Archive of Our Own

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Be—

Jax's hand shot out from under the covers, smacking the snooze button with the accuracy of a man who's done this far too many times. The digital clock on his nightstand blinked an unholy number back at him: 4:39 A.M.

He squinted at it, bleary-eyed and offended.

Who in their right mind woke up at four in the goddamn morning?

Unless you were a corporate slave or a doomed student, there was no excuse. And Jax, fortunately, was neither.

He let out a low groan and turned his back to the glowing clock display. He was sure he hadn't even set an alarm, so why was it going off this early? The sheets whispered against his real, human skin, luring him back towards the edge of sleep. He clung to that feeling, already drifting off again, eyes heavy, closing naturally.

Knock, knock.

Of course. The universe wasn't done screwing with him.

"Jax?" The voice coming from outside his bedroom door was too clear, too awake for this hour. "I–uh, heard your alarm go off. So… I think you're awake?" The person knocked again, a little louder this time. "Jax?"

How is Pomni criminally functional at dawn?!

Jax let out a low, tortured sound and buried his face in his pillow. "Go away, corporate slave," he muttered, his words muffled by cotton and sleepiness. Maybe, if he burrowed deep enough, he'd merge with the mattress and ascend to a higher plane, one without alarms, clocks, or an accountant girlfriend that is somehow bright and alert after the devil's hour.

"What?" Pomni responded, caught off guard, "What does that even–" she cut herself short, probably realizing that trying to reason with a half-conscious Jax was a lost cause. "As I was about to say, we need to hit the road by five-thirty. If we want to make it to the airport early, you need to be up now."

…

"... Jax?" Pomni's voice softened, a trace of concern threading through her words. "Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"No shit, you're the only one talking this much at four in the morning…" He finally grumbled after a sluggish pause. Groaning, Jax dragged himself upright, his brown hair a chaotic mess sticking out in every direction as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Geez."

He kicked his blanket off and shuffled to the door, bare feet meeting the cold floor.

"We're trying not to miss our flight," Pomni replied, her voice slightly muffled through the wood, until he opened it. The light from the hallway spilled into his cave of a room, stinging at his half-closed eyes. 

"Good morning, by the way," she added, looking up at him and his bed-risen glory.

"Yeah, yeah. Mornin'," Jax muttered, scratching the back of his neck mid-yawn. "Great. I'm awake now. You can go back to doing whatever else you need to do. Like packing or something…" He waved her off with a lazy shooing motion, eyes still half-closed.

"Uhh, I already packed yesterday," she said, one eyebrow raising. "You did too, right?"

Silence.

"You did too… right?" She repeated the question, this time more hesitantly, as if she knew the answer she didn't want to hear would be the most likely reality.

Jax didn’t answer. He just turned around, trudging back into his room again. Pomni lingered in the doorway, her hands fidgeting together. She watched as he hauled his suitcase from the corner and dropped it onto the bed. The zippers rasp cut through the quiet.

He flipped it open. It was empty.

Pomni blinked, then let out a long sigh. "Knew it." She shot a very deserved pointed look at Jax.

"Hey, I’m workin’ on it," Jax said, walking up to his closet. He grabbed random clothes by the handful and flung them unceremoniously into his half-open suitcase. Shirts, jeans, socks, one messy blur of motion.

"I don’t think that’s a good way to do it," Pomni advised, watching his clothes pile up. "It’s gonna fill up too fast."

"Aren’t we in a time rush?" he countered, barely glancing her way. "No time for folding."

Pomni exhaled through her nose. "How about this," she began, carefully measured, "you take a shower, and I’ll fix your things. That way, we’ll be more time-efficient. How’s that sound?"

Jax froze mid-toss, finally looking over his shoulder at her. That familiar smirk crept up, sharp and playful. "Makes you sound like a creep who’s just dying to go through my clothes."

Pomni’s face went perfectly flat. He wasn't even given a single blink.

"Aw, c’mon, Pom-Pom, I was kidding! Lighten up a little!" He threw his hands up, voice laced with mock offense. Energy was finally creeping into him, the sluggishness fading. "You really can’t take a joke, can you?"

She froze just slightly, eyes flickering down before muttering, "...Now, where have I heard that before?"

The air between them stiffened. A tiny shift, but enough.

"Ah, don’t bring that up," Jax muttered, smirk dropping and face cringing like he’d bitten into something sour. He shook his head, trying to brush it off. "Anyway, didn’t you say you wanted to handle my clothes? Well, here’s your workload." He walked towards her and guided her in front of her task.

"Really generous of you, by the way. Tell you what, I’ll drive us. You can be the passenger princess. How’s that sound?" 

Pomni rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched in reluctant amusement. "Fine. I’ll take you up on your word. Now go shower before you start bargaining again."

"How bossy," Jax teased, snatching his towel draped on a chair and heading for the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the room fell into a soft quiet. Pomni looked at the suitcase, then at the chair he'd accidentally moved when grabbing his towel, and couldn’t help the small smile that curved her lips. It was fleeting, but warm, gone in a second, though it lingered all the same.

"Okay. Are you sure we didn’t forget anything?" Pomni asked for what had to be the twelfth time.

"Yes, Momni," Jax drawled, dragging his suitcase toward the door. "If we packed any more, we’d be bringing the whole damn house."

"Chargers? Phones? Passports?" Pomni listed in quick succession.

