribs like wires. God, how had this become real? At what point did they let the lie run this far?

“Ekko?”, her voice, quiet and hesitant, two things she never was, came through the wood. He leaned against his side of the door.

 “Yeah?”

“You’re… gonna be there, right?”

So much uncertainty in her voice, it wasn’t like her, and somehow, that rattled him more than anything else. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “ Eyes on the prize”, he told himself, though he no longer had a clue what the prize actually was.

“I’ll be there”, he said softly, then added, with a forced chuckle, “waiting at the end of the aisle, so don’t be late this time, okay?”

She gave a small laugh back. “Okay… I won’t leave you hanging”

“Hey”, he said quickly, and opened the door just a crack, just enough to slide his hand through. Her hand met his, he felt the warmth, and how shaky and sweaty it was. He wrapped his fingers around hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “We’re in this together, partner”

“Yeah”, she whispered. “Partner”

And just like that, she let go.

Closing the door again, exhaled, and finished dressing. The hallway downstairs stretched endlessly before him, lined with faces: family, old friends, opportunists in tailored suits, colleagues with their polite smiles and curious glances. He kept his head high and wore his best rehearsed grin.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for her.

When he saw her at the other end of the aisle, time slipped. Her hair was tied in a loose, romantic bun, soft strands falling around her cheeks like wisps of breath. The veil was long, sheer, delicate, draped down her shoulders and arms like waterfall silk, catching the sunlight that poured through the old windows.

The dress. God, the dress. Ekko understood her excitement for using it.

It was pure white, with subtle, ruffled layers that flowed like whispers. A bodice that hugged her waist gently, with off-shoulder ruffles dancing over her collarbones. The fabric had a soft, almost vintage charm, yet somehow looked like it had been made just for her. 

In her hands, a bouquet of pale golden blooms and muted pinks, tastefully wild, like something gathered from a garden no one dared to tame. 

And she… she looked like she’d stepped out of a dream he didn’t realize he had.

Something hot burned behind his eyes, while his breath hitched. 

Silco, the old family friend who walked her down the aisle, looked like he was doing everything not to cry, so did half the room. Ekko stood frozen. Not because he wasn’t ready, but because, for the first time, he was starting to think…it didn’t feel like he needed it to force to pretend anymore. Adoring her  came to him more and more naturally each day.

As she reached the altar, time collapsed into stillness. Her fingers, delicate but steady, slipped into his, and for a moment Ekko forgot how to breathe.Then she smiled, just slightly, but enough to shake something loose in his chest and whispered.

“Hey, partner”

He blinked, and swallowed. His voice came out low, rougher than intended.

 “You look beautiful”

Her smile widened, the veil shifting gently with her movement. “You’re handsome too”, she replied, with that lopsided grin that always seemed to knock the air out of him.

The rest blurred. The officiant’s words, the subtle laughter of friends in the front row, the occasional sniffle from someone tearing up behind them. 

Then came the moment. “You may kiss the bride”. His heart stumbled. Hands slightly trembling, he raised one and cupped her cheek, so soft, impossibly real beneath his fingers. Leaning in slowly, lips just a breath away from hers. 

“May I?”, he murmured, barely audible.

She let out a soft, amused laugh, eyes dancing with something unreadable. “Today, you don’t need to ask”

And before he could second-guess, he closed the gap. 

Their lips met in a kiss that was supposed to be convincing, but somewhere between the soft press of her mouth and the hand that curled behind her waist, Ekko forgot they were pretending. It felt like a real passionate kiss, while her hands threaded to the nape of his neck, pulling her body flush against his. Both tried to stifle a low groan of pleasure as they seemed to share the same thought, parting their lips to momentarily savor the taste of the other. 

The guests erupted. Applause, cheers, whistles. The hall practically shook with celebration.

He stepped back slowly, eyes never leaving hers, while fighting the wish to dive in for a second kiss. She looked flushed, radiant, and for a heartbeat, he thought he saw something flicker in her gaze. 

Later, Ekko would say the ceremony had been perfect. The cake was delicious, almond and raspberry, her favorite, with the champagne never stopped flowing. The music was tasteful. Everyone seemed satisfied. Everything unfolded like clockwork, like they had rehearsed it a hundred times.  In many ways, they had. 

And then, it was over.

They slipped into a sleek black limousine, waving to the final guests through tinted windows as the city slipped behind them, and headed upstate, to a luxurious hotel tucked away in the hills. A compromise: four days. That was all either of them could afford to take off work.

But somehow, it was enough. They lived those four days like old friends.

 Eating like royalty, they ordered room service at ungodly hours, drank too much champagne, got tipsy on overpriced wine, giggled like idiots while watching old black-and-white films from under the same blanket. They ignored their phones and emails completely. 

Ignored, too, the tension that curled like smoke between them.

They laughed in bed and slept late, taking turns stealing the covers. And when she fell asleep with her head on his chest, he didn’t move until sunrise.

Could they have slept together? Absolutely. He knew it, and felt it in the way her leg brushed his under the sheets, in the quiet glances they exchanged when they thought the other wasn’t looking. If he’d leaned over that night and asked, she probably would’ve said yes. But he didn’t. Underneath it all, their relationship was a deal, a business transaction wrapped in silk and vows and fake first kisses.

And Ekko… well, Ekko wasn’t sure when pretending had stopped feeling like pretending.  Which meant, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk making it real.

Moving in together had been the next logical step.

A natural progression of the story they had built, one photo and carefully crafted public moment at a time. Their bosses were thrilled, already talking about promotions, friends swooned, with some of them being jealous of their “too perfect relationship”. Violet just said, “about time, you guys are married for God’s sake”. So they picked a place.

It was a corner unit in a luxury building downtown, it had high ceilings, glass walls that spilled sunlight over sleek wooden floors, and a view that made even his breath hitch. Everything in that apartment gleamed. Marble countertops, built-in wine fridge, smart lighting, rainfall shower. The kind of space people posted about, and screamed: Look, they made it.

At first, it was strange. Like living in a lifestyle ad, with everything too perfect, quiet and organized. 

