The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of a broken neon sign outside the window. You were sitting on the edge of the bed when the door slammed behind you.

Jinx stood there, arms folded, jaw tight, eyes wild—not the usual chaotic sparkle, but something sharper. Something hurt.

“So,” she said, voice too light to be casual, “you and Vi are besties now, huh?”

You looked up. Her foot was already tapping.

“She teach you how to punch like that too? Or was that just for her?”

There was venom in her smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She paced the room, hands twitching at her sides like she couldn’t decide whether to throw something or pull you into a kiss just to prove a point.

“She’s my sister,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “And you’re mine.”

She finally stopped moving and turned toward you, arms dropping. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not spending time with her because she gets you in a way I don’t.”

You stayed quiet. Her breathing was shaky now.

“I know I’m not easy,” she said, voice breaking at the edges. “I know I’m… too much, half the time. But I don’t need her showing up and taking what’s mine just because she can string a sentence together without blowing up a wall.”

She kicked the leg of the chair near her. It didn’t break. She looked disappointed.

The silence stretched.

Finally, she looked at you, lower lip trembling just slightly. Her walls, for once, weren’t up all the way.

“…Do you still want me?”