Jinxed | Jinx Arcane Oneshots

Midnight Comfort | ROMANCE

ROMANCE

The cold of the hideout seeped into my bones as I sat in the corner, knees tucked to my chest. My hands wouldn't stop trembling, the scars on my palms aching like they had been freshly cut.

I hated nights like these, where the quiet was loud enough to drown me in my own head. Every whisper of the wind against the cracked windows, every distant creak of machinery in Zaun, was a ghost of what I couldn't let go of.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my breathing to even out. In and out, I told myself. Just in and out. But the tremors wouldn't stop, and the weight pressing down on my chest made it hard to even try.

"Y/N?"

Her voice broke through the noise in my head, sharp and clear. My eyes snapped open, and there she was, standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the faint, flickering light of the workshop behind her. Jinx's blue braids swayed as she tilted her head, her pink eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

"What's going on?" she asked, stepping closer. Her voice was softer now, cautious.

I shook my head, trying to shrink into myself. "It's nothing," I muttered, though my voice betrayed me, cracking on the last word.

"Yeah, that doesn't look like nothing," she said, dropping to her knees in front of me. She wasn't one for personal space, and she closed the distance between us quickly, her sharp eyes darting to my hands. "You're shaking."

"I'm fine," I insisted, but my voice lacked conviction.

Jinx didn't buy it. She never did. "You're a terrible liar," she said bluntly, sitting beside me and leaning back against the wall. "What's going on?"

I hesitated, my hands clutching at the fabric of my pants. The words wouldn't come. How could I explain it? The nightmares, the memories, the way everything felt like it was too much and not enough all at once?

"Nightmare?" she guessed, her voice quieter now. Her gaze softened, though her manic energy didn't completely fade. Jinx was always chaos incarnate, but in moments like these, there was something gentler underneath the madness. Something she rarely showed anyone.

I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to speak. She didn't push me to explain. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing against my shoulder before resting there.

Her touch was surprisingly steady, a sharp contrast to the usual jittery way she moved.

"You're okay now," she murmured. "It's just you and me. No nightmares here."

I wanted to believe her, but the tightness in my chest wouldn't let up. She must have noticed because she shifted closer, her arm wrapping around my shoulders. I stiffened at first, but the warmth of her, her solid presence, was enough to make me relax, if only slightly.

She started tracing small circles on my back with her free hand, her nails lightly scratching through the fabric of my shirt. The repetitive motion was grounding, and slowly, my breathing began to match the rhythm.

"You're the only one who doesn't run away, you know?" I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Jinx paused for a moment, her fingers stilling against my back. Then she let out a soft laugh, not her usual wild cackle but something quieter, more sincere. "Of course," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why would I? Can't exactly blow things up without a little light, can I?"

I let out a weak laugh, leaning into her shoulder. The ache in my chest began to ease, though the weight was still there, stubborn and heavy. Jinx didn't try to fix it. She just stayed there, her arm around me, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on my back.

"I'm serious," she said after a while, her voice softer now. "I don't.. I don't get close to people. Not anymore. But you? You're different. You're mine."

I blinked, her words sinking in slowly. My cheeks flushed, and I turned my head slightly to look at her. She wasn't meeting my gaze, her eyes fixed on some point across the room. Her usual confidence faltered for a moment, her fingers twitching against my back.

"Jinx," I started, but she cut me off.

"I'm not good at this stuff, okay?" she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Feelings and all that. But I mean it. You're the only one who gets it. Who gets me. So, yeah. I wouldn't run. Not from you."

She finally turned to look at me, her pink eyes meeting mine. There was no madness there, no manic energy. Just Jinx, raw and vulnerable. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. Instead, I leaned in, resting my forehead against hers.

Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. Her hand moved from my back to my cheek, her thumb brushing against the corner of my mouth. "I'm right here," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of her words settle over me. The tightness in my chest eased a little more, and for the first time that night, I felt like I could breathe again.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips brushing against my neck in a touch so light I almost thought I imagined it. "I wouldn't run away," she murmured, her voice steady now. "Promise."

My hand moved to her arm, fingers curling around her wrist as I held on, grounding myself in her presence. "I believe you," I said softly. And I did.

For the rest of the night, we stayed like that, tangled together in the corner of the hideout. The nightmares didn't feel so overwhelming anymore, not with her there.