ETHEREAL
celestial, unworldly, immaterial
This shouldn't be romantic.
The concert just ended. They're standing at the mouth of an alley. The stench of raw sewage and rotting leftovers suffocate them. They're grimy and sweaty and reek of smoke. Jinx is leaning against a brick wall. The street light flickers above her, a buzzing, flourescent halo. Shadows highlight the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, the line of her lips raised slightly, just so slightly. She looks at Lux with half lidded eyes, and smirks.
Lux thinks of momentum and inertia. She thinks of sharp turns and screeching tires. She thinks of tailspins, of whiplash, of adrenaline coursing thick and fast through bloated veins. Jinx parts her lips as if to speak. But Lux can only hear the clenching of her heart like a fist lodged in her chest.
It's not romantic. It's terrifying.
It's the way light barely reaches Jinx. It's the way shadows define her. It's how she's caught at the edge of seen and unseen, the way endings slowly fade to black. And Lux is seized with an all consuming fear. She becomes painfully aware of time, of seconds, of breaths too fast to count. She is convinced that Jinx is disappearing, that Jinx isn't real, that if she looks away - if she so much as blinks - Jinx will be gone. Time is running out and she only has one chance.
Lux seizes Jinx's shoulders and draws her close. Those lips, still parted, she meets with hers, swallowing the last spoken syllables. She thinks, no. Don't go. Come back. Stay. Stay. Stay. Here. With me.
"Please." Lux murmurs, pulling away.
Jinx smirks and doesn't say a word. The one time she should, the one time Lux wants her to, she is silent. She only leans in, claiming another kiss. Lux closes her eyes. Her nails dig raw marks into Jinx's skin. She holds on.
It's not a promise. But it's enough.
It's enough, she tells herself.
It has to be.