—TW : Explicit scenes—

Lux's wardrobe seemed like a room of its own, far larger than most of the places Jinx had ever known. The walls were draped in pale silk, and endless rows of shimmering dresses danced under the natural light. Jinx leaned casually against a piece of furniture, her nonchalant posture contrasting with the curiosity in her gaze.

Lux, already dressed in a delicate ivory silk gown, adjusted a necklace in front of a gilded mirror. She turned her head to look at Jinx, still standing motionless. "Come on, try one on," she said with an encouraging smile.

"A dress? Seriously?" Jinx scrunched her nose. "I'd look like a scarecrow dipped in glitter. Not my thing."

Lux shrugged, amused. "You might be surprised. I'm sure you'd look great. It's now or never."

Jinx sighed and crossed her arms, eyeing a midnight-blue gown adorned with silver threads. "Honestly, I've never worn a dress. Not a real one, anyway. Where I come from, dresses were for those who could afford them. Me? I wore whatever I could scavenge."

Lux paused for a moment, her expression softening with understanding. She set down the necklace and walked over gently. "I see. But here, you can choose. We can find one that's just for you."

"Choose, huh?" Jinx chuckled at the idea, brushing her fingers over a dress, the fabric slipping against her rough skin. "You know I'm better at breaking things than picking anything, right?"

Lux smiled, trying to ease her discomfort. "And boys? I'm sure you've turned a few heads, haven't you?"

Jinx burst into laughter, a nervous, uneven sound. "You mean necks? Because that's all I ever break." She shrugged, but her grin faded slightly. She gestured vaguely. "Boys are... complicated. Too complicated."

Lux sat on a stool near Jinx, her gown fanning around her like a cascade of light. "It's complicated for everyone, I think. But... have you ever met someone who, I don't know, made you feel something special?" she asked gently.

Jinx looked away, fidgeting with the frayed hem of her sleeve. "Maybe. Once. But it always goes wrong. Where I'm from, you can't really get close to anyone. It's not... safe." Her voice cracked slightly before she quickly recovered, flashing an ironic smile. "And you? Bet those noble Demacians are lining up to court you."

Lux blushed faintly, a hint of shyness in her gaze. "I... it's complicated for me, too. I'm supposed to represent my family, my responsibilities... it doesn't leave much room for that kind of thing."

"Responsibilities," Jinx repeated, laughing softly, almost bitterly. "You have responsibilities. I've got demons. Nice difference."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the rustling of fabric as Lux adjusted a dress on a mannequin. Jinx, visibly uneasy with the topic, ran a hand through her short hair—a nervous, absent gesture. Her signature braids were gone, and her messy cut seemed to mirror her state of mind.

"And... sex?" Lux asked suddenly, hesitant, her voice barely audible.

Jinx froze, blinking as she stared at Lux before bursting into laughter. "You've got some questions, princess. Not really a priority for me, you know. Too much trouble for too little fun."

Lux blushed deeper, fumbling for words. "I didn't mean... I was just wondering... you see everything so... jaded. Maybe... I don't know, are there things that ever made you happy?"

Jinx shrugged, the sarcasm dropping for a moment. "I guess. But it never lasts. And when it falls apart, it hurts worse than if you'd never had it at all."

Lux nodded quietly, respecting the silence that followed. Then she stood, picked up a flowing black dress, and handed it to Jinx. "Try this one. Just to see. If you want."

Jinx hesitated, grabbed the dress, and held it in front of her like it was a grenade. "If I look like an idiot, you're taking the blame," she said with a smirk.

Lux burst into laughter, and Jinx, despite herself, managed a genuine smile. But deep down, the shadows of their conversation lingered, as tangible as the fabric in her hands.

—Flashback—

The pipes creaked under the pressure of toxic fumes, and the heavy air seemed to press on Ekko's shoulders. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth, the persistent ringing in his ears: it all brought him back to the moment that had just happened. The fight had been brutal, unrestrained. The Firelights had barely escaped an ambush orchestrated by Silco, and Jinx, true to form, had destroyed what she couldn't control, including their meager supplies.

Ekko had managed to separate her from the others, to subdue her. But now they were alone, secluded in an old abandoned industrial building, barely lit by the sickly green glow of Zaun's lamps.

"You're completely insane, Jinx! You know that, right?" he yelled, his voice hoarse.

Jinx leaned against a dirty wall, wiping blood from a gash on her cheek. Her unhinged grin widened, a feral glint in her eyes. "Crazy? Oh, little boy, you ain't seen nothing yet. But go ahead, keep playing hero. Do you really think you can save me? Again? Like before?"

Ekko stepped forward, furious, but he stopped, his fists clenched as she reached into her pockets to pull out Zap, her trusty pistol. Jinx absently played with her gun, her nimble fingers twirling it as if she were holding a harmless toy. Her smile was anything but innocent, and her eyes shone with an almost cruel glint.

"I don't want to save you, Jinx. Not this time. You don't want to be saved. You just want to destroy everything, even yourself."

Jinx's smile faltered for a split second, replaced by an expression Ekko couldn't read, and then she burst out laughing, a hysterical, nervous sound that echoed off the crumbling walls. "You think you know everything, huh? You and your Firelights. You, the kid with his utopian dreams. You don't understand anything, Ekko. Nothing." She aimed at him, but Ekko was quicker, slapping her hand to disarm her. The shock knocked her to the ground, but she burst out laughing again. "Wow, you really want to play tough, huh? It's sexy, you know." Ekko didn't answer right away. Her breath was short, her ribs bruised from their earlier exchange. But more than the physical pain, it was the weight of his words that crushed her. "What, you're not going to say anything?" she snapped, breaking the silence. "Have you really become as annoying as you seem with your group of little birds? Oh, sorry, your Firelights."

— "You have no idea what you're talking about, Jinx," he finally muttered, trying to keep his composure.

She burst out laughing, that high-pitched sound that sounded more like a knife than real mirth.

— "Oh, but yes, I do know exactly what I'm saying." She stood up, closing the distance between them. "You try to play the hero, Ekko. But deep down, you're still that kid who's too weak to protect the ones he loves."

He looked up at her, his dark gaze settling on her features twisted by his sarcastic smile.

— "Shut up."

— "Why? Because I'm right?" She tilted her head, feigning exaggerated reflection. "Tell me, how does it feel to know you never got to save them, huh? Vi, Vander... me? Do you realize that everything you touch ends up falling apart? Do you think your Firelights are different?"

— "Jinx," he warned, his voice dropping to a low growl.

But she wasn't done. She stepped closer, so close that their faces were only inches apart.

— "You're a failure, Ekko. All you have is delusions of grandeur and failures. But the best part is, even if you tried harder..." She gave him a cold smile, each word calculated to cut. "You still would have lost. Because no one, no one ever counted on you to be their hero. Not even me."

The last sentence hit like an explosion.

Before he knew it, her hand was gone. Not a measured blow, but a raw movement, born of the anger and pain she had just awakened in him. Her palm crashed against his cheek, a sharp sound that echoed in the empty room.

