Fight and Flight (Lux/Jinx)

Chapter 5: Black Paint

Lux was lying stomach-down on her sleeping mat, propped onto her elbows, when she finished her letter.

Lifting pen from paper, she critically perused her words. The Zaunite forces had personnel in charge of checking outgoing letters for sensitive information, and she wanted to ensure that her letter wouldn't be destroyed before it could find its way to her brother. When she was satisfied that her phrasing was acceptably vague, she tucked the parcel carefully in an envelope and sealed it.

After placing the envelope beside her sleeping-mat – she'd drop it in the base's mail-bin in the morning – Lux rolled onto her back, stretched her arms over her head, and glanced toward her flight partner.

Jinx looked much the same as she had on their first night together – much the same, in fact, as she had looked every night since. She was lying on top of her sleeping bag wearing only shorts, her vast tattoos exposed as she frowned over a letter. The only changes in her appearance were the swathe of bandages creeping down one leg of her shorts and the tired glaze in her eyes, which were usually laser-focused even at this late hour.

It had been a long and perilous day. Lux could feel the weight of it yoking her mind, dragging her desires down toward the plush, patched fabric of her sleeping bag and the promise of sleep it offered. Perhaps, by morning, her mind would catch up with the day's excitement, and she'd be able to think about the most terrifying flight of her life and the even more dangerous mission to come without feeling as if her skull were about to overflow.

She wondered if Jinx felt the same way. Maybe Jinx felt better than Lux, since she had more experience with dangerous flights. Or maybe she felt worse, having endured the gawking stares of the other pilots gaping at her injury, and been forced to hear them whispering about her...

"I can't believe the Pilties landed a hit on Jinx..."

"It's Jinx! I thought she was, like, invincible or something..."

"If even SHE can't outfight a Hexplane, we're toast..."

"I heard that she took down one of them... But doesn't she usually take down all of them?"

Jinx hadn't responded to the whispers drifting through the mess hall with her usual bombastic spunk. She'd merely tensed as she sat next to Lux, one hand curled into the hem of Lux's shirt.

Lux curled her own hands, digging her fingernails into the flesh of her palms. She hoped Jinx would have some of her spunk back by morning – she was worried about her.

A good night's sleep will hopefully do us both some good.

"Jinx, is your leg feeling alright? I can grab some aspirin from the supply tent if it might help you sleep better."

"Don't need it. I'm fine."

Jinx's mouth barely moved when she spoke – it seemed as if her body was nearly too tired to form the words at all. All she could do was continue to stare blankly at her paper, a pen held loosely in a half-limp hand.

Lux's eyebrows scrunched down as she was struck by how quiet Jinx's pen had been that evening.

Rolling onto her side for a better look, Lux made quick work of confirming the theory which had popped into her mind: Jinx hadn't written a single word. Her letter-paper was pristine, save for the faintest shadow which suggested a crease. They had to have been working on their letters for about a half-hour; Lux's hadn't been very long, but she'd taken her time thinking over her words. By now, Jinx was usually wrapping up whatever she had to write.

As she took in Jinx's blank stare, Lux wondered, is she even thinking about the letter?

Judging by the lack of change on Jinx's blank face, Lux judged that she was nowhere close to a breakthrough from whatever thoughts had stolen her away. This wasn't like the hyper-focused expression Jinx sometimes got when painting her plane – even then, Jinx had energy. The expression Jinx wore now, bluntly put, was empty enough to be disturbing.