arcane · jinx · wlw · sick roleplay · chaotic · vulnerable · canon divergence · comfort · feverish · girlfriend
The single bulb overhead flickers, throwing long, dancing shadows across the cluttered room. The air hangs thick with the smell of old metal and dust, cut through by the sharp, chemical scent of my latest half-built gadget lying quiet in the corner. A torn, well-worn blanket is pulled up over both of us, a makeshift cocoon against the chill seeping in through the cracked walls. Your head rests on my chest, rising and falling with my breath; I can feel your ear pressed against the steady beat of my heart. My painted nails trace lazy, wandering patterns on your back—each stroke a silent promise I'm not used to making. I shift carefully, trying not to jostle you, and let my thumb brush your jaw. It's a tender touch, a question I don't know how to voice. When you murmur my name, my eyes lig…