Work Text:
“Jinx!”
Ekko sat on the tiled bathroom floor, wearing rubber slippers, rolled-up sweatpants, and a faded T-shirt with a band logo long since worn beyond recognition. His dreadlocks were pulled back into a ponytail, his eyebrows furrowed, and his face frozen in a mix of exhaustion and resignation.
Clad in yellow rubber gloves, he clutched a dripping clump of blue hair still half-stuck in the shower drain.
“What?”
Jinx’s disheveled head popped into the doorway. She was frozen mid-motion, back arched, her—his—oversized white T-shirt riding up to reveal pale thighs. One leg was lifted, her bunny-eared slipper dangling precariously. In her hand was a massive mug of frosty, saccharine coffee loaded with ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate chips—her usual breakfast abomination.
Under different circumstances, Ekko might’ve found it charming. Maybe his eyes would’ve lingered on the lace panties peeking through the thin fabric. Jinx was breathtaking like this—barefaced, with pillow creases still marking her cheeks.
But not today.
“Your hair clogged the drain. Again,” he said flatly, shaking the soggy mass for emphasis.
Jinx fake-gagged, recoiling. “Ugh! Gross! Get that away from me!”
“Gross is in your cup, and this is your hair.” He glared at the tangled blue strands. “Third time this week.”
She straightened, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms. A deliberate “Hmm” escaped her before she slurped her coffee obnoxiously, lips smacking. “Oh yeah?”
“‘Oh yeah?’” Ekko’s jaw dropped. “Are you—? We’ve talked about this!”
“Yeah, yeah!” Jinx waved him off, mimicking his voice: “‘Use the drain catcher, Jinx! Don’t flood the apartment, Jinx!’ Blah blah blah.”
His eye twitched. Teeth gritted. Shoulders tensed. Jinx hid her smirk behind another sugary sip.
“Jinx, your hair is literally everywhere!”
Ekko flung the clump of hair onto the floor and sprang to his feet, his dramatic motion nearly toppling the army of half-empty shampoo bottles cluttering every surface—shelves, sink, even the washing machine.
“I vacuum, and the canister’s full in two minutes. I eat, and there’s your hair in my food. I sleep, and it’s trying to strangle me. Hell, even when we fuck, I’ve got to watch where I put my hands so I don’t yank it!”
A voice in his head screamed shut up, but the words kept tumbling out. Jinx’s face fell further with each sentence, her usual smirk replaced by something fragile. Yet he couldn’t stop.
“So excuse me if I’d like to wash myself without your hair!”
He planted his hands on his hips, exhaling through his nose.
The bathroom was a disaster, sure, but it wasn’t that hard to clean. And it wasn’t like he minded—it was just hair. Her hair. The hair of the girl he loved more than oxygen.
The girl who was now too silent.
Ekko looked at her and his stomach dropped.
Jinx's nails dug painfully into her forearm. The mug trembled in her grip, her knuckles bone-white. She stood utterly still, jaw locked, chewing her cheek raw to keep the tears at bay. A faint quiver shook her lower lip. Her gaze was fixed on the black and white tiles.
Ekko took a hesitant step forward, his rubber-gloved hand outstretched. "Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"Oh, I'm so sorry my hair is such a pain in your ass," Jinx spat, recoiling like she'd been burned. Her gaze remained locked on the floor, voice dripping with venom. "Funny, I thought you liked pulling it. My mistake."
Before he could respond, she vanished down the hallway, leaving him alone.
"Shit." Ekko ripped off the gloves and hurled them to the tiles. "Jinx, wait!"
He found her in their bedroom, rummaging through a drawer, her coffee mug abandoned somewhere.
Ekko crossed the room in two strides, arms lifting instinctively to pull her close, then froze when her shoulders went rigid at his approach.
His hands fell limp at his sides.
Breathe. Fix this. Now.
"Jinx, I was wrong." His throat tightened around the words. "I got carried away. You know I—" The apology died in his mouth as he finally registered what she was doing. "...What are you doing?"
Jinx clutched a pair of scissors, their blades glinting in the dim light.
"Saving you the trouble," she muttered, voice hollow as she gathered a fistful of blue tangles.
The scissors flashed upward.
Click.
Ekko's world slowed as severed strands fluttered to the floor.
His breath seized. No. Oh no.
When she grabbed another strand, he moved faster, his hand snapping around her wrist with desperate strength. The words tore from his throat raw with panic: "Stop!"
"Ekko, let go!" Jinx twisted violently, but his grip held firm.
