𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 fifteen: deserve it

               ╰┈➤ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

"YOU CAN TAKE A BREAK."

Aviva's voice was soft, almost coaxing, as she watched Jinx hunched over her workbench, sparks flying from some half-finished contraption. Tools scattered like fallen stars around her, Jinx's fingers moved with frantic precision, smudged with grease and gunpowder. She had been muttering to herself for hours about "putting an end to her family," and though Aviva found the statement dramatic—Jinx always did lean toward the theatrical—she wasn't foolish enough to dismiss the weight behind it.

"Can't," Jinx mumbled without looking up, her violet eyes shadowed with exhaustion, her hands trembling ever so slightly.

Aviva sighed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed loosely. She tilted her head, watching as the small girl—Isha, a sweet bundle of chaos they had somehow inherited—darted around the lair. Her laughter echoed off the walls like chimes caught in a breeze, light and airy, filling the dark space with something Aviva hadn't known she was missing.

It wasn't long before Isha disappeared into another room, the sound of her footsteps fading into the distance, leaving the lair quieter than Aviva liked. But the joy lingered, warm and steady, curling around Aviva's chest. This, she thought, this was worth it.

But Jinx... Jinx was still wound too tight, spiraling further into whatever madness was gnawing at her mind. Aviva hated seeing her like this, burning herself down to ashes in pursuit of some unattainable vengeance. And she knew Jinx well enough to know: words alone wouldn't pull her out.

So Aviva smiled, a sly, knowing smile, and stepped forward. If Jinx wouldn't stop for her own sake, perhaps she would for Aviva's.

She slid behind her, slow and deliberate, and placed her hands lightly on Jinx's shoulders, her touch soft but insistent. "You'll burn yourself out," she murmured, her voice like silk, fingers tracing the tension knotted in Jinx's muscles.

Jinx stiffened for a moment, still too focused, but Aviva leaned closer, her breath warm against Jinx's ear, her lips brushing the curve of her neck. "Just a break," she whispered, her tone velvet-smooth, laced with the kind of mischief Jinx could never quite resist. "You work too hard, you know."

Her hands wandered down Jinx's arms, slow and teasing, her fingertips light enough to stir goosebumps. "You deserve a break," she said, letting the words hang in the air, sweet and dangerous.

Jinx's breath hitched, and for the first time in hours, her hands faltered. The tool in her grasp clattered onto the table. She turned her head slightly, her eyes catching Aviva's, the fire behind them flickering into something softer, something fragile.

The silence between them stretched, thick and charged, broken only by the distant laughter of Isha echoing through the lair. The sound faded into the background as Jinx slumped back against the workbench, her breathing ragged, chest heaving not from exertion but from the weight of everything pressing down on her.

Aviva stood close, too close, her golden eyes gleaming with something between worry and resolve. Her fingers, warm and steady, brushed over Jinx's oil-streaked cheek, and the touch was so gentle, so achingly soft, that Jinx stilled, the tension in her body unraveling thread by thread.

"You can't fix everything," Aviva murmured, her voice low, steady. "Not like this."

Jinx didn't respond with words. She leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut, as if that simple act was enough to break her apart. "I don't know how to stop," she whispered, her voice cracking, raw and vulnerable. "I never knew how to stop."

Aviva tilted her head, her hand sliding down to cradle Jinx's jaw. "Then let me stop you."

Jinx opened her eyes, and for a moment, there was nothing but that lingering stare—violet meeting gold, anger dissolving into something softer, something fragile. Without thinking, without hesitation, Aviva closed the distance, her lips brushing against Jinx's in a kiss that was as much a surrender as it was a plea.

The kiss deepened, slow at first, tentative, like testing the edges of something sharp. But it wasn't enough—not for either of them. Jinx's hands found Aviva's waist, gripping tightly, pulling her closer as if she could fuse the broken parts of herself into Aviva's warmth. Their mouths moved together, desperate and messy, the taste of salt from tears mingling between them, the metallic tang of oil and smoke still lingering on Jinx's lips.

Aviva's fingers tangled in Jinx's hair, tugging slightly, earning a soft, shuddering breath from the other girl. Jinx's hands slid up Aviva's back, clutching at her like she might vanish, like letting go wasn't an option. Every kiss, every touch, felt like an unspoken promise: I'm still here. I'm not leaving.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Jinx let herself believe it.