Jinx stood still for a moment, her eyes wide, more in surprise than in pain. She raised a hand to her cheek, brushing the spot where he'd hit her.

"Oh," she said finally, her smile slowly spreading, as if she were savoring the reaction she'd provoked. "Now that's interesting."

Ekko, on the other hand, had frozen. His heart was pounding in his chest, a cacophony of regret and rage intertwining inside him.

"You're a fucking coward," he finally whispered, his voice hoarse.

Jinx laughed, a broken, hysterical sound that echoed through the room.

"And you're an idiot," she retorted. "But at least you've still got some of that fire, huh? Maybe you're not so dead inside after all."

"Stop it, Jinx. Stop hiding behind that damn mask. Talk to me, for once."

She turned away to grab her gun from the ground, but he was already grabbing her wrist to stop her. She turned abruptly to him, staring at his embrace, then back at his eyes.

"Talk?" She rolled her eyes, her smile fading as she yanked his arm free. "That's not what you want. You just want the girl I used to be. But she's dead, Ekko. The day I stopped relying on idiots who always let me go."

"Because Silco never will?" he replied, his voice cold. "A guy who manipulates you because he knows you're broken?"

Jinx punched him in the shoulder, then in the chest, but he didn't back down. The blows weren't hard enough to hurt him, but he could feel the desperate anger behind each one. "Silco never gave up on me! Not like her!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Shut up!" she screamed, though she wasn't looking at him. No, she was staring at something to her right, but there was only the wall.

Ekko grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he gently pinned her against the wall. Their breaths were short, their faces so close he could smell the gunpowder on her. The silence between them was almost deafening.

"You think this is easy for me, huh?" he whispered, his voice shaking with a mixture of anger and pain. "You think I haven't regretted every damn day I left you behind?"

Jinx's gaze flickered, a moment of hesitation in her façade. But she answered with a sharp smile, tinged with defiance. "You're right, little savior. You should have let me die."

And then, everything changed. The palpable tension turned into a raw, uncontrollable wave. Ekko released her wrists, but instead of leaving, he stood there, motionless, their gazes connected in a silent war.

It was Jinx who moved first. A sudden, almost aggressive move. Her hands gripped Ekko's collar, pulling him toward her. He faltered for a moment, surprised, but he didn't pull away. Not this time. Their faces were so close that he could feel her rapid, uneven breathing.

She kissed him. It was a desperate act, a mixture of anger, defiance, and need. Her lips crushed his, without gentleness or hesitation, as if she were trying to consume him, to prove that she was still in control.

Ekko froze for a split second, but the surprise gave way to something else. A dull frustration, a pain he'd carried for years, rising to the surface. He kissed her back with equal intensity, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders, hesitating between pushing her away or holding her back. Hesitant to delve into the chaos she embodied.

Their lips met in a messy collision, a mixture of rage, pain, and a desperate need for grounding. It wasn't gentle or thoughtful. It was brutal, almost destructive.

Their movements were clumsy, chaotic, and filled with shared pain. For Jinx, it was a desperate attempt to regain control, to escape her demons, if only for a moment. For Ekko, it was a way to break through the shell she'd built for herself, even if it destroyed him a little more too.

Jinx bit her lip, as if to test his reaction, a provocative smile playing on her face. Ekko pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, her brow furrowed.

— "You think this is a game, Jinx?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, filled with an emotion he couldn't name.

"It's all a game," she replied with a nervous laugh. But her eyes, though arrogant, betrayed a glimmer of uncertainty.

He shook his head, annoyed by her behavior, but unable to break the magnetic bond between them. He kissed her this time, with a firmness that silenced her laughter. It was a different kiss from the first: less impulsive, but just as intense, charged with an anger and desire that they had both tried to repress.

The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the chaos of their emotions, the tension that had been ignored for too long. But even in this stolen intimacy, a question lingered in Ekko's mind: was it really Powder he held in his arms, or simply the shadow she had left behind?

Jinx, her eyes half-closed, felt her heart race under the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips. She knew what she felt—a rage, a frustration, and that lingering pain she carried, far more violent than any blow she had been dealt. But there was something else, too. This desire... this feeling of having lost him, and at the same time, of taking him back in a way that was uniquely hers.

She forced herself not to let it get to her. Jinx's hands closed around the collar of her shirt, and with a sharp tug, she pulled, breaking the fabric as if she wanted to tear something much deeper. The buttons flew, one after the other, hitting the cold floor. The sharp sound of the fabric breaking resonated like a small victory in her mind. She dominated him, she controlled this moment. She forced him to submit to her, to this rage that she could never really externalize otherwise. Domination allowed her to channel this feeling of loss, this anguish that devoured her soul. It was more than just physical manipulation; it was an attempt to punish herself, to say "look what you did to me, look what you took away from me."

But Ekko, even under the impact of his impulsive gesture, did not give in. His hands slid from Jinx's face to grab her roughly by the neck, firmly, just enough for her to feel the warmth of his palm against her skin, forcing her to raise her chin. She felt like she was caught in a whirlwind of contradictions. He was holding her. He was hurting her, but in a way that was almost... protective. It was as if he was pushing her to feel everything she had wanted to repress. The tension in the air became almost palpable, a mixture of frustration and desire. He did not look at her with hatred, but with something more complex, as if he wanted to understand, but could not grasp this Jinx he had once known.

Her fingers trembled slightly around his neck, he felt her pulse beating against his skin, a frantic rhythm, a vibration that, paradoxically, calms and excites him. It was an intimate, powerful, but also confusing contact. Every shiver Jinx gave his grip told him he wasn't the only one suffering from this emotional whirlwind, that what they shared went far beyond simple desire. It was wilder than that. He felt her warmth, her breathing quicken, and it intoxicated him, pushed him to go further, to mark her even more. He knew what she was trying to do, and somewhere, it hurt him. Not in the physical sense. But in that part of him that wanted to protect her, to save her from this chaos she was creating around her.

She might not have changed. Not really. But he didn't know how to reach her, how to bring her back to herself. Ekko felt a shiver run through her, a sign that, despite the pain he might be causing her, he was managing to break something in her. He couldn't help but smile, even if it was a bitter smile, like a strange victory in this chaos they were creating together. His lips followed the line of her neck, placing furious kisses there, in love with this rage that he could no longer contain. Each kiss was a mixture of anger and desire, a desperate attempt to revive a memory, to resurrect the Powder he had lost, all the while knowing that it was useless. The pain in his stomach increased as he felt Jinx's body react, tense, release and lose itself in this destructive dance. Jinx closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers clenching around his shirt that she had just torn. She had this need to feel strong, to control. It was all she had left. And yet, everything he did, everything he said, it broke her in a way that she refused to acknowledge. Her emotions were a rough and uncontrollable sea. She had wanted to punish herself by tearing her shirt, but what she couldn't admit was that she was destroying herself.

She was almost suffocating, but instead of giving in, submitting to this physical pressure, something inside her rebelled. She didn't want to be weak, not now. There was no room for fragility, for fear. Through the pain, she defied him again, a spark of defiance in her eyes, a willingness to control even this desperate situation. He might have her by the neck, but she could still influence how he felt. She could still show him that she wasn't a victim here.