"Check, check, and check." He flicked off the lights, the living room falling into shadow. "You know, this is supposed to be a vacation, right? Kinda’ defeats the purpose if you’re going to stress the whole way there."

"Well, we can't go on said vacation if we forget something important, can we?" Pomni countered, crossing her arms. Her tired bun mirrored her mood: frazzled, uneven, barely hanging on. The keys in her hand jingled softly, the tiny metallic chime betraying her restlessness.

Jax grinned, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in lazy amusement. "Look, you've already triple-checked everything. Are you really doubting that genius brain of yours?" He plucked the keys from her fingers before she could argue. "Now, get in. I'll take the wheel. Relax."

He sauntered toward her red car, tossing her a quick grin over his shoulder. The morning air was crisp, tinted with that quiet hum before sunrise. Pomni shook her head but followed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "this guy…"

Jax popped open the trunk and, very gracefully, placed his luggage inside. "Your turn," he said, holding out a hand. Pomni passed over her own suitcase, which he set neatly beside his own.

"We should probably get going," Pomni murmured, glancing at her watch. "Five twenty-three."

"Then we hit the road." Jax slammed the trunk shut with a satisfying thud. As he opened the driver’s door, a mischievous spark crossed his face. "Still early, though… want me to–"

"Nope." Pomni was already sliding into her seat. "We are not getting a speeding ticket before our flight."

"Aww, but I thought you liked a little thrill?"

"I do," she said, fastening her seatbelt, "just not when it involves sirens and fines..." Unnecessarily, her thoughts drifted back to a time when she nearly got arrested for sneaking into an old school being built. She managed to escape back then, but now, the sound of a police car always makes her uneasy.

"Boring," Jax bemoaned, starting the engine and flicking on the car's audio system. "Fine, at least let's have some music." 

"Sure," Pomni said, deciding to indulge him. "What kind?"

Jax’s grin widened, the kind that always meant trouble, or at least a good laugh at her expense.

Minutes later, as dawn stretched across the horizon, Pomni’s red car rolled down the quiet street blasting Call Me Maybe loud enough to be heard outside of the vehicle.

Airports, Jax decided, were liminal spaces. Too bright, too clean; even though it's probably not, and filled with people who all looked equally lost but pretended they weren’t.

They'd just finished the security check, leaving the long line of people behind them. Pomni was still looking frazzled, clutching her carry-on while side-eyeing Jax.

"...Why," she began, voice tight with disbelief, "did you have a padlock inside your luggage?" Since she had been the one to fix his things, he must've snuck it behind her back; otherwise she would've known.

Jax slung his carry-on, a duffel bag, over one shoulder, completely unbothered. "What? You're still on about that?"

"It's not even for your type of luggage," Pomni said, lowering her voice and slightly slowing down. "The officer gave me a look."

Jax smirked. "I've heard France has a lot of pickpockets. Gotta stay prepared." He reasoned.

"You put the padlock inside the suitcase."

"Exactly," he said, as if that explained anything. "That way, they won’t expect it!" He nudged her lightly with his elbow.

Pomni looked at him, massaging her arm that wasn’t even sore, looking completely done. "You’re impossible."

"Thanks, I try." He dramatically placed his hand over his heart, pretending to be moved.

There had to be nothing more unnerving than walking through an airplane aisle while a hundred strangers watched you. It felt like a rite of humiliation.

Jax could feel every pair of eyes tracking them as they shuffled down the narrow path as they tried not to bump anyone’s knees or elbows.

"What seats are we again?" He muttered, voice tight. Too many eyes. It made his skin crawl.

Pomni glanced at the tickets in her hand, squinting under the cabin lights. "Uh… row fourteen, seats A and B." She looked up, looking around again. "There!" She pointed triumphantly.

They squeezed past a couple of travelers, offering—well, it was mostly Pomni while Jax just grumbled—the awkward sorrys and excuse me’s that came with the territory. When he turned around, he caught sight of Pomni struggling to lift her carry-on into the overhead bin, and if this was a battle, she was losing, embarrassingly so.

Jax immediately bit the inside of his mouth. "You… look like you're struggling." His lip quivered, fighting off a laugh that was trying to escape.

"Oh, wow, what a helpful boyfriend," Pomni shot back, head turning in full offense. "Tall enough to help, but chooses to laugh instead."

"Whaaat? I'm not laughing." He coughed, glancing away from the situation for a moment.

"You literally are. I can see it with my two eyes." Pomni deadpanned, noticing his puffed-out cheeks. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"I will, I will, just…" Jax sighed dramatically, facing her again and taking her bag. With a casual lift, he stowed it away with ease. "Next time, just ask. Don't embarrass yourself like that."

"Next time, don’t just laugh!" she countered. She looked once again at their tickets in her hands. "Okay, you go in first, you got the window seat."

"Nah, you take it." Jax said way too casually.

Pomni blinked. "…Really?" 

"Yes, really," Jax repeated in a monotone way. "Unless you want me to change my mind." He raised a single eyebrow, as if daring her to reject his offer.

"Nope." Pomni slid in quickly, settling into the window seat and patting the spot beside her, gesturing for Jax to sit down.

Jax smirked but sat down anyway.

Once everything had settled, the luggage tucked away, the passengers quieting down, the hum of the engines soft beneath them, Pomni finally exhaled. The tension she’d been carrying since she was awake just… eased.

Jax noticed immediately, as he was watching her out of the corner of his eyes, even if he'll deny it. "My presence is that soothing, huh?"