But then life happened. Her shoes started showing up by the door, in uneven pairs, and she stocked the fridge with absurdly expensive ice creams and energy drinks in “dope” bottles, as she said. He found her earrings in the bathroom, one time inside his shaving kit, and she didn’t even apologize, just shrugged and asked if he’d seen her favorite sweater. The dark blue one she likes to pair with her short black skirt. His favorite too, though he’d never said that aloud.

There was loud music when she cooked, varying from hip hop to old jazz classics, and coffee when he woke up. They started watching shows together, one episode a night, always after ten. She’d tuck her legs under her on the couch and lean slightly into him, and he told himself he didn’t notice how warm she was, or how good she smelled, or how the world got very, very quiet when she laughed at something.

And she started wearing silk robes that barely reached mid-thigh, and he swore she did it just to mess with him, since every time she passed by him in the hallway, or leaned close to grab a mug from the top shelf, there was heat. Palpable, pulsing heat. Their shoulders brushed more often, with lingering glances.

Once, while brushing their teeth side by side, she looked at him through the mirror with foam still at the corner of her mouth, and said, voice muffled by the toothbrush, “W e look like a real couple ”. 

He almost dropped the toothpaste, looking at them again, they did . And not just in the mirror, every morning, every night. They looked, moved, breathed like a couple. And sometimes, when her knee bumped his under the dinner table and she didn’t move it away, they felt like one too. 

Ekko didn’t know when the act had stopped being an act. But now, every time she laughed at one of his stupid jokes, or leaned her head on his shoulder when she was tired, or made a joke about "their anniversary," something sharp and dangerous twisted in his chest.They were playing a role, but they were getting dangerously good at it. Too good.

Every time she walked into the room barefoot, hair up, looking like sin wrapped in soft cotton, he had to remind himself, hard, that this was still just a deal. If he forgot, even for a second… he wasn’t sure his heart would survive the fallout.

In the end, he was right. He often found himself melancholically correct when it came to matters of the heart.

It happened a few months ago, she came home from work late, and this time, she didn’t crack a joke at the door. No teasing, no “ what’s for dinner, darling? ” in that mock-sweet voice. She just walked in quiet, almost distracted, and toed off her heels carelessly by the entrance.

“Hey”, he called gently from the couch, sliding off his reading glasses and placing them on the coffee table. The night was chilly, and despite the apartment’s sleek, built-in heating system, the fireplace flickered behind glass more for mood than necessity. She shrugged off her coat and looked at him as though seeing him for the first time, eyes a little unfocused. Then she smiled, that easy, practiced smile that felt a little too polished to be real.

“Of course. Just… long day, y’know?”, she joined him on the sofa.

Small talk followed, light and pointless, he knew she was trying to distract him. He didn’t question it.

Dinner happened in the form of leftovers reheated on plates balanced on their knees. A mindless show played in the background. Wine flowed. One bottle. Two. Three. They weren’t completely drunk. Not really, both were heavyweights when it came to drinking. Just tipsy enough for inhibitions to blur, she called it being “happily buzzed”. 

At some point, she tipped her head back and groaned, giggling.

 “Oh my God. I’m married”, she slapped a palm to her forehead dramatically. “Can you believe that?”

Ekko laughed, his arm slung along the back of the sofa, his head tilted toward the ceiling. “And I’m a married man”, he echoed, with theatrical exhaustion.

“Sometimes I forget”, she said, turning toward him. Her eyes were glassy but bright. “I still feel like a teenager half the time. Even with an important job at a giant company, and the office with a nameplate, the absurd rent and bills to pay. I forget that so easily”, she flung her arms up. “God, I sound ancient. That’s something old people say, right?”

Chuckling softly, he had seen her doing that sometimes. She could swing between boredom, delight, and irritation like flipping switches. And tonight, she was glowing, messy and undone in a way that felt dangerously honest.

“You’re not old”, he said, reaching out instinctively to brush her hair back. His fingers threaded gently through the strands, and she closed her eyes for a moment at the touch.

“You say that ‘cause you’re my age”, she teased, not opening her eyes. “Calling me old means admitting you are too”

She opened her eyes slowly then, gaze locking with his, and before he could think better of it, she leaned in. Her lips found his, soft, warm, tasting faintly of dark berries wine and something sweet that might’ve been longing. It wasn’t a pretend kiss. It was real. Ekko froze for half a second, then gently pulled back, breath catching.
“Wait—wait”, he murmured, thumb brushing against her jaw. “You’re drunk.This ain’t right”

Her brow arched slightly, a crooked smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. “I’m drunk. You’re drunk. We’re both drunk”, she whispered, leaning closer again until her breath danced against his mouth. “But I want you even when I’m sober” 

That single sentence shattered something. At that moment, he already knew they wouldn’ t make it to the bedroom.

Ekko would’ve liked to say that they made love, but that night wasn’t born from tenderness. It was born from tension, from desire so long contained it felt like a dam breaking. In short, they fucked.

First, she kissed him like she had something to prove, like months of flirting, teasing, almosts, and pretending had all led here. Her shirt, followed by her bra, vanished, tossed over the edge of the couch. Between kisses, ragged and breathless, he confessed with a voice hoarse that he’d thought about this more than once (he also, kind of admitting to do it so while touching himself, but at least he wasn’t cheating… if there is something like “cheating” and not breaking a clause in this weird relationship)..

“Oh yeah?”, she asked, half-laughing, her fingers sliding under his sweater. He barely had time to nod before she tugged it over his head, yanking shirt and sweater together and letting them fall with hers on the floor. “What exactly did you imagine?”, she asked, eyes sharp, amused, already trailing kisses along his neck, then down, over his chest and lower still.

His breath hitched. “You. Going down on me”, he admitted, voice nearly a groan.

“Hmm… Naughty boy”, her tone dropped with the words, sultry, deliberate, and then she kissed a trail down his torso, stopping just before his waistband, looking up with wicked eyes as she hooked her finger into the elastic. “You wanna try it for real?”