Her hands, still shaking with rage, slid down to his chest, fighting against the pressure, but also against the vulnerability that was rising inside her. Domination was all she had. Her fingers closed around the edges of his garment, tearing it further, breaking the last vestiges of his own control. She wasn't here to submit. She wouldn't let him see that. Even while being strangled, she refused to show weakness. Instead, she forced the moment. By tugging at his clothes, she sought to control him, to punish him, while punishing herself. This was her game: the power she assumed by being the aggressor, even in a situation where she was physically dominated. She wanted to show him that she could break him in her own way, while having the illusion that she still had a hold on the situation. She sought to prove to herself that she was never truly vulnerable, even when her body told her otherwise. Despite the pressure on her throat, she managed to whisper, her voice broken but firm, "You think you have me? I'm the only one who decides here." Her bright eyes, injected with rage and confusion, met Ekko's, defying the force he exerted on her. He was her opposite, her mirror of pain and desire, but she, she refused to give in. Not yet.

And then, against all logic, against everything he could have expected of her in this moment of absolute vulnerability, she tensed again, seeking to impose one last test. She didn't want him to think she was submitting. She refused to be held hostage to her own fragility. She would fight for every breath, every thrill of domination. If she couldn't do it with words, she would do it with her body. With a sudden movement, her legs wrapped around his hips, her powerful thighs clinging to him with a sudden pressure, like a trap. She pulled him closer, pressing her body against his with a strength she didn't know she had. Her hands pressed against his chest, pushing and clawing at the shirt at his collar, the fabric tearing under her trembling but determined fingers. She sought to impose her own form of power through this raw contact.

Ekko frowns, his breath quickening in response to her proximity. But instead of kissing him again, as he would have done so easily before, she tilts her head back slightly, a defiant, almost mocking smile on her face. "Do you really think you can break me like that?" His words are soft, but sharp, like a razor's edge laid across a wound. "Do you think you intimidate me?"

The tone is defiant, filled with that arrogance Jinx does so well, even when she's out of breath. Even when he holds her in this position, his hold grows more and more unpleasant. She straightens, tilting her chin up insolently, her gaze defying the inferno burning in Ekko's eyes.

"Is that it, Ekko? Is that all you've got?"

The tension between them increases, but it doesn't waver. Every muscle in her body is tense in a silent but fierce struggle. She wiggles beneath him, moving not to escape, but to disorient him. Her legs tighten further, her ankles wrapping around him with an almost animalistic vigor.

He releases his hold slightly, a moment of hesitation. But she has no intention of being trapped. Her gaze slides down to his throat, where her fingers are still buried, and she smiles wider. "If you want to choke me, Ekko, you're going to have to do better than that."

Her voice is honeyed, sharp. She feels powerful, even with her short breaths. Every move he makes, every moment he holds her beneath him, it's as if he's dragging her deeper into a game where she, and only she, will decide the rules. Even in this vulnerable position, she's the one in control.

He seems to freeze, unsettled by her audacity. Maybe he expected her to collapse under the pressure, but instead she's relentless, not giving up. He feels her warmth, her body tense and resolute, and even though he keeps his grip around her neck, he feels the destabilization that's taking over him.

"So what are you going to do now, Ekko?" Her words are heavy with defiance, but she also knows she's pushing his limits. She could make him even more angry, she could drive him crazy. But that's exactly what she wants. She wants him to lose control, to love her, or to hate her—it doesn't matter. But she's the one who decides.

After Jinx's words and the increasing intensity of the friction between their bodies, Ekko feels a mixture of confusion, raw desire, and frustration. The way she defies his authority, while being so close to him, begins to unsettle his thoughts. He's both disturbed by her audacity and enraged by the feeling of vulnerability that creeps into him. The friction of their bodies, especially with the tightness of her legs around him and the warm touch of her body pressed against his, rekindles his most primal desires. "She wants this... she wants me to lose control, but fuck, me too. She's not the only one who gets to play this game." At that moment, the friction of their bodies becomes almost a punishment and a pleasure at the same time. The touch of her legs around him, the movement of her torso against his, awakens a brutal and uncontrollable desire in him. Suddenly, he grabs her by the wrists, forcing her to bend slightly backwards, while maintaining total control over her body. The scent of her skin, the heat of her body against his, invades him. He wants to mark her, not physically, but by the power he imposes with each movement. He forces her to straighten up a little more, just to show her that he will not bend. His lips find themselves a few millimeters from hers, but before kissing her, he stops for a moment, staring deeply at her, his eyes trying to read hers, to understand if she is ready to go further, or if she is trying to push him away again. His thoughts fight against his instincts. "She is pushing me to break her, but I am the one who will show her who decides." Then, in an unexpected move, he tipped her backwards, but without releasing his hold. He pinned her against the old piece of furniture behind them, a piece of wood that creaked under their weight, her legs still wrapped around him, but this time he had the upper hand. She tried to fight, to free herself, but he held her too tightly, too tightly. His fingers tightened around hers, and he forced her against the piece of furniture behind them, her body inches from his, her breaths mingling. The pressure around her neck finally released, Jinx inhaled sharply, the air burning her lungs after the suffocation. A shiver of fresh air passed through her, but her heart was still beating too fast, too hard. She gasped, her lips quivering, but her gaze remained locked on Ekko's, as fierce and defiant as before. But her legs tightened around him, her hips grinding against his in a mixture of frustration and pent-up desire. She hated what she felt, but she couldn't stop it.

"You really think you can stop me, huh?" she whispered, her voice rough and shaky, her eyes locked with Ekko's. Every word was an attempt to regain control, but beneath that façade, a vulnerability crept in. "You still want me?" Her breath mingled with his, creating a friction that tortured him as much as it did her. His fingers trembled slightly as he held her, as if he were afraid of breaking her. It wasn't just anger burning inside him, but utter confusion. He didn't understand why he felt this way, why she could make him waver so much. "Stop," he whispered, his voice deep, but he knew it wasn't really an order. It was a desperate plea, a need not to give in to this whirlwind of desire and pain. But his hands remained around her wrists, firm, almost like an anchor, as if it was all he could do to keep from losing himself completely in this storm. He stared at her, trying to read her eyes, but he didn't know if it was still her he saw or if the Powder he had known was just a mirage.