Pomni chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Just relieved we didn’t run into any problems, honestly."

For once, Jax didn’t fire back with a tease. He just looked at her for a second longer before murmuring, "You really don’t gotta doubt us, y’know." He stretched casually before slipping an arm around her shoulders.

Pomni smiled, glancing at his hand on her arm. She didn't usually like being touched, for her own reasons; it always left her uneasy, but Jax seemed to be an exception. His touch didn't unsettle her; it left a soft, fluttering tingle instead. She leaned into him, just slightly. "I’m starting to learn that."

The intercom crackled from above, "Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain speaking…"

Jax tilted his head toward her, paying no mind to the pilot’s reminders or the flight attendant’s safety instructions. "Hey, you got any movies on your phone?"

"Yeah, plenty." 

"Good," he said, a grin tugging at his mouth. "I call dibs on picking the first one."

Day One

Charles de Gaulle Airport, Roissy-en-France, France

Jet lag hit them like a slow, relentless wave. Seven hours in a metal tube, and Jax was convinced long-haul flights qualified as a mild form of mental torture.

Cold wind greeted them the moment they stepped outside the airport. Fresh and biting, curling under his coat and making it flutter slightly. The sky was a dull gray, morning light blocked with heavy clouds. The ground beneath them was damp, and the taxi cabs were speckled with raindrops.

"Alright. We’re here!" Pomni announced, trying for enthusiasm but sounding about two yawns away from collapse. The excitement in her voice was real, though buried under layers of exhaustion. 

Jax wasn't faring much better either.

They watched three movies, it helped, barely. They slept briefly, it helped, barely. The headache from waking in a cramped seat made them want to split their skulls open, Zeus-style.

"The Country of Love is certainly not loving right now," Jax muttered, dragging both their suitcases behind him as they approached the taxi queue.

Pomni hugged her coat tighter, scanning the signs and people arriving and leaving the airport around them. "Uh… how exactly do we tell them where to go? I don’t exactly speak French."

"You think I do?" Jax shot her a look. "Just say ‘Pullman Hotel Tour Eiffel.’ It’s literally the name. English. Universal. We’ll survive."

"Don’t jinx it."

Jax stepped forward and tapped lightly on the taxi’s window. The driver, a man in his thirties with square glasses and an expression of mild disinterest, rolled it down.

"Quoi?"

"Pullman Hotel Tour Eiffel," Jax said, enunciating like that might magically translate.

The driver gave a short nod and motioned for them to get in.

Jax gestured to the trunk. "Pom, get inside. I’ll handle the bags."

Pomni obeyed without complaint, too tired to argue, slipping into the back seat while stifling another yawn.

Jax loaded their luggage with methodical sluggishness, every movement deliberate and heavy with travel fatigue. His mind was already halfway to the hotel bed, white sheets, soft pillows, and sweet, uninterrupted sleep, which he had been robbed of earlier.

When he finally climbed into the taxi beside Pomni, he sank into the seat, exhaling as the car drove into the rain-stained streets.

Exploring the city could wait. For now, sleep will come first, Jax mentally declared.

"Thank you, by the way," Pomni said quietly, her voice barely louder than the hum of the taxi engine. She was looking out the window, eyes reflecting the blur of passing lights, unfamiliar streets and buildings.

Jax turned his head a little, brow furrowed. "For what exactly?" He asked, confusion lacing his tone.

"You know… for handling most of the luggage. And driving earlier." Her words came sleepily slow, like she wasn’t sure if she was saying them aloud or thinking them.

Jax exhaled softly through his nose and turned back toward his side's window. "Don’t mention it," he said. "It was just bags, and I was just returning the favor of you handling my clothes." He rested his jaw on his closed fist.

The tips of his ears flushed pink in the dim light of the taxi. Hard to notice, but it was there.

If he had looked back, he would’ve seen Pomni watching him, her head resting lightly against the seat, a small, tired smile curving her lips. The kind of smile that said thank you again, without needing words.

Outside, Roissy-en-France rolled on in quiet motion, the car carrying them to a city just waking up.

The hotel room door unlocked with a soft click as the card reader lit green. Pomni stepped inside first, dragging her feet across their hotel room's floor. Sunlight poured through the balcony window freely, spilling golden light across the two neatly made twin beds.

"I’m beat," Pomni declared flatly, voice muffled by fatigue. Her eyebags looked even darker than usual.

"You’re not the only one," Jax muttered, letting their luggage collapse just inside the doorway. He surveyed the space; the room was simple, tidy, with a small TV in the corner, and a faint citrus scent from freshly cleaned sheets. "Huh."

Drawn by the brightness, he crossed to the balcony doors. Outside, Paris stretched wide and noisy, honking cars graced their ears, and there, framed against a pale morning sky, stood the Eiffel Tower.

"Oh, look," he said dryly, "the famous pointy metal tower."

He turned just in time to see Pomni flop face-first onto the nearest bed. She peeked up for all of three seconds before another yawn overtook her. "Oh, yeah," she mumbled, "that’s… pretty."

"Looks like dreamland’s already calling you," Jax said, pulling the curtains shut and muting the noise of the city. "You’re really committing to your exhausted aesthetic right now."

"You don’t look much better," she fired back, voice heavy with sleep.

"Wow. I didn’t even say anything about how you look. Putting words in my mouth now, Pomni? You could really hurt my feelings." Jax snickered, but moved closer anyway. He tugged at the thick duvet, freeing it from its overly tucked corners, and draped it over her.