The scissors flashed dangerously close to his face. In one swift motion, Ekko seized them with his free hand and wrenched them from her white-knuckled grasp.
"Give them back!" Jinx snarled, lunging like a feral cat.
"Over my dead body!" He hurled the scissors across the room, where they clattered into the far corner. Jinx jerked toward them, but Ekko blocked her path, forcing her to finally meet his eyes.
"What’s your problem?!" Her small fists pounded against his chest—once, twice, three times—each strike trembling with fury.
"My problem?!"
He caught her wrist mid-swing, pressing her clenched hand flat against his pounding heart. Jinx thrashed like a fish out of the water, tears spilling over her lashes. "Let go! Now!"
The sight hit him like a punch to the gut.
His girl. His brilliant, beautiful, sweet girl—reduced to this because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.
"Baby," he murmured, voice breaking as he chased her frantic gaze. "Baby, please. Look at me."
Jinx gradually stilled in his arms, though her lowered lashes still shielded those blue eyes from him.
Ekko's gaze fell to her hair, now unevenly cropped at the shoulder on one side. This wasn't just a trim. Not some routine maintenance. This was years of growth, of care, of her, severed in one reckless moment. Because of him.
With trembling fingers, he cupped her tear-streaked face, lifting it gently. Jinx offered no resistance, her body pliant with exhaustion. When their eyes finally met, the quiet devastation in her gaze carved straight through his chest.
He traced the damp trails on her cheeks, brushed his thumb over her abused lower lip, then pressed their foreheads together. Jinx shuddered but didn't pull away, her breath hitching in broken rhythms. A wounded sound escaped her throat, and Ekko instinctively murmured, "Shh... I've got you."
A weak headshake. The ghost of a smile touched his lips as he nuzzled her nose. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Are you hurt?"
"No," Jinx whispered, her fingers twisted in his shirt, clutching the fabric like an anchor.
Ekko exhaled in quiet relief. Jinx's self-destructive impulses always terrified him most—seeing her hurt herself was his personal nightmare.
"Pow," he murmured, gathering her into his arms, "I love you. So damn much." His lips brushed her temple. "And I'm obsessed with every strand of your hair, even when it's trying to strangle me in my sleep."
A wet laugh shuddered against his collarbone as Jinx pressed closer. "M'sorry..."
"For what, baby?" Ekko swayed them gently, his palm tracing circles between her shoulder blades. The familiar rhythm always steadied her breathing.
Her nose nuzzled the pulse point beneath his jaw. "I... ruined it," she hiccuped. "Now it's all... ugly and uneven. You won't—"
"Jinx." He tipped her chin up, looking at her softly. "I'd adore you even bald. Hell, I'd polish your scalp if you asked." The mental image nearly made him grin, but he swallowed it when her brows knitted.
A long pause. Then, small and uncertain: "...Then why'd you stop me?"
Ekko's sigh melted into the quiet between them. His fingers combed through her silken blue strands, twisting the ends absently around his knuckles.
"You... you once told me," he began, voice unsteady as warmth crept up his neck, "that cutting your hair means cutting away the memories made while it grew." His thumb caught on a knot. "These past seven years... I've been so happy. With you. And, I don’t know, I hoped that you were happy, too. And I just—" A shaky exhale. "I couldn't let you throw that away."
"Oh, Ekko..."
Jinx leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. The way her gaze cleared his mind hadn't changed in all these years. When her lips curved into that shy smile, the one that still made his chest ache, Ekko found himself mirroring it helplessly.
"I was happy too," she whispered, punctuating each word with a kiss: first his nose, then his cheek, finally lingering near the corner of his mouth (he chased her lips, earning a giggle). Her palms framed his face, squishing his cheeks until he pouted like a fish. "I don't want to forget even a single second we spent together. I can’t. Not even if I shaved it all off."
Ekko ducked his head to hide the moisture in his eyes, laughing against her shoulder. "...I'd still rather complain about finding blue hairs in my soup at eighty."
"Liar!" Jinx shoved him playfully, fingers tangling in his white curls. "Weren't you just waxing poetic about loving my bald head?"
He pulled her closer, breathing in the familiar milky scent that clung to her skin. "I'll love you when we're ancient and cranky," he murmured, lips brushing her temple. "When we've forgotten our own names but still remember how to bicker about hair in the shower."
A thoughtful hum vibrated against his ear before she blew sharply, making him shiver.
"Better mean that," she teased. "I'm holding you to it for the next seventy years."