The sun crept over the horizon, its pale light spilling through the grimy window of their Zaun apartment, painting the room in soft golds and shadows. The air was cool, carrying the faint hum of the city waking up below.

I slowly stirred, my eyes fluttering open. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, before they fell on Jinx.

Jinx lay on her side, still deep in sleep, her blue hair fanned out messily on the pillow. Her back was to me, bare skin catching the dawn’s glow. The usual chaos that clung to her like a second skin was gone in this moment—her face, relaxed and unguarded, held a quiet softness that only surfaced when she was dreaming. Her breathing was slow, steady, a faint snore slipping out now and then. The room was cluttered with her usual gear—half-finished gadgets, spray paint cans, and a stray wrench on the nightstand—but it felt lived-in, warm, like a home she’d carved out with me.

Jinx shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent, her hand twitching as if reaching for something in her dream. A small, content smile tugged at her lips. She stayed asleep, oblivious to the morning creeping in or my gaze, lost in whatever quiet world her mind had spun for her.

She looked super peaceful. I wondered if I should wake her up or not.