Shouldn't have done that.

Should not have done that.

The 5'3 pinkette glanced at the mask in her hands, and back to the boy whom she'd struck as he flashed by- it wasn't that she'd meant to rip the mask, really, she just lashed out and the mask was the first thing she grabbed and it just happened and she'd just been upset that he called her slow-poke again andshejustwantedtohexhimsoBADLY-

And she hexed the mask, tearing it into two separate pieces.

Kid Flash was still laying face-down in the carpet, where he'd crash-landed after the conflict. He thrummed his fingers along the flooring of the Titan's Tower before extending a hand to ask for the mask without showing his face.

Jinx swallowed.

She stared at the hand before slowly walking over to him- Jesus, he went pretty far- hell, she'd gone too damn far with this- and laying the two pieces in his hand. "Wally, I- I didn't mean to- look, I can take it to Gizmo- he can fix shit-"

"Please tell me I'm not holding the mask that Flash gave me right now."

Her voice caught in her through as she noted the lack of humor in his voice.

He pushed himself up onto one arm so that he was facing away from her and held up the mask. He turned the red and yellow fabric over in his hands, holding the wings between his fingers. "... What am I supposed to do while he's fixing it?"

She shrugged, rubbing on arm along her shoulder. "Go without it for a few days?"

"Not a chance." He chuckled. "You'd freak, trust me."

"Oh, let me guess, you're too attractive?" She narrowed her eyes, letting some of her sarcasm leak back into her voice.

He paused. "Have you ever wondered what Victor would look like without his machinery?"

"Cyborg? No way. He was in some accident- he'd be covered in scars." She sat down so that they were back to back.

"I was struck by lightning when I got my powers, J. Lightning isn't nice to look at." He threw the pieces of the mask to his right, not even flinching when they slapped against the wall. "You're not allowed to see me until I get a new mask, alright? Turn around. I need to head back to my room or check with robin- or. Something, I don't know."

Jinx watched him rub the back of his head. "No."

"Pardon?"

"I said, 'no.' I've seen Mammoth getting out of the shower. You can't phase me with a little scar."

His shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. He turned around to face her. "It's not exactly little."

She clenched her jaw and tried as hard as she could not to flinch.

From what she could tell, it started on the right side of his forehead. The parts of his hairline that the scar dived into were a few shades darker than the rest, like they'd been burned. It was like a all his veins had been colored over with red pen- they wound down his cheek and onto his throat. "How far down does it go?"

"Pretty far."

"That's not very specific."

"Specific is boring."

"Take off your shirt."

"Fine- wait, woah, what? Buy me dinner first, babe."

"Don't be an ass, I just want to see."

He huffed, rolling his eyes as he pulled off the yellow fabric.

She nodded as a thank you, eyes trailing down to follow the scar. The pattern was largest across his chest, covering over two-thirds of it as it thinned out towards his mid section. His right arm was covered down the the elbow, while the left was unmarked. She traced some of the lines with her fingers, dimly aware that the design reminded her of a tree. As she followed the lines down to his navel, then back up to his face, she felt her eyebrows raise. "You have freckles."

"Eyup." He smirked slightly. "Chicks dig 'em."

He dropped the smirk when the hand tracing along his cheek went bright pink with energy. "Right. That was rude. Sorry."

"Right." She glared at him before she noticed- "Oh."

"Hmm?"

"The scar- oh, wow." She tilted her head.

"You gonna tell me, or...?"

She looked at his eyes again, curious. She shuffled to sit on her knees and put her hand between her torso and his. "Watch your scar."

He swung his leg around to sit criss-cross as he glanced down at his stomach.

Jinx smiled slightly and shook her head at his inner two-year-old as she allowed her magic to flow into her hand. She leaned forward and brushed her index finger along one of the more prominent arms of the scar on his chest. It glowed vibrantly for a moment before flowing to other branches, pulsing with energy as it moved. Once the glow reached a break to different branches, it expanded into all of them. The glow faded subtly as it reached the edges of the scar.

Wally whistled quietly, eyes following the movements of the magic. "Well. That's new."

"I'm new." She glanced back to his face with a smirk. "Betcha couldn't do that with other 'chicks'."

"You're still getting my mask fixed."

"Fine." She flicked his forehead. "But you need to stop calling me slow-poke."

"Fine." He stuck out his tongue. "If you stop being a slow-poke."

"Keep being a sarcastic nark, watch how fast that mask of your is on fire."

"Then you're going to have to save the world with a walking anemone."

She sighed, glancing up at the ceiling as if weighting her options. "You're right. Maybe I'll just have to stop hanging out with you."

"Wait a second there-"

She quickly kissed the tip of his nose before standing. She walked over to the doorway, pausing for a moment to glance back at him with a grin. "I'm the only one who gets to see the freckles."

He smiled back. "Yes ma'am."

She nodded with satisfaction as she walked into the hallway.

"... Aren't you going to need the mask pieces-?"

"I was getting to that!"

"Right, right. Slowpoke."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."