Jinx, still in that silent struggle, lifted a leg and put it around his waist, pressing against him. Her lips twitched into a bitter smile, but there was a hint of crack in her movements. He couldn't shake the irony of the situation: just as he wanted to push her away, his body screamed at him not to. There was no escaping this physical response—his body reacting to both the pressure of her legs around him and the friction of their bodies pressed together. He tried to push the sensation away, but it was useless. Heat rises inside him, uncontrollable. Instinct dominates, his muscles tense, his heart beats harder, faster. He can feel this pressure in his pants, which betrays his own desire, and this hold on himself - this need to aspire to more while refusing to give in to the situation. However, this response was not without embarrassment. The fabric of his pants was becoming too tight, and the pressure against his body was beginning to become uncomfortable. A dull, almost contained pain, added to this feeling of desire. He wanted to free himself, to detach himself from this conflicting situation, but it was stronger than him. A part of him, a deeper part, simply wanted to give in to the intensity of the situation and get even closer to her. At the same time, he felt Jinx stiffen against him. The muscles of her legs clenched around him, a subtle but insistent pressure that reinforced the effect of his own body. He felt her tense, her warm skin pressing against his, her nipples hardening slightly beneath the fabric. The gesture, the natural detail, echoed the confusion stirring inside him. She, like him, couldn't ignore what was happening. Yet Jinx didn't express embarrassment or shame. She looked at Ekko, her smirk crooked, a glint of defiance in her eyes.

"Do you really think you're in control of this, Ekko?" she said in a low, almost mocking voice, but full of a strange tension. "You're just another idiot trapped by your own desires. And look, your body betrays your thoughts." Ekko, although suffocated by this reply, couldn't help but react physically, shivering under the pressure of her words. This mixture of humiliation and growing desire was taking shape in his mind. Even though he was the stronger in the situation, everything in his body told him that he was trapped. When he slid his hands along her back, he could feel the softness of her skin, but also the firmness of her curves. Jinx's clothes made it slightly difficult to access her skin, but at the same time, the fabric was thin enough that each movement of his hands was accentuated. Her top, a light, form-fitting garment, offers a slight resistance at first, but leaves room for his hands to brush the warmth of her skin, to feel it through the fabric. It's not a rough friction, but rather a sensation of light "rubbing" against the fabric of her top, which highlights the softness of her body underneath. But as his hands descend, the temptation to go lower, to feel her bare skin, becomes stronger. Ekko realizes that his movements are both a way of testing his limits and of ensuring the proximity he maintains with her. As Ekko gently lifts the bottom of Jinx's top, seeking to brush the softness of her skin, he immediately notices the reaction of her body, an instant hardening, a tension that adds to the already charged atmosphere between them. Jinx tenses under his fingers, a tightening that he, involuntary at first, can clearly feel. Her muscles contracted, but subtly, as if she were trying to free herself from an invisible pressure or contain the explosion of what was playing out between them. Under his fingers, Ekko immediately felt the hardness of Jinx's skin, contrasting with the softness of her fabric against his palm. When he brushed the area of ​​her breast, the response was instantaneous, a small tension that quickly spread under her skin. She felt this pressure, at first as a gentle sensation of heat, then a more marked intensity, almost electric. The fact that she was aware of her own reactivity added a layer of complexity to her sensations. This pleasant tingling quickly transformed into a pain inflicted by the man who pinched her nipples. She did not know how to interpret this sensation, like a fusion of two opposing states, that of pain mingling with pleasure. In fact, she perceived this pain as an intensification of her pleasure, amplifying her emotional state. She was aware of the pain she was experiencing, especially when he hooked her pinky button with his nails, but she gave him some control in this situation that was completely beyond her control.

Jinx had closed her eyes for a second. A second too long. Ekko's white hair was already rubbing against her chin, and his hot breath was blocking the cold air that her now displaced top was letting slide. He had just marked her with his teeth, and not in her neck this time. The pain was much stronger here, and she could only brace herself against it. And involuntarily, Jinx moaned. There too, for a second, the one too long. This brief reaction was accompanied by a certain disdain for herself. She had not been able to ignore it, betraying her deep emotions. She would seem weak in his eyes, again.

He had smiled. She could feel his mouth crushed against her breast deform. She then gave in to an impulse of rebellion to punish herself for having expressed her pleasure orally, but also to punish Ekko for having made her doubt herself. Her fingers brushed the warm skin of her stomach, slowly sliding lower, and yet, each centimeter traveled seemed to charge the atmosphere with a disordered energy. An imperceptible movement of her hand, hesitant at first, then more assertive, slid under Ekko's pants. Going beyond the elastic of his deformed underpants. As she sank into this action, she noticed a change in Ekko's attitude. His breaths, become faster, his body tense, and the quivering under his fingers... She stared at him, short of breath. Her fingers still placed, but without pressure. She sighed, a bitter smile stretching her lips. Her gaze drifts to her hands for a moment, as if trying to understand why she couldn't resist, why her actions seemed so contradictory. When she looks up at Ekko again, there's a challenge in his gaze, but also a hidden kind of fatigue. "If you only knew how... pathetic it is."

She speaks almost to herself, a hint of disgust slipping into her words. But there is something hesitant in her posture, a quiver in the tension she tries to maintain.

As Jinx, with uncontrollable pressure, begins her gesture, Ekko finds himself caught in an emotional tornado that he did not know how to anticipate. Each movement of her hand, each almost brutal contact makes his body vibrate in an imbalance that he is not used to feeling. His mind, still in this gray area of ​​confusion, wavers between anguish and ecstasy. He is trapped, as much by his own desire as by the intensity of this shared moment. His breathing accelerates, almost irregular, and his muscles tense under the pressure, reacting both to the warmth of the blue's thin fingers as well as to her gaze that did not leave him. He almost collapsed, letting himself go in the embrace, as if accepting the impossibility of escaping this situation.

Jinx, her eyes slightly wide, observed Ekko with an almost morbid intensity. There was a subtle hesitation in her gestures, as if she were wondering, deep down, if she really had to go this far. One hand, then the other, had been placed on him, but each movement seemed to resonate with an echo of doubt. Why was she here? Why was she seeking this control that she had never really been able to grasp, even when the world seemed to push her to do so? Jinx's gestures, however abrupt, seemed to want to justify themselves, evaluate themselves, study themselves. She hesitated. One hand then two, but each gesture, each pressure, seemed to come from her own will, as if she were letting herself be carried away, without really understanding why. It was no longer an act of domination, nor an act of submission. It was a whirlwind of uncertainty, a moment when she was trying to understand something deeply buried, something she had never dared to explore.

Ekko's heart beat faster with each movement of Jinx, and he knew he couldn't control everything. Her breaths were irregular, almost panting, escaping from her throat with an intensity he could no longer control. With each movement, with each friction, a broken sound escaped from him, like a thwarted breath, a strangely human noise that mingled with the tense atmosphere. He didn't even try to hide them. These noises – these little moans, these unexpected sighs – slipped between his lips, heavy and laden with the tension that had taken hold of his body. Yet a visceral need to touch her took hold of him, to hold on to what was escaping him, even if all of this seemed strangely to take place under a veil of fragility. In a hasty gesture, his hands found her hair. At first in an attempt to hold himself back, to anchor his fingers in a familiar material to feel that he still had a grip on the situation. It was an instinct, a survival reflex in a world that left him no room to lose himself. But as the intensity rose, his hands, while one still exerted pressure on her braids, became more hesitant. His fingers began to caress her locks of hair, no longer to hold her back, but to find a form of softness in this madness. His fingers slid slowly from the braids to the softness of her hair, a much more tender gesture and filled with gentleness. He was fascinated by the silky texture of her hair, by the way each movement seemed to create a sensual tension, but also a calming. There was no answer to his confusion, just a desperate search for something he could not name. And there, in that strange dance where the lines between control and surrender were blurred, where gestures overlapped with emotions neither of them could quite grasp, there was a truth that slowly emerged. They were lost, but together in that loss. Each searching, without ever really knowing what they were searching for. And in that silent torpor, they were both the solution and the problem, bound together by that tension, that attraction, and that inability to fully understand each other.

