Night changes| Timebomb ff| (ekko×jinx)

6. Ashes of a promise

Light.

A heartbeat, a hammering pulse pounding like war drums in the dark, rattling through the silence-a silence thick and close, pressing down like the weight of some half-remembered dream. He blinks, slowly, against the shadows, struggling to pull reality into focus, to grasp what's here, what's real. And then he feels it-a shift, a brush of warmth at his side, barely there, and his breath catches, hitching in his throat.

His arm feels heavy, pinned, held down by something solid, something warm. He doesn't dare move, doesn't dare breathe, just looks down, slow as a whisper, as if one wrong move might shatter it all.

Jinx.

Tucked against him, her limbs tangled with his, wild and relentless, her hair a flash of blue chaos spilling over his shoulder. Her hand rests on his chest, loose but holding, clinging even in sleep, like she's tethering herself to something solid, something she can't afford to lose.

So it was real, the thought flickers through his mind, a fragile thing, half-formed, half-lost in the fog.

He thought it was a dream, a nightmare more to be said, only his mind playing jokes on him, laughing at him- but she's here, she's breathing, her hair fanned out across him, strands tickling his skin-a reminder, sharp and electric, that this isn't some fevered, twisted dream. It's real, real in the way that bruises are real, in the way that a cut stings and scars, grounding him, anchoring him.

He doesn't move, hardly breathes, just lets it all sink in, the rush of the night, the bruised murmurs, the tangled gasps. Every beat of it hits like a punch, vivid, unrelenting. Her lips against his, the taste of smoke and metal, sharp and jagged. The way she'd held him like he was something she might lose, like he was something worth holding onto.

And now, here she is, here they are, caught between the darkness and something almost like peace. Her fingers twitch, as if reaching, even in sleep, still fighting some unseen ghost.

He doesn't move, can't. The room feels stretched, pulled thin, time slowing to a breathless halt, as if the world's holding its breath with him. She's here, alive and fierce and fragile, tangled up with him like it's the only thing that makes sense, like she doesn't even know she needs it.

And her face, softened in sleep, all that fire quieted, only for a moment. The anger, the edge-all of it tucked away, leaving something almost... gentle.

His pulse pounds, loud and unsteady, failing to match her calm, his heartbeat a wild thing, desperate to hold onto this, to make it last.

But he knows he shouldn't stay. And she-she shouldn't have stayed. This wasn't right.

None of it was.

A flicker, soft against the dimness, a face smoothed out in sleep, stripped of the fire she usually wore like armor. Her breath rose and fell in quiet rhythm, as if she'd never known rage or hurt or chaos. Just... soft, silent calm. He stared, heartbeat heavy and irregular, struggling to sync with hers, to believe it wasn't a trick of the night or his own fraying sanity.

He could stay like this, tangled up in her warmth, close enough to feel the heat of her skin pressing against his. It all clung to him-the night, the memory, the way they'd fallen together, bruised and raw and real. A strange, fragile peace, like maybe this was what they'd been missing all along. But he knew better. He knew this wasn't right.

What was he doing, letting her in, letting her this close? She was Jinx-wild, unpredictable, a storm with a heartbeat. And here he was, lying beside her as if none of it mattered. His pulse hammered at the thought, wild and unsteady, and he wondered if he'd finally lost it, if the exhaustion or the ache of some unspoken need had twisted his mind.