"There. Looks like the hotel fairy has to look after you again."

Pomni cracked one eye open, smiling faintly. "That’s been your longest-running bit since that wedding trip."

"Pshhh, what bit? I’m not the hotel fairy," Jax said, pretending to sound innocent. "Though I am flattered that you think I’m a good caretaker."

"Whatever you say," Pomni exhaled, smile deepening as her eyes finally closed.

Jax huffed out a laugh and sat on his own bed, kicking off his shoes without care. "Yeah, yeah. You're making me jealous. I’m crashing too."

He lay back, already halfway gone to sleep. "Good–eh, sweet dreams, Pomni. Dream of me."

Her voice came out drowsy but sharp. "That’s a nightmare."

"Rude," he mumbled, but his grin lingered even as his eyes shut.

The last thing he heard was: "Have sweet dreams too, Jax."

And he believed he would.

By the time they woke, the clock read 2 P.M. The city outside their room was fully awake, streets dry, the air mild, and the sun behind soft clouds now that cast a pale, dreamy glow over Paris. The kind of light that made even the dullest rooftops look romantic and picturesque.

Their stomachs reminded them how long it had been since airplane food, so they ordered a late lunch from the hotel menu. It was overpriced to a ridiculous degree, but food was food and it did the job. Reenergized and half-rested, they finally stepped out to see what they’d come for.

The Eiffel Tower loomed ahead like an impossible structure out of a dream, its iron frame spearing into the sky. Crowds wandered about; families taking photos, couples sharing scarves, groups of tourists laughing with selfie sticks in hand.

Pomni’s eyes softened. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, watching the light glint off the steel.

Jax, hands shoved in his coat pockets, tilted his head back. "Pretty," he admitted, "for a giant fork sticking out of the ground."

Pomni glanced at him briefly at the corner of her eyes. "It’s the symbol of love." She attempted to rationalize positively; however... it would be a lie to say there wasn't a part of her that was somewhat confused about why it held that meaning.

Jax’s face remained perfectly straight. "Can’t wait to tell everyone I flew halfway across the world to see the world’s fanciest radio antenna."

"Jax." Pomni said with exasperation.

"Alright, alright, I’ll behave." He lifted both hands in mock surrender, lips twitching. "It's the symbol of love, because you said so. Now, are we going up there or not?" 

Pomni sighed but couldn’t hide her smile. "Let’s go."

He paid for their tickets, insisting it was only fair since she’d covered their earlier meal. The elevator was packed, and Pomni wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Her face showed a hint of discomfort, and she stood rigidly. Jax noticed this and subtly shifted his body to create some space between her and the rest of the people.

When they finally stepped onto the observation deck, Pomni breathed a sigh of relief. The lower deck showed a city that stretched endlessly in every direction. Visitors took turns using the binoculars provided, and the atmosphere was cheerful. The wind was cool and faintly sweet, though that sweet part might just be Pomni's perfume.

They climbed up to the upper deck, where metal railings did not obstruct their sight.

"Not... bad, actually," Jax remarked, leaning against the railing. Those nearby were snapping photos of the scenery, which gave Jax an idea. "Hey, Pomni. Stand here."

Pomni, standing next to him, moved in a bit closer. "Um, what for?"

"Memories." He pulled out his phone, swiping to the camera app. His lock screen briefly flashed: a photo of Pomni at sunset from some past trip, looking soft and happy.

Pomni's cheeks turned red as she realized what he was doing. "You’re just going to take it at a bad time." She murmured.

"Are you insulting my photography skills?" Jax tsked, stepping in front of her and starting to adjust his phone. "C’mon, pose, Pom-Pom."

She folded her arms, still skeptical. "How?"

"You know how," he said with a smirk. "I’ve seen you do it before. That time, you, me, and Zooble." He didn't really enjoy recalling that intermission break Caine forced them to participate in, especially because of how it ended, but it felt like the right moment to mention it.

Pomni sighed, but a subtle grin revealed her true feelings. She brushed her hair back, trying to look decent as she stood by the railing with the skyline glowing faintly behind her, and the moment she turned her head toward him, Jax clicked the photo.

The screen lit up with the captured image: Pomni, smiling. The backdrop was the city of Paris, with sunlight filtering through the clouds as if it were in on their little secret.

"Hm. Pretty," Jax softly said to himself, loud enough for just him to hear as he checked at the picture he’d taken. 

"Let me see?" Pomni asked softly, stepping closer until her shoulder brushed his arm. Jax compliantly tilted his phone.

She blinked at the screen, her eyes suddenly glimmering. "Huh. That’s… not bad."

Jax looked pleased with himself. "You doubting my photography skills or your own face?" He reached out and gave her head a light pat, earning a quiet huff.

"I’m just not used to being… portrayed like that," she said, still looking at the picture, trying to sound casual, though her voice dipped into something small and sincere.

"Well, get used to it," Jax replied matter-of-factly, tucking the phone into his pocket. "I only take the best shots."

Their conversation carried easily over the hum of the crowd; tourists laughing and talking, the wind slipping through the metal beams. Amid it all, an older couple nearby had been watching them with warm smiles. The woman, dressed neatly in a beige coat and scarf, finally stepped closer.

"Oh, honeymoon?" she asked in a thick French accent, eyes kind and curious.

Both Pomni and Jax froze mid-breath. Pomni looked at the person asking, and felt her cheeks flush. Her face was quickly shifting to her favorite shade of red.