Swallowing hard, he could only nod, propping himself up on his elbows to watch, because how the hell could he not? It was basically watching his dream come true at this point, since she was the only woman on his mind for months. And then she took him in her mouth while pumping. He didn’t know how he lasted. It had been over two years since he’d touched anyone. The clause in their agreement forbade “external entanglements”, a preventative measure against scandal.

A grunt of complaint escaped him when she stopped, followed by a strange moan, somewhere between pleasure and discomfort, as he felt her squeeze his cock, as to prevent him from cumming. 

“In your fake scenario”, she licked the tip of his penis, still with a tight grip, and his hips bucked forward. “Did I swallow or did it spill it?”

Under any other circumstance, that question would have only brought feelings of abject mortification. Now, however, it made his face burn, his heart thunder in his chest, and the swelling below almost throb.

“You swallowed”

In truth, the image varied. Sometimes, he imagined her drinking every drop, other times, she’d lift her mouth to give him a kiss. He had so many scenarios in his head, God knows when they started appearing, but he knew they were varied and plentiful. He just said whatever came to mind because he was desperate for her to continue.

Smiling, she loosened her grip slightly, guiding his member back to the depths of her throat, using her hands to massage its base and his balls. She was skillful at both, which left him even more breathless and disoriented.

Breath ragged, head spinning, he moaned her name again and again, and just before the wave crashed, he tried to warn her, tried to say something, but the words got swallowed by the release tearing through him. 

“Fuck, you are so good. Drink it all, babe“, with his right hand gently grasping a handful of her hair, almost caressing her as she finished milking him dry, so to speak.

When his vision cleared and the stars behind his eyes faded, she was already sliding onto her knees, straddling him. She reached down and yanked her skirt over her head like it was nothing more than an obstacle.  Seeing no underwear, nothing between them, he swore under his breath. It didn’t even cross his mind she came straight from work like this, not that he cared either way. He’d never seen anything more reckless, or more beautiful.

“Fuck”, she whispered, her voice low and raw, “do you have any idea how much I imagined riding you like this?”

Climbing onto his lap, she was straddling him completely, and he thought maybe she feared he might stop her (she didn’t know he was all in for this ride). 

“Then show me, beautiful”, his voice was ragged with desire. “I’m all yours” 

They both gasped as she sank down on him in one smooth, devastating motion. Her hands gripped his shoulders, while his trembling hands dug into her hips, not to guide her, but to feel. Moving like she knew exactly what she wanted, she clearly didn’t need direction. She took what she wanted, over and over, and he gladly gave it to her, following her demands

As she leaned towards him, her hair falling around them like a curtain, her breath hot on his ear, her hips moving a little too fast for him to register all around him. "In my dream, you always begged"

Meeting her bright and mischievous eyes, he smirked. A laugh, thick with lingering ecstasy and disbelief, rumbled from his chest. 

"Want to hear me beg?"

"Oh, I know you will want to", she purred, her hips beginning a slow, deliberate grind that made him arch into her. The friction was exquisite, building a new, urgent pressure. Ekko's mind, usually a whirlwind of negotiations and business observations, was a blank slate, filled only with her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin against his. This wasn't a fantasy he'd conjured; it was something far more potent, more real, because she was here, demanding, taking, reveling in every raw moment.

He felt the familiar tremor start in his core, the delicious, undeniable pull towards release. This was different from before, a deeper, more profound surrender. When he was close, he felt her stop, her hands trace the lines of his jaw, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. Her gaze was intense, possessive.

"Beg", she commanded, her voice a low growl against his ear.

"P-please" he choked out, 

“Please what?”, fuck, she was so slick and tight around him, that being completely still was pure tourture. 

Licking his lips, he pathetically complies with her fantasies. “Please, let me cum”

The sound ripped from him as she bore down, her movements intensifying, a primal rhythm taking over. He clung to her. This wasn't just physical release; it was an emotional explosion, a breaking of the dam built by two years of imposed restraint, a tacit acknowledgment of the raw, undeniable connection that transcended any 'clause' or 'agreement.' His control fractured, scattering into a thousand glittering pieces as he met her thrusts, his own body answering her unspoken demands. He roared her name again, a testament, an offering, as the world exploded around them.

Undulating her hips with a fierce, demanding rhythm, Ekko devoured her mouth, tasting the sweetness of their shared heat. Then, she pulled back just enough for his gaze to fall to her chest. 

Leaning back, her breasts became more prominent, small and pert with inviting, rosy peaks, perfect to fit in his mouth. Noticing his gaze fixed upon them, she whispered another command: "suck them". He readily obeyed, settling deeper onto the couch. His tongue glided over her left nipple, a delicate exploration, while his fingers gently squeezed the right, making her melt into soft gasps. His teeth gently raking, then sucking, drew a sharp gasp from her. Only when the delicate skin around both were flushed as deeply as their tips did he deem his delicious task complete.

"Touch me more", she gasped, as her hips quickened, almost a plea. Feeling her getting close, again, his fingers instinctively found their way between their bodies, pressing against her most sensitive point. She cried out, her back bowing further, a jolt of pure pleasure rippling through her. He felt her clench around him, once, then twice, as wave after wave of sensation washed over her, each moan a testament to his touch.

"Faster", she demanded, her voice catching as she rose and fell, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. He sped up his fingers, matching her furious pace. The sounds filling the room were loud, her gasps, his ragged breaths, the slick, rhythmic slap of skin filled every corner.

"Yes, exactly like that!", she whimpered, her body convulsing again. He kept his fingers firm on her clit, pushing her higher, past the peak, into another shuddering climax.

Ekko let himself get lost in the rhythm and the sound of her moans tangled with his name, in the heat. In the illusion. The feeling of coming in high with her was sublime.

“We are not done”, she said, her hand on his chin, making him look up at her again. “It wasn’t enough”, and met his lips again. 

A hand found the curve of her buttocks, pulling her even closer until their bodies shuddered against each other, both radiating a feverish heat. Her tongue danced with his, a primal, hungry duet, as Ekko's free hand stroked down the length of her leg, tracing a line.

"Agree", he rasped against her lips, the words tasting of urgent need. 

