"It is not." He reaches over, brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. "You look happy."
"I am happy." The words come out easier than they should, alcohol loosening my tongue. "I didn't think I could be happy again. After everything. But here I am. Drunk in a cabin with a bunch of assassins. Living my best life."
"That's a low bar for best life."
"My standards have adjusted." I lean into him, let my head fall onto his shoulder. "Is this weird? This should be weird. You broke my brain and now I'm cuddling you."
"It's very weird."
"I'm okay with weird."
"So am I."
From the floor, Jinx groans. "You two are going to make me vomit and it won't be from the alcohol."
"Jealous," I say.
"Absolutely not. I'm happily unattached. Committed to no one but chaos."
"That's sad."
"That's freedom." He rolls onto his stomach, props his chin on his hands. "What about you, Jonah? Before my brother scrambled your brain and stole your heart, what were you besides a journalist? What did you want?"
The question catches me off guard. I think about it, digging through the fragments of memory that have been slowly returning.
"I wanted to tell the truth," I say finally. "I wanted to find the things people were hiding and drag them into the light. I thought if everyone could just see the truth, things would get better. People would be better."
"And now?"
"Now I know it's more complicated than that. Some truths destroy people. Some lies protect them." I look at Jagger. "And some truths are worth destroying everything for."
"Deep," Jinx says. "Very deep. I'm too drunk for depth."
Jagger's arm tightens around me. I can feel him warm against my side, solid and real and here. Here, despite everything. Here, because he chose to be. I lean into him further, letting myself have this moment of peace before the storm.
"I have a question," Elliot says suddenly. "For Jinx."
"Ominous. I love it. Go ahead."
"When are you going to admit that you're not actually happy being alone? That the 'committed to chaos' thing is a defense mechanism?"
The room goes very quiet. Jinx's expression flickers, something vulnerable appearing for just a moment before the mask slams back down.
"That's not a question. That's an attack."
"It's both." Elliot doesn't back down. Drunk Elliot, apparently, has no filter. "I've known you for a year now. I've seen the way you look at people when you think no one's watching. You want what they have. You just won't let yourself have it."
"That's a lot of projection for someone who spent most of his life as someone else's property."
"Takes one to know one."
The tension crackles. Jace puts a hand on Elliot's arm, cautioning. Jinx stares at the smaller man with an expression I can't read.
Then, slowly, the tension drains away. Jinx laughs, though it sounds more tired than amused.
"Maybe you're right," he admits. "Maybe I do want it. But wanting something and being able to have it are different things. Some of us weren't built for love, Elliot. Some of us were built for other things."
"That's bullshit and you know it." I'm speaking before I realize I'm going to. "Look at your brothers. They weren't built for love either. They were built to bring destruction. And yet here they are. Loving people. Being loved back."