"I–uh, no… non?" Pomni stammered, shaking her head so quickly it looked like she was trying to dislodge the question itself.

"Non?" echoed the amused old man next to her; his wife cocked her head in interest.

And just as Pomni was about to explain, Jax smiled, far too broadly. "Oui. Honeymoon."

Pomni’s head snapped towards him so fast you could hear a crack.

"She’s just shy," Jax added, ever the picture of fake sincerity. 

The couple exchanged glances, trying to comprehend what Jax was saying, and then the woman smiled with understanding. "Ah, c’est probablement encore surréaliste pour cette dame. Je comprends, j’étais comme ça aussi." Her husband agreed with her remarks.

Jax and Pomni exchanged a look, the universal look of, ‘I have no idea what she just said, do you?’

"Oui," Jax replied anyway, with the confidence of someone completely winging it. Pomni thought about being honest, but doing so would only lead to confusion for the two individuals in front of her and paint Jax as a liar. Which he is, for the record.

The man laughed softly and reached out his hand. "Do you want a picture?" 

Pomni glanced at the offered hand, feeling flustered. "Uh, o-oui?" she stammered, her voice scarcely audible.

At her yes, Jax handed over his phone, stepping beside her as the couple prepared to take their photo.

As the elderly woman continued to lead her husband through the complexities of phone photography, complete with animated gestures about height and distance, Jax, without a second thought, found his hand resting comfortably on Pomni's waist. She tensed for a brief moment, not expecting it, but instead of pulling away, she gradually relaxed into his touch. 

After a pause, she broke the silence. "I can’t believe you actually said that," Pomni remarked, her cheeks still warm as she turned her body toward the camera.

"C’mon, would you really want to disappoint the happy couple?" Jax replied, voice dripping with mock sweetness. And despite his attempts to appear unaffected, a subtle flush crept onto his cheeks.

"We are not married."

"Unofficially, we kind of are," he replied with a playful grin. "They said it themselves." His eyes went back to the couple before them.

Pomni exhaled through her nose, disbelief giving way to reluctant amusement. "Unbelievable." But despite her protest, she leaned into him just as the woman signaled that the shot was ready.

"Un, deux, trois!"

A soft click.

"Done," the old man said proudly, reviewing the picture. His wife smiled at the result, liking what she saw, before they returned the phone.

Both of them leaned over the screen at once. For a moment, they just stared. Their faces in the photograph were covered in a gentle glow and familiar sweetness that tugged at the heart.

Pomni was the first to move, quickly thanking the couple. Jax followed a beat later, voice quieter this time. "Uh, yeah–merci."

As the pair waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd, Jax glanced down at the photo one more time, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. "Looks like the City of Love is starting to get to us, huh?" he said, tucking the phone into his pocket again.

Pomni turned toward the view, still feeling warm. Below them, the Seine shimmered like glass, a large tour boat gliding through it. On the walkway, people enjoyed riding rental bikes, laughing joyfully. 

"Oh," she exclaimed unexpectedly, tugging the edge of Jax's arm sleeve and pointing. "Do you want to try that next?"

He followed her gaze. "Ride bikes?"

"Yeah. You can ride, right?" 

"Wording Pomni." Jax replied initially, then added, "Of course I can. It’s just like a motorcycle, but, you know, passive." Jax shrugged, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

Pomni laughed softheartedly, shaking her head. "That is not the same thing."

"It kinda is. Both have two wheels. The only difference is that on one you pedal, and on the other, you twist the handles."

Pomni snorted, crossing her arms with an amused tilt of her head. "Alright then, prove it, Mr. Motorcycle and Bike Expert."

"Oh, you bet."

And that’s how they ended up renting two bikes from Vélib’ Métropole, the metallic click of unlocking them echoed faintly against the hum of the Parisian streets.

"This is how you do it," Jax said, hopping onto his bike with confidence. He kicked off the pavement. He wobbled once, much to his dissatisfaction, before eventually finding his rhythm. He glided down a small stretch of the path.

Pomni smiled faintly as he looped back around, the smug grin already plastered on his face. "Are you sure you’re not just trying to impress me?" she asked.

"Pfft, you wish, Pomni," Jax shot back, skidding to a light stop beside her. "Now, are you riding or what? We’ve got a whole Seine to conquer."

"Okay, okay." She laughed under her breath and climbed onto her own bike, gripping the handlebars. "Let’s go?"

"Let’s go." He tilted his head toward the path, giving her the lead.

Pomni initially pushed off carefully but soon found her pace, the pedals turning smoothly as the gentle hum of the chain blended with the environment. 

The scenery whizzed by in fleeting glimpses: pairs of people lounging by the river, the sound of an accordion player echoing from a nearby bridge, and the scraping of café chairs against the cobblestones. Yet, her gaze remained fixed on the sky, streaked with silver and soft white, and, without intending to, on Jax, who followed close behind. 

The wind tousled her already loose bun; when she reached up, the tie slipped free, and her brown hair cascaded down, soaring with the wind like delicate ribbons. She felt lighter, more liberated; it was as though the city had taken a breath alongside her.

"Enjoying yourself?" Jax’s voice came from beside her; he was closer than she expected.

She glanced over, her lips curling up slightly. "Yeah," she confessed, feeling both breathless and satisfied.

He grinned, gazing forward at the meandering path. "Good," he commented, softly enough that Pomni almost missed it.

For a brief moment, they rode in quietude, a duo riding along the Seine in peace.