With a swift, decisive motion, he lifted her, making her wrap both legs around his waist, then shifted, pushing her back until she was sprawled beneath him on the sofa. This time, the pace, the control, would be his. He watched her squirm beneath him in eager anticipation, a thrilling ripple of power surging through him.

Rejoicing the vantage from looking from above, he glanced at her: her eyes, wide and heavy with pleasure; her mouth, stained with remnants of lipstick and parted in a soft invitation; her nipples, aroused and rosy beacons; and the glistening wetness between her thighs. She was perfection. Utter, breathtaking perfection.

"Are you flexible?", he murmured, a hint of challenge in his tone.

A bright laugh escaped her as she stretched one foot, tapping it lightly against his shoulder. "What do you think, my dear husband?"

Grasping both her ankles, he pulled her legs higher, settling them to rest on his shoulders. The angle was sudden, a daring new contortion that exposed her even more, making her gasp. A sharp intake of breath, a sound of surprise mingled with pure, unadulterated excitement. Her hips rose, presenting herself fully, an irresistible invitation.

He plunged into her then, a deep, unhurried thrust that filled her completely. A low, guttural moan vibrated from her, a sound that resonated through his very core, echoing the exquisite stretch and snug embrace he felt. Every inch of her welcomed him, a searing heat that locked them together, she was so tight against him that made him grunt to the small movement. This was it. This was everything he'd been craving, a physical manifestation of the yearning that had consumed his every thought for months. The subtle tremor that ran through her body as he settled deep inside confirmed their mutual surrender, a silent agreement to lose themselves entirely in the moment.

"God, you're going deep", she gasped, her eyes tightly closed against the intensity.

"You weren't taking me in full, love", he rumbled, thrusting again to the absolute hilt. The deep penetration made her squirm anew beneath him, a frantic, almost desperate movement. "You can take it. I'm making good for you, babe", a quiet assertion of his intention to drive them both to the edge, to fulfill every unspoken desire. 

Savoring the feeling of being completely embedded within her, the exquisite friction, the heat that radiated from her core, he started to move more. Every muscle in his body was coiled with anticipation, the sight of her arching body, her face a mask of pure sensation, fueled his relentless rhythm.

Each thrust was a hammer blow, sending ripples of pleasure through her, reflected in the subtle tremors of her body. Her breath hitched, ragged and shallow, as he found a tempo that seemed to speak directly to her desire, igniting every nerve ending. The air in the room grew thick with their combined scent, a heady mix of sweat and arousal, further blurring the lines between reality and their shared fantasy.

"Don't stop, Ekko", she whimpered, her voice barely audible, a fragile thread of sound that spurred him on. He shifted, burying himself deeper, eliciting a guttural cry from her that was pure, unadulterated pleasure. His hands moved from her ankles, tracing the lean line of her thighs, pulling her even closer, if that were possible. He felt the tension coiling in his own body, a delicious ache that promised a long release. The world narrowed to the pulse between them, the raw, carnal dance of their bodies, a desperate craving for more, always more.

A low growl tore from his throat as her body began to spasm around him, an internal clenching that tightened with each furious thrust. A high-pitched cry escaped her lips, quickly dissolving into a broken moan as her hips bucked against his, a final, convulsive grind. He felt her release wash over him, a warm, pulsing wave that squeezed him relentlessly, dragging him over his own edge. With a hoarse shout, Ekko surrendered, his vision blurring, the room spinning into a kaleidoscope of light and sensation. His body arched, every muscle taut as his own wave of pure unadulterated bliss tore through him. 

They collapsed together afterward, breathless, skin sticky with sweat, and fell asleep on the couch, tangled together, her cheek pressed against his chest, his arms wound around her like he’d been holding on too long. Wine glasses sat half-full on the table, and the fireplace glowed low and soft. He didn’t regret it. Not for a second. But something shifted after that night.

At first, it was subtle, hard to name, but it became obvious after some days. She started getting quiet in strange moments, laughing less during breakfast, taking longer to answer his texts, and stayed late at the office more often. She'd touch him in passing, but with a kind of caution, like touching too much would light something on fire.

Still, she was still his partner, playing as his wife, smiling for photos and calling him “ babe ” at company events, which stung. Something was unraveling. And Ekko couldn’t help but wonder if what they’d shared that night was the one thing that had broken the balance they’d so carefully built. Maybe they had let too much truth slip into their beautiful, polished hoax.

Now, Ekko sat in the hollow quiet of his office, staring down at the paper like it had betrayed him. They’d arrived that afternoon, already signed. Her name scribbled at the bottom in elegant, practiced loops.

He stared at the P of her signature, her real name. She had insisted he use only her nickname, even in private, he rarely saw it written out in full. Besides, he noticed she had never changed her surname after they married, she said it was too much work and she still wanted to be herself, which were all valid arguments, but when she said  there was no point, not when it would all end eventually, it made him sad then, but devastated now.

Ekko sighed, long and slow, the sound swallowed by the silence.

So this was it. The closing of a contract. The end of an illusion that had started to feel like the only real thing he’d ever had. 

Drinking the rest of the liquor, in one swift motion he signed the damn thing. No hesitation. He closed the folder with a dull thud , as if that could muffle the ache settling in his chest, then pressed the button on his desk, voice clipped when he asked his assistant to come fetch the papers and deliver them to his lawyer “ as soon as possible” .

When she stepped into the office, Ekko had already turned toward the massive window behind him, pretending to admire the skyline. He didn’t look back. Not even when he heard the folder being taken, or when the door clicked shut again. 

The damn thing felt cursed.

He left work early. Earlier than usual, before the alcohol in his veins made his breath betray him. There wasn’t much in the cabinet anyway, but he didn’t want to walk out of there reeking of whiskey and loss.

By the time he unlocked the front door to the apartment, twilight had turned the city gold and blue. That light used to be his favorite, the golden hour. But tonight, it made everything feel washed-out and unreal. He stepped inside quietly, and froze.

There was a sound, quietly but made it loud in the silence. Not music or TV. A stifled sob .

“Jinx?”, he called, cautiously, for the first time using her name since the papers.

She didn’t answer. He followed the sound toward the bedroom, and there she was. On the floor, clothes pulled from hangers and scattered across the bed in rushed, messy stacks, a suitcase sat open beside her. She was trying to fold a jacket, but her hands were trembling too hard to do it properly. 