But the moment his fingers slid lower, brushing Jinx's skin, he felt a shiver. The warmth of her body contrasted with the coldness of the room, and yet he couldn't free himself from this suffocating feeling. His gestures became more hesitant. He wondered, in the tumult of his thoughts: does this touch her? Does it bother her? His hands sought to understand the curves of her body, but a doubt persisted. Jinx, she felt it. The hesitation in his gestures, the brushing of his fingers, the furtive glances he threw at her, all this did not escape her. The fabric of Jinx's pants, still partially in place, marked the absence of care, of attention. Ekko did not even take the time to remove them completely. This gesture, although simple, was brutal in its haste, in the pressure that accompanied it. He didn't try to peel off the last layers of her clothing, or reveal more of her skin. He didn't have time to think about all that. His hands moved with a clumsy urgency, as if all that mattered was to continue this impulse without reference points. Jinx felt the difference, this lack of gentleness, this imprecision that left a bitter taste in her mouth. The bottom of her pants remained hanging around her thighs, a physical obstacle symbolizing the discomfort of the moment. He didn't take the time to take everything off, he didn't try to see her or explore her like someone who wanted to know her. No. Everything was too fast, too messy. She felt reduced to this simple situation, caught up in the rush of gestures, a situation that lacked the depth she had perhaps hoped for. But she wasn't able to stop, to change anything at this moment. She found herself, once again, in the turmoil of her own desires and those of Ekko, trapped in this spiral of gestures that she did not control.

Far from the pride or triumph he could have hoped for, a strange feeling of confusion invaded him. His eyes fell on the wet glow that marked the moment, an unmistakable sign of Jinx's body's commitment, a response to the act he had initiated. Yet he could not help but wonder: But does she really want this? He froze for a moment, his mind torn between the desire to take her fully and the fear that what was happening between them was not what he thought. He held his swollen member between his fingers at the door of the abyss, holding her ankles with the other. but he chased her away as quickly as she had appeared. After all, his own body was reacting at this moment, there was no room for doubt. Jinx, with her strangely intense gaze, seemed absent and present at the same time. His hands clenched, squeezing her ankles in front of him as he moved closer to her with an almost feverish desire, as if everything had to end there, in this impassioned body-to-body. Without further thought, without further gentleness, he launched into the act with unexpected brutality, tearing the space between them in a hasty movement, as if time were a constraint he had to forget.

Jinx's bent legs, still partially covered, tensed under the pressure of the moment, the fabric of her clothes pulling at her skin. It was not an act of tenderness, but of thoughtless haste, as if getting past this obstacle was the only thing that mattered. The skin that remained covered seemed almost no longer to concern her, swallowed up by the gentle violence of this quest for immediate satisfaction. Confusion reigned in her mind, Ekko's body was nothing more than a mass of heat and pressure that filled her with each back and forth, and she almost wondered, in a final burst of lucidity, if this lack of care, this negligence, was not the real way to lose oneself in the other.

Jinx stifles a groan, halfway between pain and disgust. Her body is tense, almost trembling with the discomfort of the position, and she tenses, her hands mechanically clinging to whatever she can reach. "It... it hurts, damn it," she whispers in a broken voice, barely audible, a mixture of protest and exhaustion. Jinx grits her teeth, her legs hobbled by her pants at mid-thigh, stretched in an uncomfortable position pressed against her, compressed under Ekko's pressure. The position crushed her chest, each breath becoming a struggle to find air space. The broken wood of the furniture under her head pressed painfully against her skull, each movement pushing her further into this makeshift prison. Her throat tightens with each movement of Ekko, a brutal and clumsy friction that tears an unpleasant shiver from her. The friction was harsh, and her own knees, in the clumsy swing, sometimes hit her face. Once, her knee grazed dangerously against his nose, drawing a grimace of pain and a muffled exclamation from him. "Shit, be careful, damn it! You don't need to... to do that like a savage..." she said, more out of reflex than out of any real intention to be heard. Her voice trembled, wavering between a desperate plea and an attempt to maintain some semblance of control over a situation that was completely beyond her control. But he heard nothing. Or rather, he perceived nothing of what she wanted to express. He had only this animal urgency, this imperious tension that made her gestures tremble and clouded her judgment. He was completely immersed in the moment, unable to understand the discomfort evident in her jerky movements. Jinx, out of breath, tried to free herself, or at least to lighten the pressure. She swung a leg more abruptly, a desperate move to regain some semblance of control. But her foot slipped, hitting Ekko square in the jaw with unexpected force. Ekko groaned, flinching slightly from the impact. His hand left one of her ankles to rub at his face, and he let out a curse. "Fuck, Jinx, are you serious? Are you trying to hit me now?" His frustration burst forth in a sudden movement. Ekko almost seemed to wait for a response, but Jinx remained silent. Part of her wanted to spit something sassy, ​​but the other part felt like she had crossed a line she didn't fully understand yet. Gripping her hips with more force than he intended, he spun her onto her stomach, forcing her to lean on her knees and forearms. His hands settled firmly on her shoulders to hold her in place. "You want to play this? Fine. Let's see if you're still moving." " he growls through his teeth. Jinx gasps in surprise, the cold, rough wood beneath her scraping against her skin, and the strain on her shoulders and back is almost unbearable. The pressure on her knees feels different, but the strain on her arms and shoulders only adds another layer of discomfort. She opens her mouth to say something, but the words get stuck in her throat, replaced by a dull anger and a mixture of fatigue and humiliation that threatens to overwhelm her. Jinx, disoriented by this sudden change, tries to straighten up, but her bound legs and the firmness of her hands keep her immobilized. She senses the dull rage in his gestures, but also something more complex, like a hesitation, a tension that he himself doesn't know how to control. She opens her mouth, trying to scream her frustration, but it's only words chopped up by the brunette's sudden movements that pass her lips. "Stop... crushing me like that! Did you think... I was, what, a fucking toy?!" Her voice was broken, but she couldn't look at him in this position, but also because of the brunette's hand on the back of her neck. His fingers dug into her skin, and each movement seemed made to remind her that he had, at that moment, all the power. "If you stopped fidgeting like crazy, things would go better for you, don't you think?" These words made Jinx burst out a short and bitter laugh, an almost painful laugh. She didn't even know if she despised him, or if it was herself that she hated so much. Jinx felt her knees scrape against the rough wood as her pants, still stuck mid-thigh, pulled uncomfortably on her skin, adding to the feeling of being trapped. "You have no idea, do you..." she muttered, almost to herself. She moaned, first in pain, then, unexpectedly, with a note of pleasure. It was a sound she couldn't quite control, and it surprised her as much as it did Ekko. He, on the other hand, seemed to find confirmation in it.