Eventually, after a while of riding along the Seine, they slowed to a stop near a modest bakery tucked between ivy-draped buildings. The aroma wafting from inside was deliciously inviting, filled with the scent of butter, sugar, and a recently baked treat, warmth pouring out through the ajar entrance as someone stepped outside. If Jax were still a humanoid rabbit, his ears would’ve shot straight up.

"Well, well, look what we have here," he said with a grin, pausing his pedaling and hopping off his bike. "Hey, Pomni, wanna try some actual French bread?"

Pomni thought about it as her stomach already responded. "I am quite hungry," she confessed. "You can head inside, I’ll keep an eye on the bikes."

"Save us a spot," Jax said, giving her his bike and pointing toward the outdoor tables lined along the cobblestone.

"Got it."

Pomni pulled her hair into a somewhat tidy bun, bringing both bicycles and positioning them next to a small round table sheltered by a cream-colored umbrella. For a few moments, she just sat there and absorbed the sounds; the crinkling of paper bags, the low chatter of French speakers, and the sporadic barking of a leashed dog.

When Jax finally returned, he carried a crinkled paper bag like it contained treasure. "I got the goods," he declared, sitting down across from her. He reached inside and handed her a smaller bag. "This one’s yours."

Pomni peeked inside, and immediately smiled. "Pain au chocolat," she said softly, as if the words themselves were delicious. "Oh, this smells amazing." She took one out, admiring the delicate layers of the bread.

"Finally, some real food," Jax said, already taking a huge bite of his own.

"Mhm," Pomni hummed, eyes fluttering closed as she savored the flaky crust and soft chocolate center. It was blissfully rich, the kind of sweetness that made the world fall quiet for a second.

Click.

Her eyes snapped open. A phone hovered in front of her face. The culprit? None other than Jax.

"Hey! I wasn’t ready!" she protested, trying to grab his phone, which he quickly pulled back.

"That’s the point," Jax replied, proud of his actions. "Now I’ve got something new for the Pomni folder."

Pomni squinted. "You have a me folder?"

"Duh. For blackmail."

"Jax." 

"What? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one who keeps letting your guard down around me!"

Pomni crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "One of these days, I’ll get my revenge." She muttered ominously.

"Kinda’ stupid of you to say that out loud," Jax said with mock thoughtfulness, leaning back in his chair. "Now I’ll always expect it."

Before she could come up with a retort, he unexpectedly leaned in and ran his fingers along the back of her head, pulling her hair tie free. Her hair cascaded down over her shoulders.

Pomni swatted at his hand, giving him a flat look. "...What are you doing?"

He simply grinned, his eyes shining with playful intent. "Hm. You should really let your hair down more often. Makes you look less like the frazzled corporate slave you are."

"It keeps my hair away from my face," she murmured, tucking a strand behind her ear. 

"Yeah, yeah," Jax replied, reclining with a casual smile. "Whatever floats your boat."

Pomni remained silent for a while, not touching her food as the sounds of the city filled the space between them.  

"..Um, hey," she finally said, her voice slightly hesitant. "I was thinking…"  

Jax lifted his gaze from brushing off the pastry crumbs from his shirt. "Yeah?"

"Would you, uh…be interested in going out for dinner tomorrow night?"  

He stared for a moment, then widened his eyes.  

"…Are you asking me out?" The grin that broke out on his face was immediate and ridiculously broad.  

"Yeah, maybe," Pomni mumbled, quickly stuffing a piece of pain au chocolat into her mouth to conceal the pink shade rising in her cheeks. 

"Aww, look at you getting all shy," Jax teased, chin resting on his palm. "That’s adorable."

"Why are you avoiding the question?" she shot back, words muffled by pastry.

"I’m not," he said, smirking. "I just want to know your intentions, Miss Pomni. What are they, exactly?" He leaned in a bit closer, obviously enjoying the moment.

Pomni groaned, her cheeks flushed, and slumped back in her seat. "I regret asking."

Jax laughed softly, giving his head a shake. "No, no, no, there’s nothing to regret if I say yes."

Her gaze lifted. "...Is that a yes?"

"Duh. Who am I to pass on free food?" He smiled, still chuckling. It should be annoying, yet Pomni couldn’t help but smile back.

"Did you even bring clothes that are, you know, appropriate for a nice dinner?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She couldn’t remember any semi-formal attire when she was fixing his luggage.

"Are you saying my clothes aren’t proper?"

"Hey, you’re the one twisting my words!"

He snorted at her reaction. "Yeah, yeah, I did bring some. What about you?" 

"Of course I did." She folded her arms, wearing a slight grin. The type of dress she brought was... new to her, to say the least, but wasn’t her entire principle about embracing new experiences?

"Oh, so you’ve been planning this, huh?" Jax remarked, leaning forward with playful suspicion. "I see, I see…"

"Well," Jax said, his voice shifting to a gentler tone than usual, "I’m looking forward to our little date, Miss Pomni."

He reached out and gently caught a rogue strand of her hair between his fingers, idly twirling it as if committing the feel to memory. His gaze rested on her face, unusually steady and almost thoughtful.

Pomni felt a flutter in her chest. "Yeah," she replied softly, a faint smile appearing on her lips. "Me too."

The surrounding world faded into the background as they continued their meal. While Jax was rambling about all the other options of bread available inside, Pomni was already anticipating their date. 

But tomorrow could wait.

For now, this moment was enough.

