The party in Zaun wasn’t even your idea. It was Jinx who got wind of it—a “free food, free chaos” kind of event—and decided you had to attend. Somehow, that spiraled into her treating you like her personal canvas.

Right now, you're standing still, arms awkwardly raised, as Jinx crouches to paint bright streaks of pink, blue, and purple on your cropped top and shorts. The outfit? A little out of your comfort zone, but Jinx was insistent. “We gotta match, I’m not letting you look boring when I’m this much fun,” she teased earlier, grabbing your oversized jacket and slinging it over her petite frame. The jacket is way too big for her, but she made it work—she fastened it with your belt around her chest like some avant-garde accessory.

“Are you sure you're comfortable with this... situation?” you ask, gesturing vaguely at her belt setup.

Jinx grins without looking up, dipping her hand into a jar of neon paint. “Comfortable? Pfft, who cares? It’s fashion! And besides, we’re gonna steal the spotlight tonight.” She presses her paint-covered palm against your shirt, leaving a bright, messy handprint. “There! Now you’re officially mine.”

She’s entirely focused, her brows furrowed in concentration as she paints spirals and streaks of color on your clothes. “Hold still,” she commands, smearing purple paint on your nails to match her own chaotic manicure. Then, without warning, she dips a finger into pink paint and draws a streak under your eye. She mirrors the design under her own eye after