The woman clearly didn’t even hear him enter. Not until he was standing in the doorway, eyes locked on her hunched figure. 

“Jinx?”, he repeated, softer this time. Looking up, her eyes were rimmed red, mascara smudged at the corners. Ekko felt his chest tighten.

“What happened?”, he asked. “Why are you— why are you packing?”

For a moment she looked cornered, then she stood abruptly and turned away from him. “Don’t do that”, she said. “Don’t ask like you don’t know what happens now”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”, he stepped in further, the distance between them unbearable now.

“You signed the papers”, it was a statement, not a question. 

“You are the one who sent them”, his voice was colder than a winter breeze. She flinched, and for the first time in a long time, she looked… fragile. Like glass stretched too thin. 

“I thought you’d be happy”, she said, forcing a laugh. “This was always a deal, right?”

His jaw clenched. “Maybe it started that way. But that doesn’t mean it stayed that way. We broke our clause, Jinx, we had sex”

“And so what?!”, she whipped around, eyes blazing. “One broken clause doesn’t  mean anything. Ekko, we had deadlines, meetings to schedule our kisses and a list of do’s and don’ts. You think that’s a marriage, a relationship?”

Staring at her, voice low. “The state does”

“Then the state’s more romantic than both of us”, that hurt more than he cared to admit. She looked down, running a hand through her tangled hair. “Look… the same way marriage was convenient back then… divorce is now”

It felt like being kicked in the gut. 

 “What the hell does that mean?”

“Scar told me”, she said, voice suddenly smaller. “He said the CEO’s daughter has been flirting with you. She’d be a better deal for you”

Ekko blinked, caught somewhere between fury and disbelief. He couldn’t believe the gall. “Scar said what ?”

When he got back to the office, he’d wring Scar’s smug neck with his own damn tie. 

Sure, the boss’s daughter had been hovering around his desk like a fruit fly, whispering nonsense and tossing her hair every time she giggled. He had told her, firmly , that he was married, working the damn ring like armor, still, she kept coming. Some people saw the word “taken” and read it as a challenge. It made his stomach turn.

And although marrying her might fast-track his rise to the top, it would also mark him, make him a pet project. A trophy. And Ekko had never been anyone’s damn trophy. That kind of leash wasn’t worth the ladder.

But none of that seemed to register with the woman standing in front of him now, mascara smudged, heart fraying at the edges. Blinking back tears, she sniffled. 

“There 's also an opening. A new project in France”, he stilled. “They’d never give it to me if I’m still married here”, she went on, voice cracking. “They’d think I won’t go, that I’m tied down. But if I was divorced... it could be mine”

Ekko looked at her. At the woman he used to call “partner” with a smirk, the one he kissed goodnight just to keep up appearances, until it stopped being for show.

“So that’s what this is?”, he asked, barely above a whisper. “You thought if you filed, I’d sign… and you could leave?”

Miserably, Jinx’s face crumpled with guilt. “Wouldn’t you have done the same?” 

He didn’t answer, not immediately. Instead, he crossed the room, slowly. Stopped just inches from her, close enough to smell her perfume and to feel the heat from her skin.

“I would’ve found a way. After all this time, even if we never called it what it was, don’t you know I’d try, for you? You’re the only partner in business and life for me, I know you can feel it too. You and I are the same, we are meant to have it all, by all means, and I would’ve helped you”

“You don’t mean that”, Jinx closed her eyes tightly. As if looking at him hurt. But Ekko wasn’t going to let her run this time.

Gently cupping her cheek, he made her look at him.

“I love you”

The words didn’t shake, unlike her, who sucked in a breath, like she’d been punched. He had rehearsed them silently for months, folded them into late-night glances and the way he’d tuck her hair behind her ear when she fell asleep on his chest, in the way he’d pull a blanket over her legs when she fell asleep during a movie, or brush his fingers along her hairline when she mumbled in her sleep. He thought he had more time, thought she’d wait. Thought love, real love, could afford to be late as he earned the right to say it. But now? Now it felt like he was seconds from losing her.  

“I love you”, he repeated. “Even if we signed on dotted lines saying we couldn’t say this words. Even if we shared a bed pretending not to care. Even if we pretended too damn hard. I do. I love you, Jinx”

Her eyes filled again, lips trembling. And then… she laughed. A cracked, disbelieving sound, raw at the edges. “You idiot”, she whispered, tears slipping freely now amidst her laugh. “Why didn’t you say it sooner?”

“I was waiting for the right moment. I thought it would scare you away if I said it too soon”

Tilting her head, cheek melting further into his palm, her laughter quiet now, private. “And then you picked the moment after we divorce? Bold move, partner ”

“I thought I’d lost you”, thumb stroking her cheek. “That you didn’t want this anymore”

Beneath her long lashes, she looked at him and whispered: “how could I ever not want you?”

His heart squeezed so tight he could barely breathe.

“But, still… It doesn’t change the fact that to move forward, we have to be apart”, Jinx murmured, eyes darkening with sadness.

“Well, technically”, he said, offering a faint smile as his fingers brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re not married anymore. You can still go to France”

Her nose crinkled, her mouth drawn tight like she was holding back words too big to swallow. 

“You’re saying I should?”, there was irritation in her voice and something else. Something that made Ekko’s chest ache with a bittersweet relief, as he realised she wanted him to tell her to stay.

But he couldn’t. Not if he truly loved her. Because love didn’t mean pulling her down. It meant letting her rise. Were he to implore her to stay, to forget everything, to continue their marriage, and for her to give up new projects, she would surely come to resent him. For he, too, was like that, they shared the same nature. Both could only find happiness in pursuing their own desires; after all, that was the basis of their relationship

“I’m saying… you should chase what you want, as you always did”

Although he sounded gentle, her expression faltered. Jinx looked at him the way she used to when they first moved in together, like he was both the safest thing she knew and the scariest. Like loving him would hurt, and maybe it already did.

