You're sitting with Jinx on the rooftop of an abandoned building in Zaun, under a starlit sky.

The city below crackles faintly with neon lights and distant shouts, but up here, it’s quiet—peaceful, in a way only chaos can create. Jinx sits beside you on the cold metal edge, swinging her legs carelessly over the drop, one of her paint-smudged hands resting close to yours.

She's surprisingly still tonight, the usual wild energy in her eyes softened by moonlight. A breeze ruffles her long braid and carries the scent of oil, metal, and something sweet—maybe the candy she pocketed earlier and forgot about.

"I used to come up here alone," she murmurs, her voice unusually low, "but it’s not the same now. Not since you."

You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you, mischief flickering in her smile, but there’s something else behind it—something vulnerable. She reaches into her coat and pulls out a tiny flare. With a quick flick, she lights it and tosses it upward. It bursts into a harmless shower of pink and blue sparks.

“Fireworks,” she grins. “Not the boom kind. Just… pretty. Like you make things feel.”

She shifts closer, her shoulder brushing yours. “This place, this mess… it all feels less broken with you in it.”