│𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 — 𝘙𝘶𝘥𝘰, 𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯, 𝘡𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘢, 𝘡𝘰𝘥𝘺𝘭, 𝘑𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘳
Rudo sat in silence, hunched over a pile of broken metal scraps, his hands trembling as he tried to fix a bent gear. You watched him quietly from behind, noticing how his shoulders were tighter than usual.
“You’ve been at it for hours,” you said softly, kneeling beside him.
He didn’t look at you. “I just need to make it work.” His voice was low, rough from exhaustion.
You reached over, gently taking the piece from his hand. “Rudo, it’s okay if it doesn’t. Not everything can be fixed.” That made him freeze — his jaw clenching as he looked up at you, eyes shadowed with old hurt.
“Everything breaks because people give up too soon,” he muttered. “I’m not giving up again.”
Your heart ached, seeing the raw fear hidden under his anger. You cupped his cheek, making him flinch before he leaned into your palm. “You’re not broken,” you whispered. “And I’m not leaving you behind.”
He didn’t reply for a while, his hand coming up to grip your wrist, almost desperate. “…You really mean that?”
His fingers tightened, and he exhaled shakily — a mix between a sigh and a confession. “You’re the only thing I’ve found that isn’t trash,” he said under his breath. Then, quieter,
“And I don’t wanna lose that.”
“Y’know,” Enjin said with his usual teasing grin, spinning his umbrella lazily as he leaned against a lamp post, “you look like you’re plotting something. That face is way too serious for a date.”
You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I’m just thinking about how you always make me walk in the rain while you stay dry under that thing.”
He laughed — that easy, melodic laugh that made your chest feel too warm. “You could always come closer. There’s room for two under here.” He tilted the umbrella just enough that you had to step into his space, brushing shoulders. “See? Much better.”
You looked up at him, catching the glint in his eyes — soft, almost protective. He noticed you staring and raised a brow. “What? Got lost in how handsome I am?”
“More like wondering how someone this annoying is my boyfriend,” you said, but your smile betrayed you.
Enjin chuckled and twirled the umbrella above you, rain splashing around like silver ribbons. “You say that, but you still choose to walk beside me.” He leaned in, voice lower now. “Guess I must be doing something right.”
The sound of rain drowned out the quiet thud of your heartbeat as his hand found yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You connect people, huh?” you teased, echoing his title.
Enjin’s smile softened. “Just trying to make sure the people I love never get lost in the storm.”
Zanka adjusted his sleeves, his face stern as always, but you could tell from the twitch of his eye that something had rattled him. “You shouldn’t have stepped in,” he muttered, voice tight with restrained irritation. You leaned back against the railing, half-smiling. “Someone had to. You were about to punch that guy’s head off.”
He frowned, his composure slipping for a second. “He called you weak.”
“And?” you said, crossing your arms. “You think I can’t handle a few words?”
Zanka’s lips pressed into a hard line. He looked away, mumbling something under his breath. “Doesn’t matter. He disrespected you.”
You walked over, placing your hand on his arm. “You’re not my bodyguard, Zanka.”
His eyes snapped back to yours — sharp but burning with something deeper. “No,” he said quietly, “I’m worse. I’m someone who cares.” His tone softened, the dialect curling around his words in a way that made them sound almost tender. “I don’t like seeing people treat you like you’re less than you are.”
You smiled a little, trying to tease him. “So, are you saying you like me?”
His face turned slightly red, though his expression didn’t change. “…I’m saying that if anyone hurts you again, I won’t hold back next time.”
You laughed, brushing his sleeve. “You’re terrible at confessions.”
He sighed. “And you’re terrible at realizing one when it’s right in front of you.”
Zodyl’s laboratory was silent except for the hum of machinery. You watched him from across the room — focused, motionless, lost in his own calculations. “You’ve been at that for six hours,” you finally said, leaning against the doorway. “You’ll burn out your brain at this rate.”
Without looking up, he replied, “You underestimate how efficient my brain is.”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s not the point, Zodyl.”
He finally turned, meeting your gaze with those sharp, calculating eyes. “You’re concerned about me,” he stated flatly, as if observing a specimen.
You gave him a look. “Obviously.”
There was a pause — too long, too quiet — before he said, “Strange. I can calculate nearly everything, but your care for me never makes sense.”
You approached, standing beside him, brushing your fingers against his arm. “That’s because it’s not logical,” you said softly. “It’s human.”
Zodyl’s lips curved just slightly, almost like a smirk. “I’ve dissected enough of humanity to know most of it is irrational.”
“And yet,” you said, inching closer, “you still let me in.”
He studied you for a long time, the usual coldness in his eyes melting just a little. “…Perhaps I find your irrationality tolerable.”
You smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Don’t,” he muttered, but his hand stayed over yours longer than necessary.
“Oi, oi, oi —” Jabber grinned, blood splattered across his cheek as he approached you, “you should’ve seen that guy’s face when I—”
“Jabber!” you snapped, grabbing his wrist before he could continue. “You promised! No unnecessary fights today!”
He tilted his head, still smiling wide. “But it was necessary. He said something about you.”
Your glare faltered. “…What?”
He shrugged, eyes gleaming like a feral dog’s. “Didn’t like the way he said your name. So I fixed it.”
“Fixed it?!” You groaned, dragging your hand down your face. “You’re impossible.”
Jabber leaned close, his grin turning sharper. “Aw, don’t be mad, doll. You’re the reason I fight better, y’know?”
You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “You fight better because you enjoy pain, Jabber.”
“Exactly,” he said, teeth flashing. “But when you get mad at me, that hurts too — and weirdly, I like it.”
You sighed, pressing a hand to your temple. “You’re insane.”
He leaned even closer, voice low and playful. “Yeah, but I’m your insane.”
Despite yourself, a laugh escaped you. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re covered in blood.”
He blinked, surprised, then smirked wider. “Careful, sweetheart. Say things like that, and I might start another fight just to hear you say it again.”
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