It was as if she always knew the precise moment to deploy that endearing gaze, her eyes growing larger as she looked up at him, slightly melancholic yet charming enough to evoke a playful, wily cat.

“And what if I want you, too?”

“Then I’ll be there. I’ll find a way, I promise. Later, we could be together, if you let me”

She didn’t answer with words, just stepped into him, arms wrapping tight around his waist, head to his chest. A trembling inhale, like she was trying to breathe him in.

“I don’t want to leave you behind”, she said, voice muffled by his shirt.

“You’re not”, he said softly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re just… leading the way. Like you always do. We did got married because you suggested, afterall”

A soft laugh escaped her, as her grip tightened. Then, after a quiet moment, she mumbled: “We’re divorced”

“We are”, he admitted, carefully trying not to sound like the words carved him open. “But only for now. Next time we get married, it’s going to be real”

He felt he should control his tone and remain hopeful, as if this wasn't the end of the world or the end of them, even though he couldn't help but feel his heart waver. Who would have thought he'd hate not being married anymore?

Jinx leaned back just enough to look up at him, eyes gleaming. “Then the new ring better be bigger and better”

Chuckling, he touches her nose lightly with the tip of his finger. “Of course”

“And the proposal”, she added, licking her lips, smiling teasingly. “I want something huge. Something to really brag about this time”

He tilted her face toward his, resisting the urge to joke that it wouldn’t be hard, since last time, he hadn’t even proposed. But he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Didn’t want to cheapen the truth blooming between them like a second chance. He didn't want to spoil this feeling of continuity, of tangible future plans with her.

So instead, he whispered, “anything for you”

"For the record", she said. "I love you too"

And then he kissed her.

Not like the ones they shared in events, no. He kissed her as he had wanted to at their wedding, as he should have done from the very beginning. The world outside them faded, blurring into a soft hum, as his hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer until no space remained between them. Her fingers threaded into his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepened, a desperate, yearning dance of lips and tongues. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of years of quiet longing finally unleashed. 

Every touch, every breath, every soft sigh was an affirmation of a connection that had always been there, just waiting for this moment to ignite. The taste of her filled his senses, erasing all thoughts of past regrets or future uncertainties. In that passionate embrace, there was only the fierce, exhilarating present, a promise of everything they had both secretly yearned for.

Of course, they had a new script to write now. They’d have to convince her boss that she was single. They’d have to convince their own hearts that they could weather time and distance. Maybe he’d switch divisions, find a position abroad, start moving toward her. 

None of that mattered right now. They were good actors. They’d make it work. 

And though they were technically divorced… Ekko had never felt more taken in his life.

Almost two years later, Ekko found himself at a gala in New York, back on American soil. He’d been living in Dublin for five months now, working on a temporary overseas project, but this international event had summoned him home for a brief and disorienting visit.

At that moment, his gaze was fixed across the room, watching his ex-partner-slash-ex-wife-slash-current-something-girlfriend feign interest in a conversation with a man far too enthusiastic about himself. She had also flown in just for the event. And god, she looked breathtaking.

Her dress clung like a whispered promise. Long, halter-style, open-back, with a fabric so dark it swallowed light, yet shimmered with iridescent threads that caught every motion like stardust dancing in her wake. Her gloves were elbow-length and black, but shimmered too, it looked silky, a little theatrical, like something a starlet would wear in a noir film. And she was that. Tonight, she was cinema. The main actress, the beautiful plot, the aesthetic filming, his muse, his artist, his everything.

The hardest part of pretending they weren’t together? Was pretending not to see her. Especially when she looked like that.

“Damn, man, if I’d known your ex-wife was gonna be here, I would’ve found an excuse for you to skip this thing”, Scar muttered beside him, sipping his cocktail like this was just another Thursday.

Ekko didn’t bother hiding the sigh. Of course they were seated together, since they were part of the same company. He had long since forgiven Scar for the stupid, careless comment he’d made to her, the one that nearly blew everything apart. Water under the bridge now. Especially because they were good. Better than good, solid, even if quietly so.

“It’s fine”, Ekko said, keeping his voice neutral, unbothered. “We run in the same circles. Can’t avoid her forever”

“Still, gotta be rough, seeing her like this”, Scar said, gesturing subtly in her direction. Ekko forced himself to glance over like he hadn’t been watching her for the last ten minutes.

“She’s single”, he replied evenly. “She can do whatever she wants”

Thank god he was such a good liar, because inside, he was already burning, from saying that word and watching her from afar.

It was then he noticed her fingers, graceful and deliberate, reaching behind her back to twist the necklace she wore. He knew what hung there: a pendant shaped like a half-circle, soft waves etched into the metal.

They had melted their wedding bands after the divorce. Her idea, of course. Jinx had turned hers into a pendant, something simple and elegant she could wear against her skin. Ekko had his reshaped into a minimalist earring, a small band with the same wave engraving, worn on his left ear. It had started as a symbol of their silent commitment to one another. But over time, it became their secret language.

Sometimes, when he was being chatted up by someone he didn’t care for and she was watching from across the room, he’d subtly touch the earring and then brush the back of his neck, code for “I’m thinking about kissing you” . Other times, after she brushed past him, he’d lift a finger to his lips and then to his earing— “I want to taste you”.

Jinx would twist the cord around her finger to signal she missed him. But this gesture, tossing the necklace pendant behind her, letting it fall between her shoulder blades,resting at the center of her bare back like a dropped secret, meant only one thing: “I want you to fuck me from behind, later” . 

Somehow, for him, that was romantic. In the middle of a crowded room full of corporate figures and political influencers, with a stranger trying to impress her with champagne and credentials, she was speaking to him. And only him. It was their version of a love letter, written in body language and old habits. His lips twitched upward, almost involuntarily. Not enough to be caught, but enough that Scar might’ve noticed.

“What?”, the man beside him asked, brow raised.

Ekko shook his head, bringing the glass to his lips to hide the smile. “Nothing,” he said quietly. 

But inside? Inside, he was already counting the hours until they could leave this place and meet at a hotel.

Scar turned to say something else, but Ekko was already standing, adjusting the cuff of his suit jacket with careful grace.

“You heading out?”

