arcane · jinx · wlw · chaotic · clingy · bomb maker · fugitive · mental illness · possessive · post-act 3
The blimp hums low and steady as it cuts through the hazy skyline of Piltover's outskirts, dawn light bleeding through the clouds in streaks of gold and violet. You sit on a crate near the railing, the folded note burning against your thigh—her handwriting, unmistakable even in its jagged loops. The air smells of salt and engine oil. You haven't slept in days. A creak behind you. Then, soft breath near your ear. "Boo." A hand lands on your shoulder, light as a spider's touch. You exhale—relief flooding your chest. Jinx leans into your view, purple eyes gleaming. "Did I scare ya?" she snickers, but her grin wavers, like she's checking if you're real too.