"You like it, huh?" he said, his harsh tone masking a nervousness he didn't want to show.

"What? No, I said—" She cut herself off, a new wave of sensations hitting her. Her breath hitched, and another, higher-pitched moan escaped her lips. Pain, mixed with a pleasure she couldn't understand, clouded her thoughts.

Ekko froze for a split second, uncertain. It wasn't the first time he'd come face to face with this ambiguity in her, this way she had of turning every situation into an indecipherable mix of hostility and desire. Yet what he heard, what he saw in the tiny movements of her body, convinced him that he had to continue.

"Jinx, if it's too much, say it," he said abruptly, but without slowing down. His hands remained firmly gripped by her hips, his breathing becoming heavier.

"Stop talking, you're annoying," she replied in a breathless, almost hoarse voice. But her words rang hollow. She herself didn't know if she wanted him to stop or continue. Each blow, each pressure, brought back memories that she wanted to flee and find at the same time. It was a fight between pain and pleasure, between the control she tried to keep and the abandonment she feared.

A new movement, more abrupt on his part, tore an involuntary cry from her. But this time, he didn't understand. He thought it was a cry of frustration, of protest. His hands, a little too tight, were already drawing marks on her skin.

"Fuck, you keep fidgeting," he growled, visibly irritated. "What do you want me to leave you here?"

Jinx, unable to formulate a coherent response, involuntarily bucked her hips to free herself a little. It was an awkward movement, a reflex, but he felt it as an attempt to resist.

Ekko, hurt in his pride as much as in his interpretation of the situation, reacted instinctively. He pushed her back slightly, just enough to regain control, and forced her to change position. This time, he grabbed her shoulders to straighten her up on his knees, his chest pressed against her.

"Here, don't move," he hissed, his tone more authoritative, but tinged with palpable tension. He wanted to understand, to control the situation, but each move Jinx made seemed to defy him, to push him to the limit.

For Jinx, this new position brought a mixture of relief and new pain. The change of angle, the weight of his body against hers, everything was even more intense. And yet, she felt a familiar and insidious heat rise inside her. It was not pure pleasure. It was more complex, more cloudy.

She let out a prolonged moan, almost a rattle, and bit her lip until it bled to stifle it. But Ekko heard her, and his breathing quickened. He thought he had won, that he had crossed a barrier.

"This is better, huh?" he murmured, like a false victory.

But Jinx, her eyes half-closed, didn't answer right away. She took a deep breath, feeling her own body tremble slightly. The new position offered a respite from the pressure on her legs, but Ekko's proximity, his breath on her neck, kept her on the edge.

"Better?" she finally whispered, her voice hoarse and trembling. "If you call that better..."

She turned her head halfway, just enough to glance over her shoulder at him. Her hair, still plastered to her forehead and cheeks, partially hid her face, but he could read a strange combination of defiance and vulnerability in it.

The expression unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers loosening slightly on her waist, before tightening again. Jinx's moans, though interspersed with grimaces, gave her the impression that she found a form of pleasure in this mixture of pain and apparent submission.

But for Jinx, this pleasure was insidious. Each movement tore a burning sensation from her, almost unbearable, and yet... she didn't want it to stop. It was an internal struggle she knew too well, this inability to separate pain and satisfaction, to dissociate brutality from a certain comfort that she didn't dare name.

She suddenly grabbed her hands at the back of her thighs, trying to stabilize her own body against Ekko's assaults. Her fingers were shaking, but she didn't want to let go. A louder moan escaped her, a hoarse sound that echoed in the room.

Ekko froze for a moment, troubled by this rise in intensity.

"Jinx..." he whispered, as if to check.

She didn't have the strength to respond with anything other than a slight shake of her head, her forehead falling forward. But when she shifted to lean more heavily on his arms, Ekko misinterpreted it as a signal, thinking she was trying to escape or push him away.

His instincts kicked in before he could think: he grabbed her wrists to stop her from moving any further, pulling her body tighter against him. The sudden movement surprised her, and a jolt of pain crossed her face.

"I've got you," he whispered, as much a promise as a warning.

To Jinx, the mixture of control and confusion was both overwhelming and strangely familiar. She released one of his hands to grab his wrist, trying to regain some semblance of balance.

"You're... so lost, Ekko," she breathed, out of breath, a nervous, pained laugh mingling with her words.

Her tone unsettled him again, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

Lost? He was. Those words echoed in his head as he felt his grip waver, both on her and on himself. Everything he thought he controlled crumbled beneath his fingers. Jinx's moans, that hoarse, broken complaint, had electrified him at first, like an instinctive confirmation that he was doing things "right." But that whisper of defiance, that nervous laugh that had escaped her lips, brought him back to a reality he couldn't quite grasp.

He wanted to believe that she wanted him as much as he did, that this tension between them was shared, but he couldn't ignore the little jolts of her body, the tensing of her muscles under his hands, those confused gestures that seemed to be both seeking support and trying to free themselves. Was it really pleasure she was expressing? Or something else?

His breath grew more irregular as he paused, just for a moment, to search his own mind for an answer. But Jinx shifted again, her clumsy movement bringing her back against his chest, as if to adjust her position. Her hand brushed his shoulder, then briefly gripped the back of his neck. The touch, as fleeting as it was, sent a jolt through him that swept away all his thoughts.

"Stop thinking, Ekko," she seemed to tell him without speaking, her breath pressed against his skin.

There was no logic to this moment. It was a chaos where sensations took precedence over everything else. Her hand moved up from his waist to brush his side, searching for a connection, an answer. But when her fingers brushed a more prominent rib, he felt a slight jolt pass through his body. Was it a shiver of pleasure, or a flinch of pain?

"Lost..." he repeated in a hoarse whisper, almost to himself.

He felt trapped in a whirlwind of contradictions. Jinx, with her fragility hidden behind a defiant strength, seemed to be the very embodiment of this confusion. She wasn't saying no. But she wasn't saying yes either. Not really. So he tried to cling to what he thought he understood. The moans, the touch of her hands, that electric tension between their bodies... all of it had to mean something, right?

"Tell me what you want," he breathed in her ear, his voice lower, more tender despite himself.

She didn't answer right away. Her head fell forward slightly, her shoulders rising and falling in time with her labored breathing. Then, in an almost imperceptible whisper, she said,

"Go on."

That simple, almost inaudible word made him continue. He couldn't afford to think any longer. He tightened his grip, his gestures becoming more determined.

But in a corner of his mind, doubt remained. His own regrets, that anger he had let overwhelm him earlier, all of it still hovered, insidious.

"Jinx... If it doesn't go well..." he began, hesitant. She cut him off by turning her head slightly, just enough for him to see a sparkle in her eyes, half mocking, half desperate.

"Shut up, Ekko. Just... do it."

Her tone left no room for discussion. Yet, it wasn't an order filled with confidence, but rather a disguised confession. A way of telling him that she didn't know herself what she felt, what she wanted.