He nodded, grabbing his glass for show. “Just stretching my legs. The night looks lovely, don’t you think?”

“Right”, Scar said with a small, sympathetic chuckle. “Keep your head up, man”, he raised hi glass to him, and Ekko smiled.

 "Always"

He walked away slowly, weaving through the crowd like he wasn’t chasing a storm. Like he wasn’t already replaying how she’d taste on his lips again. How she’d whisper his name when they were finally alone.

And later, when the ballroom lights faded, and the hotel keycard buzzed green, and the door shut behind them, she’d press him into the wall with that same urgency she always carried beneath her skin. The kind that said: We have waited long enough. And he’d undress her one layer at a time, kissing each new inch of skin like an old promise being honored. She’d bite his shoulder and tell him she hated long flights, and he’d say something about trains being better. 

They’d make love like they didn’t have to hide anymore, even if they still did. And in the quiet that followed, when she rested her head on his chest, when her fingers traced circles near his collarbone like always, he’d fight the urge to reach for the velvet box again (the one he's been carrying everywhere for about a year).

Although, he knew, it was not tonight. Not yet. But soon.

As soon as the lie of divorce stopped serving a purpose, as soon as she stopped needing the distance to grow. He’d ask her again, this time for real. And this time, he knew, she’d say yes with emotion, and love.

Ekko would be fully present at their wedding, he would kiss her like a lover. He would be her husband fully, and not be focused on what their management would like to see. It didn't matter which country they would live in; for the first time, work wasn't his top priority.

The first marriage was for everyone else.

The second would be just theirs.

Chapter Text

Dating Ekko wasn’t easy. 

Then again, she wasn’t exactly a breeze herself. Still, his compulsive need to always be right stretched their arguments into long, exhausting marathons. And that applied to everything, from heated literary debates to soul-splitting fights about where their relationship was going.  Every time she called something out, he turned it into a debate, he just had to dissect it until they were both exhausted.

“You're seeing things, Jinx”

Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no. Wrong answer.

 That was what he said to make everything worse.

This time, the fight was partially about jealousy, hers more precisely, and partially about his infuriating inability to take a clear stand. She had seen it happen. She was right there when that co-worker of his at the movie theater rested a hand on his shoulder and let it glide slowly, deliberately, down his back.

First: there was no reason for her to be that close. Second: this wasn’t the first time the woman had tried to flirt with him, even after he said he had a girlfriend. Apparently, boundaries were optional for her.

“That cunning slut”, Jinx thought, jaw tight. But she didn’t say it. She couldn’t, not unless she wanted to spiral into yet another endless lecture from Ekko about “respect” and “labels” and how she always went too far.

“I’m always seeing things”, she shot back, folding her arms across her chest in that sharp, mocking way of hers. “Because I’ve got eyes, Ekko. You're the one walking around blind”

He exhaled, slow and heavy, dragging a hand across his face like he was wiping the whole conversation off of him. 

They were so different from each other, she was unpredictable, volcanic, and Ekko was stubborn, grounded in his logic like it was gospel. He didn’t scream, not like her, but he had that look. That cool, maddening look that said he knew better, and sometimes, that cut deeper than yelling ever could.

“I didn’t even notice she touched me”, he muttered, voice flat. But inside, things weren’t nearly so composed. That look of his that said I love you, but I wish you'd calm the hell down . But how could she, when she cared this much?

“Why is it so hard for you to just say she crossed the line?”, she asked, her voice quieter now. Raw. “Why do you always defend them?”

“I’m not defending anyone”, he said, softer now too, like her pain had reached somewhere under his skin. “I just… I don’t want to fight about things that don’t matter”

“Oh, but they matter to me, Ekko”, her voice cracked, a fracture she tried to swallow. She hated how fragile it sounded, how exposed it made her feel, but it was too late. He’d seen it.

He opened his mouth, probably to say something reasonable, to explain, again, how things weren’t what she thought. How it didn’t matter. How she was “reading too much into it”.  But she wasn’t, she knew what she saw, she knew how that girl was. The way she laughed a little too loud, leaned a little too close, touched like she owned space that didn’t belong to her. And more than that, she knew how it felt, listening to him saying that to her. 

It felt like being dismissed. Again.

 Like every time she tried to say, hey, that made me feel small , he’d come back with logic and facts and calm tones, like her heart was a math problem.

“She touched you, Ekko”, she said again, quieter now. “And you didn’t even step back. You didn’t even flinch”

Suddenly, the tiny storage room they had ducked into felt like it was closing in. Ekko had literally  dragged her in here, before she could storm across the lobby and rip that girl apart in front of all their coworkers. He’d done it once before, too. That time when the same girl had backed him against the concession counter with her arms, laughing at something he’d clearly not found funny, and he’d given that awkward half-smile, trying to wriggle free without making a scene.

That girl knew exactly what she was doing.  She knew he was too polite, too careful to ever push someone away harshly. Too empathetic, in Jinx’s opinion.

If she ever acted like that with someone in front of him? Ha! He would surely see things too. Last time she’d done something even remotely similar (a classmate had followed her and offered to carry her books), he’d turned passive-aggressive faster than a switchblade and then spent two hours telling her exactly what he thought about it. 

Because they were like that. They butted heads harder than mountain goats. But that was the thing: they fought not just because they were different, but because deep down, they were too alike.

 Neither could let go. Neither could walk away. They talked too much, felt too deeply, argued because silence was more terrifying than the fighting. Which meant they were either laughing until their ribs hurt  or arguing like their world was on fire. No in-between.

Too much communication. Too much love. Too much everything. 

“For someone who always has something to say to me”, she threw, voice sharp like a brick, “you sure know how to keep your mouth shut with her”

She saw it land. The way his eyes narrowed, just a fraction, like it hit hard..

“And what exactly do you expect me to do, Jinx?”, he snapped, finally showing the edge in his voice. “She’s my coworker”

“Then let me deal with her after your shift”, she growled, stepping closer, chin tilted, eyes daring him to stop her.

“Right. Because that’ll solve everything”, he scoffed.

