You both find a quiet corner in the chaos, away from the noise and flashing lights. Jinx leans back against a wall, her wild hair falling around her face in messy braids. Her usual manic energy is a little softer here, and she looks at you with that wide-eyed, almost innocent expression.

“Can I get you anything?”

She says it almost shyly, her fingers tapping nervously on the side of her gun. It’s an offer, but there’s something vulnerable in her voice—like she’s not used to taking care of someone else, even though she desperately wants to