For Ekko, it was the last straw. If he couldn't understand what was going on in her head, then he had to follow his instincts. But those instincts, too, wavered between raw desire and a desperate need to protect her, even from herself.

So, without another word, he gave in to what he believed to be the lesser of two choices: to continue, without thinking, without trying to understand.

Ekko's movements became more frantic, his body reacting to the desire that blinded him, both obsessed with her and tormented by the uncertainty of her intentions. He wanted to satisfy her, but every moan, every tremor of her arms under his hands, brought a whirlwind of incomprehension. Everything was mixed up, a dance of impulses, frustration, and a desperate need to know if she would offer him a sign, a sliver of truth.

Jinx, for her part, let herself be carried away by what he was offering her. Her body wavered between pain and pleasure, each movement becoming a test to overcome. The discomfort of the position, the pain in her legs because of her stuck pants, the pressure of his chest against her back... All of that gradually faded as the more intense sensations took over. But it wasn't pure pleasure, not the kind you'd expect from a moment of shared pleasure. No, it was a disorienting mixture, a fusion between the body that tensed with pain and a mind that let itself be carried away by the moment.

Her hands tightened around his shoulders, her fingers gripping the flesh of his arms tightly, as if she was trying to remind herself that she was still there, that she still had control. But it was difficult to discern whether it was to anchor herself in reality or to free herself from the pain. A part of her felt lost, a little lost in this ocean of contrasting sensations.

He felt every tremor in her, the fragility she could no longer hide. The room was hot, the atmosphere heavy, but the heat they shared was not enough to chase away the palpable tension. This pain in her legs, the angle of her body, she knew this feeling. These men from Silco, older than her, had always placed her in this position, too young to understand but too broken to protest. Each gesture had been calculated, a domination that she had never known how to question. Pleasure, for her, was this: the mixture of humiliation and pain, a misunderstood suffering that she was forced to confuse with something positive. But Ekko, he seemed different. Younger, less sure of himself, but he carried a certain intensity, a kind of burning in every gesture, as if he was too carried away by his own desire to see the discomfort that welled up inside her. She shifted a little, an attempt to free herself from the constraint of her position. But all she managed to do was to provoke a brutal contact between their bodies. The friction between them made an uncontrolled cry of pain and confusion, a kind of animal instinct that burst forth before she could even stop it. She winced, biting her lip to stifle an involuntary moan.

"Fuck," he growled, his breathing ragged as he tried to regain some of his balance. He still held her tightly, but the pain was too much, too brutal. Jinx, in her clumsy attempt to free herself, had caused more harm than good. He winced, trying to regain a more stable position while holding her in his arms. "Do you want to stop?" Jinx, her teeth clenched, didn't answer immediately. Her arms tightened around him, her hand clawing at his shoulders in a gesture that seemed almost more instinctive than intentional. "I... I... no," she breathed between gasps. She struggled to regain control, the confusion between what she wanted and what she was experiencing drowning her. "Fuck, you're a mess, Jinx," he murmured, his tone much calmer than he felt. He was still holding her, but he couldn't figure out if she had caused the pain or if he had done something wrong. He didn't wait any longer. In a hasty motion, he turned her around abruptly, bringing her back to face him. His arms settled under her knees, lifting them slightly as he laid her against the furniture. The bottom of his pants were finally removed, and he found himself between her thighs. It was a movement that, for the first time since the beginning, left a little room for gentleness, for stability. In this new position, he was finally facing her, her thighs open and she, lying against the cold surface of the furniture, her head slightly tilted back, her eyes shifting. "Do you really think I'm just going to let you do that to yourself, put you in a position like that without..." She shrugged, a nervous smile playing on her lips. "You do what you want, Ekko. But you're not me." He stared at her for a moment, disturbed. "You don't know what you're saying," he replied, agitated by the moment, while adjusting his position. "What you feel..."

She shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. "Do you really think I'm lost, Ekko? I know exactly what I feel." Her fingers dug into his shoulders, clawing at his skin with an almost involuntary violence. She felt like she was losing herself with every movement, finding herself in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that she could no longer control.

Her thighs contracted around him, the friction between them intense. She bit her lower lip to stifle an uncontrolled moan, a cry halfway between pleasure and pain. "That's how I know," she said hoarsely, her eyes closed, fighting the humiliation of her own body reacting against her will. "Because this is... all I know."

Ekko looked at her, a realization forming in his mind. This was more than he had first thought. More than just a physical confrontation. This was an inner struggle for her. A fight between what she thought she deserved and what she could still feel. He could see the brokenness in her actions, in the way she tensed beneath him, but also in the moment she pulled him against her, as if she couldn't pull away.

He looked into her eyes, a heavy silence between them. "I... I'm not here to hurt you," he whispered, naked sincerity in his voice. "But you have to let me help you."

Jinx studied him for a moment, her gaze hard and piercing. Ekko's words touched her in a way he could never have anticipated, but it wasn't tenderness that emerged, not understanding. No, it was cold anger, a frustration that bubbled beneath the surface.

"You think that's what I'm here for, huh?" she whispered, her tone making Ekko shiver. "You really think this is going to work?"

Without him being able to react, she moved. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her posture straightening abruptly. In a split second, she was straddling him, her thighs closing around his waist, her arms holding his torso tightly. Ekko's eyes widened, frozen for a moment. He hadn't anticipated this move, this sudden takeover. He felt almost disoriented as she settled in like that, like some kind of defiance incarnate. He swallowed, trying to regain control. But she was the one who was now dictating the situation. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse, his tone a mixture of surprise and confusion. His hands tightened around her hips, trying to hold her back without daring to control her too much. Jinx, her eyes sparkling with defiance, lowered her head slightly, bringing her face closer to his. "You think that makes you important, huh? That you're going to save me, help me?" She breathed on his ear, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "You think you're different, but you're just another guy with a little savior's heart. You're just here to try to fix what's already fucked up." She nibbled gently on his ear, her gaze hard, pure provocation. Ekko tensed under the impact of her words, the burn of her gestures, but he kept his cool, trying not to give in to the violence of the emotions she inspired in him. "You think this is going to scare me? That you're going to get me by spitting your venom?" Ekko replied, trying to regain his own stability in this situation where he had lost control. But Jinx didn't even seem to answer the question. Her gaze slid over him, cold and calculating. "That's what you all do. You want to pretend to be heroes, but in the end, you're just another version of what Silco taught me to know. Maybe even worse." Her words were like thorns, piercing the air between them. A searing pain. Ekko closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a weight on his shoulders, a weight he hadn't wanted to carry. Yet he knew she was right in a way. He wasn't all white, not all black. But right now, he had no choice.