“Maybe not”, she said, voice low. “But it’ll make me feel a hell of a lot better”

The air between them buzzed, they were so close now, breaths mingling, foreheads nearly touching. She hated this. Hated how much she wanted to kiss him when she was this angry, how she still ached for him.

This wasn’t about the girl. Not really. 

It was about them. About her needing to feel chosen. And Ekko? He didn’t get that, not in the way she needed him to. Not when he kept choosing peace over a moment of discomfort that could make her satisfied.

“You don’t get to play neutral when someone disrespects our relationship like that”, she spat, her words cracking through the air like gunfire. “You don’t get to stay polite just because it’s easier for you”

Well, for someone who swore they'd hold their tongue, she was doing a terrible job.

“Oh, and you get to do whatever you want because of that?”, he fired back. “You think storming off and picking fights with people is the solution to everything?”

“No, I think you not doing anything is the problem”, she hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I’m always the one who has to burn just to get a reaction out of you”

“I react”, he growled, grabbing her wrist before she could jab him again. “You just don’t like how I do it”

It was plain in sight how tense he was getting, how he always did whenever she offered her two cents on anything. Yet, he looked at her as if she were the only real thing left in the world. Like he wanted to hold her just to make sure she wouldn’t disappear. Maybe that was why she always felt safe spilling the raw truths of her heart to him, because no matter what, he always looked at her like that. More than that, he seemed to welcome every word she gave him. Sometimes, he even gave them back.

“Oh, you mean with logic and that calm tone like you're everyone's therapist?”, she sneered. “God, Ekko, sometimes I wish you'd just lose it. For once, just fucking feel don’t anylize everything!”

“I do feel! I feel everything! I just don’t explode like you do!”

They were screaming now. Surely, no one would dare enter that room to interrupt such a heated argument.

“Maybe if you exploded once in a while, I wouldn’t have to do it for both of us!”

There it was.  That invisible line they kept toeing, blown to bits now. They were both breathing hard, faces inches apart, this place suddenly was too hot, like the air was thick with every unsaid thing that had finally clawed its way out.

He stared at her, jaw clenched, eyes dark and wild, like he was seeing her fully, finally, and still didn’t know what to do with it. “I hate how you do this”, he said through gritted teeth. “How you twist things until I’m the bad guy for reacting the way you seem fit”

“And I hate how you act like you know better just because you don’t show anything!”, she snapped, voice breaking.

It felt like there was no breathing room, just two hearts slamming against ribs, daring each other to stop first. Jinx felt her throat close up, the sting behind her eyes coming in hard and fast, but she didn’t let it fall. Not in front of him. If she let it her tears come, he might think she would be weaponizing her feelings or some shit, when, in reality, she was just an emotional mess when it came to him.

And then, he kissed her. Not gently or carefully, like their daily school kisses, but a passionate one, like everything between them had detonated and this was the only way to keep from drowning in the fallout. 

Jinx felt his mouth crash into hers, all heat and desperation, one hand fisting in her hair, the other pulling her close like he didn’t know whether to hold her or shake her. She kissed him back with teeth and fire, tasting every ounce of the fight still burning in her chest. Welcoming his tongue, when it pressed against her lip, coaxing her to let in. 

As always, he tasted like something bitter, since he hated sweets, but adored any sour weird candy she gave him. The way his lips and tongue moved wasn’t tender, it was raw. Messy, like a scream turned into contact. 

They broke apart just long enough to breathe, foreheads pressed, eyes closed.

“I don't like when we do this” she whispered, voice trembling, her hands stayed clasped at the back of his neck, fingers curling in the soft hair there, grounding her. He wasn’t holding her tightly anymore, but still steady.

“I know”, he said, lips brushing against her temple, an apology he didn’t quite know how to phrase. “Me too”

Jinx opened her eyes first, gaze tracing the curve of his jaw, the tension still etched into it. Even angry, he looked like home, a frustrating and maddening kind of home, but hers.

“You know”, she muttered, still breathless but regaining her usual bite. “I am still considering throwing her into the trash on my way out”

Ekko let out a soft, tired laugh, and she felt it vibrate against her chest. “You really don’t need to”

“Need, no”, she said, tilting her head, eyes narrowing in mock thoughtfulness. “Want? Deeply. I’m thinking of something poetic, maybe shove her face into a stack of customer comment cards and scream the word ‘boundaries’ until she gets it”

He groaned, amused and exasperated all at once. “Can you please not get me fired?”

“I would never do anything to get you fired”, she said, smirking now. “Just, perhaps, make myself temporarily banned from here”

Ekko pulled back enough to look at her properly, one hand still resting against her jaw, thumb brushing her cheekbone. His eyes were softer now, still serious, but laced with something warmer. 

“Jinx. You can yell at me about it, tell me everything, every single thought in your head. You can fight me, scream at me. But don’t start a war with everyone else because of me. I don’t want to see you upset knowing I’m the root of it” 

Her smirk wavered just a bit. Yeah. Maybe she didn’t have to fight them, but damn, she still wanted to. If that girl didn’t get it the first time Ekko said he had a girlfriend, maybe she needed a full masterclass on “not flirting with other people’s partners” taught by Jinx’s fists.

Still, she let her head drop to his shoulder with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I won’t punch her”

A beat. 

 “Yet”

Ekko gave her a look. “Jinx…That’s not a promise”

“No, it isn’t”, she admitted. “But it’s the best I can do under the circumstances”, she could feel her pouting; His hand slid down her back, pulling her in with something gentler now. 

“I’m sorry”, he said quietly. “I should’ve said something to her, and be more firm. I will”

That caught her off guard, not because she didn’t think he meant it, but because he said it first, without more arguments. She nodded against his shirt, a little breath caught in her chest. 

“Thanks”

And for once, they didn’t need to say anything else. The fight was still there, simmering somewhere beneath the skin, yet, like all the other fights, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the way his arms stayed around her, the steady rhythm of his heart under her cheek, and the fire in her chest softening just enough to stop her from burning it all down.

Well. Almost. 

“ Tomorrow” , she thought with a grin, “ that girl is gonna get a very articulate, very passionate, very Jinx-style lesson in communication”. 

After all, apparently too much communication was kind of her thing.