Jinx didn't hesitate this time. She closed the space between them, their mouths meeting again in a kiss that was all heat and desperation, as if every ounce of fear and guilt could be burned away in Aviva's touch. It wasn't gentle; it wasn't supposed to be. It was messy, frantic, their breaths mingling in the space between gasps as hands explored, pulling each other closer, closer—never close enough.

Jinx's fingers tangled in Aviva's hair, pulling just enough to elicit a soft gasp that only fueled the fire. Aviva's hands, steady yet eager, gripped Jinx's waist, sliding up beneath her shirt, her palms pressing into warm skin. It was like they were both trying to memorize each other, as if this moment might be stolen away at any second.

Jinx didn't hesitate this time. She closed the space between them, their mouths crashing together in a kiss that was pure fire—hot, desperate, consuming. It wasn't gentle, because it wasn't supposed to be. Aviva leaned into it, hands threading into Jinx's blue hair, tugging lightly, earning a shuddering breath that only fueled the chaos between them.

Jinx's hands, rough and trembling, slid up Aviva's back before tightening on her waist, pulling her flush against her body. "Closer," she muttered between gasps, as if any distance between them was unbearable. Aviva's breath hitched, her body arching instinctively toward Jinx's touch, every movement deliberate, seeking.

And then, with a low growl, Jinx shifted, her hands gripping Aviva's hips tightly—almost possessively—and with one quick motion, she pulled Aviva onto her lap, straddling her. Aviva let out a soft gasp, her knees settling on either side of Jinx, and for a moment, she could feel the wild, erratic thrum of Jinx's heart against her own.

Jinx's hands didn't stay still. They roamed up to Aviva's waist, her fingers pressing into her sides, squeezing, like she needed to feel every inch of her to believe this was real. "You feel it?" Jinx murmured against Aviva's lips, her voice ragged, strained. "How you're the only thing keeping me from falling apart?"

Aviva cupped Jinx's face, her golden eyes burning with something fierce, defiant, like she was daring Jinx to fall apart because she'd be there to catch her every time. "Then fall," she whispered, her voice steady, resolute, before kissing her again, slower now but no less intense.

The kiss deepened, their mouths moving together in perfect sync—no hesitation, only need. Jinx's hands slid beneath Aviva's shirt, the warmth of her palms searing against bare skin, and Aviva melted into her touch, her head tilting back slightly as Jinx's lips moved down to the curve of her neck, teeth grazing lightly before pressing soft kisses there.

"You drive me insane," Jinx rasped, her hands tightening their grip on Aviva's waist again, her lips ghosting over the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "Can't think straight when you're like this."

"Good," Aviva breathed, her fingers tugging Jinx's head back up, forcing their gazes to lock. Her lips were swollen, her voice low and teasing. "Thinking's overrated anyway."

Jinx huffed a breath that could've been a laugh, but it dissolved into another kiss, deeper this time, desperate. Her fingers dug into Aviva's hips, guiding her closer, needing her near, always closer. For a moment, there was no past, no vengeance, no ghosts of family haunting Jinx's mind—only this. Only them.

"Aviva," Jinx whispered against her lips, her voice cracked, desperate. It wasn't a question, nor a plea. It was simply a name, the only thing that anchored her to the here and now.

Aviva answered with another kiss, slower, but no less intense, her lips soft yet commanding, as if reminding Jinx she wasn't alone in her chaos. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, tasting, teasing, trembling under the weight of everything they didn't say out loud.

But soon the fervor gave way to something softer. Their lips parted just enough to catch a breath, foreheads pressed together as they lingered in the quiet intimacy that followed the storm. Jinx's body trembled slightly, and for a moment, all she could hear was the soft sound of their mingled breathing.

Then, Aviva whispered, barely audible, "Breathe."

Jinx let out a shaky exhale, her fingers still clutching Aviva's sides as if letting go might break the spell. "I don't... I don't deserve this," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of the words, like they were forced from the deepest part of her.

Aviva's fingers traced through Jinx's hair, soothing and sure, her touch grounding. "I'll decide what you deserve," she replied softly, her tone unwavering, lips brushing Jinx's temple. "And I say you deserve this. Me."