Day Two

Louvre Museum, Paris, France

"What is it with the French and their obsession with shapes?" Jax muttered, craning his neck to stare up at the massive glass pyramid. Its triangular panes mirrored the clouds above, each reflection shifting whenever a bird passed overhead. "They're stealing the Egyptians' brand."

Pomni chuckled, pausing to think of a reasonable answer. "Well, it does make the place stand out. You can't really miss a giant glass triangle in the middle of a courtyard."

"I guess..." Jax squinted at it like it had personally offended him. "Still weird, though."

"And besides," Pomni said, tilting her head up to meet his eyes, "inside there are even more shapes. Kind of fitting, don't you think?"

Jax sighed dramatically. "Ah yes, can’t wait to see all the naked statues."

"It’s called history," she said, exasperated.

He grinned. "Can’t wait to see history’s naked statues, then."

Pomni gave him a long, unimpressed look; one that only made his grin widen as he threw her a wink. She turned away, a faint blush creeping onto her face.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, scanning signs in both French and English, and narrowly avoiding loud tour groups, they finally found the entrance leading into the Denon Wing. The cool air of the museum hit them immediately. 

Their first stop was the Salle des Caryatides, a wide hall filled with pale statues and pillars that glowed faintly under the overhead light. Tourists moved through like a tide, cameras raised, conversations softly echoing off the stone walls.

"Speaking of which," Pomni said, her eyes scanning the rows of sculptures, graceful, solemn, and missing the occasional limb.

Jax followed her gaze toward the statue of Artemis with a Doe, the goddess caught mid-step, marble so smooth it almost looked alive. He leaned closer to Pomni, lowering his voice. "Aren’t these supposed to be Greek gods? Shouldn’t they, you know… be in Greece?"

Pomni blinked, thinking. "I’m… not really sure?"

"Huh," Jax said, straightening up with mock solemnity. "Seems like it’s not only the British who like to keep souvenirs."

She shot him a side-eye. "Since when did you know that?"

"I know many things," Jax grinned and then quickly poked her cheek before she had the chance to roll her eyes.

"Anyway," Jax began, glancing around at the sea of marble and tourists, "where’s the crown jewel? The oh-so-famous Mona Lisa? Thought she’d be waiting to greet us at the door or something."

Pomni smiled faintly, her voice thoughtful. "I think we’ll have to explore a little more before that." 

She paused before a statue, Centaur chevauché par l’Amour, a powerful half-man, half-horse figure, his muscles strained under the playful weight of Eros, the god of love.

"Is this guy slow? He’s half the height of that baby," Jax said, frowning as if genuinely trying to make sense of it.

"I don’t think that’s the point," Pomni murmured, amused.

"Well, that is my point." Jax shrugged, already wandering toward another sculpture. Pomni trailed behind him.

"This one could surely use a hotel fairy," he added, stopping at Sleeping Hermaphroditus–a languid, reclining figure draped over a marble bed, its back turned to the world without a care.

Pomni snorted. "You’re so ridiculous." She shook her head, smiling as she walked past.

"I’m not ridiculous," Jax protested, following her. "Tell that to the person who decided to nap with their entire ass out for the public."

"Jax!" Pomni laughed, trying to shush him as passing visitors gave curious glances.

"What? I’m appreciating the art!" he said with a grin, catching up to her as rows of glass cabinets and ancient stone relics came into view.

"Just appreciate it quietly," Pomni said, gesturing grandly to the whole room as if to remind him of where they were.

"I am," Jax defended. He reached out suddenly and took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as they continued walking side by side.

Pomni turned to him, cheeks faintly warm, warm just like his hand. "You’re not acting like it."

"Hey," he said, glancing at her with mock seriousness, "don’t judge a book by its cover. That’s like looking at a statue and saying it’s just stone."

Pomni raised an eyebrow. "...Are you saying you’re a piece of work?" She asked incredulously.

Jax’s smile widened, confident and teasing. "Maybe."

After walking through what felt like endless halls of marble statues, oil paintings, and relics older than memory itself, Pomni and Jax finally reached the Salle des États; the grand chamber housing the Mona Lisa.

The atmosphere was filled with a steady murmur of conversations and the sound of camera clicks. Barriers wound through the space, directing guests to the tiny, glass-covered artwork located at the front. Jax craned his neck, easily seeing over the crowd with his height advantage.

"We stood in line for that?" he said incredulously, nose wrinkling like an annoyed rabbit. "That’s the size of a poster! That's boring. At least that one–" he pointed toward The Wedding at Cana, the massive masterpiece filling the opposite wall, "–actually looks like it deserves the hype."

Pomni rose slightly onto her toes, trying to see past a wall of shoulders and phones. "I still want to see it," she said softly, her tone more curious than defensive.

Jax paused at her eager tone. After a second, he huffed, "Well…" Jax started, dragging out the word as if surrendering to fate. "It’d be a waste to bail now."

Despite his grumbling, he didn’t move from her side, enduring the crowd only because she wanted to.

When they finally reached the front, the famed painting came into view. The Mona Lisa, small and serene, sealed safely behind glass and surrounded by the flashes of strangers’ cameras. Pomni lifted her phone, snapping a quick photo before simply… looking. The quiet intrigue on her face said more than words.

Jax didn’t even glance at the painting. His gaze stayed on her instead, studying the faint curve of her lips, the reflection of the artwork in her eyes. Somehow, her small expression of wonder felt more valuable than the painted woman behind the glass.