Heart pounding, Ekko made a decision. His hands grabbed her braids, pulling them back with force. Jinx let out a small moan of surprise, but didn't struggle. It was an instinctive gesture, a way for him to regain the upper hand, to remind her that he wasn't a toy, that he wasn't there to be manipulated. He pushed her away abruptly, forcing her to lie on the ground. The shock of his back against the ground made her wince, but she didn't try to defend herself. Ekko positioned himself between her thighs, his gaze burning with contained rage. He stared at her intensely, his voice firm despite the tension that tightened his chest. He wanted to answer her, to tell her that he wasn't here to save her, but something in the way she was looking at him made him hesitate. "I never told you I wanted to save you," he finally whispered, his voice lower, almost a confession. "I just want you to stop destroying yourself. But maybe I'm wrong." She closed her eyes, an expression of frustration mixed with something softer that he couldn't decipher. "What if I did it anyway?" she whispered. "What would you do?" Ekko didn't have time to answer. She moved again, a quick, almost instinctive movement that made Ekko doubt everything. She seized his lips violently, with an urgency he hadn't anticipated. He let himself go for a moment, lost in this mixture of anguish and desire.

The room was filled with chaos. The shards of broken furniture scattered beneath them formed a makeshift nest of jagged wood, their bodies intertwining in a frenzied, brutal dance. Jinx's moans, raw and uncontrolled, echoed through the thick air. She clutched desperately at the rough wood beneath her palms, her nails digging into it, her legs wrapped around him in an instinctive burst. Her cries, occasionally punctuated by nervous laughter, filled the room; they vibrated like an out-of-tune symphony, oscillating between ecstasy and pain. Her body arched with every movement, her head tilting back as her lips exhaled raw, almost primal sounds. Euphoria distorted her features: her grimaces oscillated between ecstasy and pain, her face red with effort and heat. She whispered his name over and over, her voice cracking with intensity. Ekko's raspy whispers mingled with Jinx's broken moans, her voice rising in crescendo as the tension reached an unbearable climax. He reveled in her involuntary reactions: the way she bit her lip to stifle a moan, or the subtle arch her back made when he pressed a little harder. Ekko sped up, almost desperate, his hand clenched on her slender hip, a mixture of pain and elation coursing through his body. He could hear nothing but his own gasps and Jinx's startled cries. His breath was short and ragged, his body acting on pure instinct. She clung to him as if she were going to fall, her hands occasionally brushing the back of his neck, then falling limply to his shoulders. The furniture creaked under their movements, threatening to give way further, adding to the chaos around them.

The peak came like a hurricane: Jinx, her eyes half-closed, arched, she let out a strangled cry, her body shaken by spasms, pressed her hands against her chest, trembling. Ekko joined her in this explosion, a hoarse growl escaping from his throat as everything in him relaxed in an almost painful ecstasy. For a split second, everything stopped. He, motionless for a second that stretched like an eternity, felt a gentle but deceptive warmth invade him, his forehead falling briefly against her shoulder.

Then silence.

Breathless, Ekko slowly opened his eyes, his mind still enveloped by this deceptively gentle warmth. Still on her, he felt his mind empty, flirting with the idea of ​​just staying there, of stroking her hair, of whispering something soft, something human. His fingers instinctively brushed her hip as if to prolong this connection, but what he saw froze him instantly.

His breath caught.

There was blood.

A scarlet, sinister trickle ran down her thighs. The marks of his fingers were deeply embedded in her skin: redness, bruises forming. Reality came back to him like a bucket of ice water. The ragged breaths, Jinx's hair stuck to her face with sweat, the purple marks on her wrists... and the blood. He suddenly remembered her gestures: her hands on his throat, the feverish glint in her eyes when she had whispered "keep going." His breath caught, his gaze fixed on the scarlet streak that stained his thighs, on the bruises that marked his thin skin, on the splinters of wood embedded in his bare flesh. His throat tightened, and a wave of disgust, directed at himself, washed over him.

"What did I do...?" he whispered, the words escaping him in a breath.

Jinx, still lying there, opened her eyes, confused by his sudden stillness. She sought his gaze, but he seemed elsewhere, lost in a void she could not reach.

"Ekko?" she said, her voice trembling, uncertain.

He did not answer. His hands abruptly withdrew from her body, as if she had become hot to the touch. He stepped back, almost stumbling, and straightened up awkwardly. Jinx, still lying there, frowned as she saw him turn away, hastily gathering his clothes.

—No... he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

As he straightened up, he saw new details: a thin scratch on his collarbone, bruises blooming on his thighs, his glassy gaze, lost in a mixture of exhaustion and resignation. His voice rose, more desperate this time:

"You... you're leaving?"

Ekko ran a trembling hand over his face, avoiding looking at her. The image of his own gestures came back to his mind: his hands on her throat, his fingers digging into her flesh, his movements brutal, disordered.

"Sorry..." He pulled on his stockings, trembling, no longer looking at anything, especially not at her.

Jinx's voices floated in the air, almost imperceptible:

"Ekko..." she whispered, the words clinging desperately to her lips.

But he was already gone. She rested her chin on her knees, staring into space. An almost imperceptible laugh escaped her lips, more disillusioned than joyful.

"So, that's it?" she whispered, her voice cracking. Jinx stood there, frozen, her gaze following the door as it closed. A void settled, a coldness that replaced the intense heat of a moment before. Her fingers brushed a mark on her hip, and she burst into a nervous laugh, short and bitter.

The voices returned almost immediately, a mocking chorus that filled the room.

"Did you see the way he looked at you?"

"Like a monster."

"Did you think it was love? You're just a toy."

"Look at you, all broken. He got what he wanted."

She shook her head, pressing her hands to her temples as if to chase away the whispers. But they continued, relentless, wrapping themselves around her mind, pulling her into the darkness.

Her eyes drifted to the shattered piece of furniture beneath her, the shards of wood stained with blood. This chaos. This disaster. What she had become.

---

In the Crownguard manor, Jinx settled herself on the windowsill of Lux's room, her legs crossed and her gaze lost in the Demacian night. She was absently playing with a small toolbox, the one Lux had given her to fix a gadget she had accidentally broken.

A bitter snicker escaped Jinx. Spot, fix, rebuild. Those words echoed ironically in her head. She heard them often from Ekko, the Firelights, and even now, Lux. They all wanted to fix something. She, on the other hand, seemed born to destroy.

The door slowly opened, and Lux ​​appeared, holding two sparkling dresses. "I think we should wear these two to the ball," she said, her tone light and enthusiastic, revealing one light dress and the other dark. For her. Like her.

"How about a potato sack, huh?" Jinx replied with a smirk.

Lux rolled her eyes with a laugh. "You could wear anything and get attention. Trust me, Jinder." She placed a light hand on Jinx's shoulder, but the latter was already jumping and moving back, as if burned. "Sorry..!" Lux answered immediately, understanding that she had perhaps been more abrupt than she imagined. Then, following the silence, she continued, "You know," Lux said hesitantly, "sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who doesn't know you so well. If you ever need... I'm here."

Jinx looked up at her, a mixture of amusement and gratitude in her eyes. But she quickly changed the subject, jumping up and grabbing one of the dresses. "Alright, let's do it! Let's make me a princess, Crownguard. A real hottie."

"A hottie? Anything you like what?" Lux smiled, not pushing further. But she knew that behind the humor and the carefree facade, there were deep wounds that Jinx wasn't ready to share just yet.

"Booom..!"