Jinx squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in Aviva's shoulder as the tears finally fell, not from despair, but from something that felt terrifyingly like hope. And as Aviva held her, her arms strong and steady, Jinx finally let herself believe—for this moment, at least—that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't beyond saving.

"I CALL THIS ONE SEVIKA."

Aviva's voice echoed playfully through the lair as she gestured toward the massive, snapping plant in the corner. Its thick, twisting vines writhed like living serpents, and its jaw-like petals snapped shut with a loud clack, spraying droplets of dew across the room.

Isha flinched at the sound, her small hands gripping Aviva's leg tightly, her body trembling as she buried her face against Aviva's thigh. She didn't speak—she never did—but the wide-eyed terror written on her face said enough.

Aviva chuckled softly, crouching down to ruffle the girl's hair. "Relax," she said with a grin. "She's not that scary. Just big and dramatic, like the real Sevika." She leaned in closer, her voice a mock whisper. "But don't tell her I said that."

Isha peeked out from behind Aviva, her golden eyes darting nervously toward the snapping plant. It hissed and snapped again, but Aviva remained perfectly at ease, patting the nearest vine like one might pet a loyal dog. "See?" Aviva said soothingly. "Completely harmless... unless I tell her otherwise."

At that, Isha's eyes went wide again, and she gripped Aviva's cloak tighter. Aviva laughed, scooping her up effortlessly. "I'm kidding," she said, though the glint of mischief in her eyes suggested she was enjoying the girl's reaction far too much. "Mostly."

With Isha perched comfortably on her hip, Aviva made her way to the next plant—a scrappy, vine-covered thing with glowing blossoms that pulsed faintly in the dim light. "This one," Aviva said, her tone softening, "is Mylo."

Isha tilted her head, curious now, and reached out cautiously. The glowing flowers swayed gently under her hand but didn't snap or hiss like Sevika's namesake. She traced a petal with her fingertip, her expression caught between wonder and awe.

"Annoying little thing," Aviva continued fondly, "always clinging to whatever it can reach, but it grows on you." She paused, her smile softening. "Just like the real Mylo did."

Isha glanced up at her, curious, but Aviva said nothing more, only shifting her to the other hip as they continued their stroll.

Next, they stopped in front of a smaller, delicate plant with curling, silvery leaves that shimmered faintly. "And this," Aviva said, her voice quieter now, "is Powder."

Isha blinked, tilting her head.

Aviva only smiled faintly, brushing a gentle hand over one of the soft leaves. "Or it used to be," she murmured. "A while ago. I call it Jinx now, she's been wilting however."

They moved on, and soon Aviva stopped in front of a hulking, thorn-covered monstrosity with crimson flowers blooming like blood against its dark leaves. Its thorny vines coiled, snapping at the air like a feral beast.

"And this one," Aviva said with a smirk, "is Celeste. Stubborn, impossible to kill, and an absolute menace if you cross her."

Isha clung a little tighter, though this time her fear was mixed with a fascination she couldn't quite hide.

Aviva turned to her, grinning. "What do you think, little one? Want to name one yourself?"

Isha's eyes lit up, the fear melting away as she nodded eagerly. Aviva set her down, watching as she darted across the room, her steps quick but careful. She stopped in front of a small, scrappy plant with vibrant green leaves and tiny, purple blossoms clustered near its base.

The girl turned to Aviva, pointing excitedly.

Aviva crossed her arms, tilting her head thoughtfully. "That one?" she asked. "Good choice." She crouched down, resting her elbows on her knees. "What should we call it?"

Isha hesitated for a moment, then touched her chest, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt as if trying to communicate something unspoken.

Aviva's smile softened. "You want to name it after yourself?" she guessed. "Isha?"

The girl nodded, beaming, and Aviva laughed softly, reaching out to tousle her hair. "Isha it is," she said, her voice warm. "A perfect name for a perfect little plant."

The plant, as if on cue, unfurled one of its leaves toward Isha, curling gently around her hand. Her face lit up with delight, and she glanced back at Aviva, her smile brighter than any flower in the lair.

For a moment, Aviva just watched her, the weight of their dangerous world falling away. In this small, quiet moment, with Isha's laughter echoing softly, she let herself believe they could have something more than just survival. Something like peace.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒!

Apology chapter also filler before I have to write episode 3 (I don't wanna)