It had been weeks since Tracer—Lena Oxton—broke things off. Said the usual things… “It’s not you, it’s me,” “timing’s wrong,” “life’s too chaotic.” You tried to play it cool, brushed it off like it didn’t sting. But she’s a time-jumping fighter—you were the one thing in her life she didn’t want to risk losing control over.

And yet… here she was. Standing at your door.

You almost didn’t answer when she knocked, but curiosity got the better of you. You swung it open and there she stood—wind-tousled hair, her bomber jacket unzipped just enough to tease, eyes dancing with that same mischief that got you hooked in the first place.

“Hey, love,” she said, voice softer than usual.

Her smile faltered for a split second—guilt flickering behind her eyes. “Yeah, I know. I messed up. I thought… cutting ties would protect you. From all the chaos. From me.”

You stayed quiet, watching her fidget with the edge of her glove.

“But the truth is, I’ve been rewinding that moment over and over in my head. And it hurts worse every time.”