"Who painted this one again?" Jax asked suddenly, head tilted. "Leonardo DiCaprio?"

Pomni exhaled through her nose, pocketing her phone. "Leonardo da Vinci," she corrected, fighting a smile.

"Tomato, tomatoh," Jax said with a wave of his hand, forming a ridiculous duck gesture as they began to move out of the crowded room.

"...It must be nice, isn’t it?" Pomni said after a moment, her voice quiet beneath the resounding chorus of voices from the gallery.

Jax glanced at her curiously, brows quirking. "What is? Being named Leonardo and instantly becoming famous?"

"No," she sighed, a small exasperated puff leaving her lips. Her gaze lingered on the rows of portraits ahead, faces frozen forever in oils and varnish. "I mean... being remembered. Even after you’re gone. Not having your name disappear like it never mattered..." She scratched the back of her neck, suddenly aware of how heavy her words sounded.

Jax blinked, thrown off by the unexpected weight in her tone.

Well. That was deep.

"...I guess," he said finally, eyes flicking to the nearby paintings. The silence that hung between them stretched, accompanied by the faint sound of footsteps in the distance.

And though he hated it, hated how easily his thoughts slipped there, his mind dragged him back to the circus.

"What would you do if I abstracted tomorrow?"

"I’d move on. And probably forget about you."

The memory twisted in his chest, leaving behind something sharp and bitter. Guilt. Regret. Something he refused to name.

He exhaled slowly through his nose. "You talk as if you’re forgettable," he said at last, breaking the silence. "As if you haven’t already infested this one’s–" he pointed at his head "–brain."

Pomni blinked, startled by the honesty hidden under his usual playful tone. "I didn’t know that," she said softly. "I thought you didn’t care."

"Bah." Jax waved it off, though the tips of his ears turned red again. "I was an idiot back then. Don’t listen to anything I said in the past; you should know better by now."

And she did.

She was the only one who’d ever managed to slip past his jokes, chip away at his defenses, and see what was behind "The Funny One’s" archetype he had assigned himself to.

Pomni studied him, expression unreadable.

"What?" he said finally, smirking again to mask the awkward heat rising in his chest. "You planning on becoming the next great artist of the 21st century? I’ll volunteer as tribute. Paint me like one of your French girls."

"Stop it," Pomni broke out laughing, unable to hold it in at his out-of-the-pocket response.

Her laughter filled a small section of the wide marble hall, bright and alive. Her sound was brighter than the golden frames lining the walls.

And for a moment, Jax thought maybe this was what being remembered really meant.

"You’re the one laughing at the idea," Jax told the truth, a grin tugging at his lips.

"I’m laughing at the idea that you think I could actually paint you," Pomni countered.

"Yeah, fair point," he said with pride. "It’d be hard to capture my full glory on canvas. You wouldn’t be able to do me justice."

Pomni rolled her eyes. "Let’s just stick with phones." Before he could react, she lifted hers and snapped a photo. 

"Hey!" Jax lunged forward, hand outstretched. "Did you know taking pictures of someone without consent is creepy?"

"Guess that makes you a creep too," Pomni said smugly, locking her phone screen before he could grab it.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Touché.

Before he could fire back, the faint patter of rain began echoing from above the Cour Marly. It was soft at first, then steadier, raindrops panting the Louvre’s vast glass ceiling.

"Huh." Jax craned his neck upward. A frown on his face.

Pomni followed his gaze. "Oh, uh… we don’t have an umbrella."

"Perfect," he muttered, slumping a little. "Trapped in the world’s biggest art museum during a downpour. Just great."

"Well…" Pomni thought for a moment, "Maybe the gift shop sells umbrellas?" She suggested.

He looked at her, then sighed in defeat. Why didn't he think of that? "Fine. Lead the way, genius."

"I was going to say you lead, but okay."

Jax smiled against his will, placing a hand lightly at the small of her back as they walked toward the direction signs. 

Eventually, they found Boutique du Louvre. Souvenirs decorated the place. They sold books, mugs, keychains, and, thankfully, umbrellas.

Pomni reached for one with a familiar face printed across it. "Well, this is ironic."

Jax grabbed it from her hands, and flicked it open, revealing the Mona Lisa’s ever-smug smile stretched over the fabric. "Aren’t paintings supposed to hate water? This feels… counterproductive."

"Unless you’d rather be soaked, I’d say irony’s our friend today," Pomni said, taking the handle from him and stepping closer to the counter.

"Guess Mona’s finally protecting us for once," Jax murmured, following after her with a half-smile.

Once they stepped out into the rain, Jax held the umbrella and shields the two of them. The gentle rhythm of footsteps filled the gaps among the crowd. In this way, the city felt more tender, both subdued and vibrant simultaneously.

"Where to next?" Pomni asked, her voice almost drowned out by the sound of the rain.

Jax glanced at her from under the Mona Lisa umbrella. "Do you want to head back?"

She thought about his question, before shaking her head, a faint smile forming. "No, not really."

"Then we don’t." He said it so simply, following what she wanted.

Pomni’s smile grew a little. "There’s a cathedral nearby. Want to go visit?" She had done some research and was aware that Notre-Dame was close to the Louvre.

"Why not?" Jax replied with a shrug. 

The stroll from the Louvre to Notre-Dame was peaceful, punctuated only by the sound of their feet on the damp cobblestones. Paris shimmered in the rain and umbrellas opened like flowers throughout the streets, and the soft drone of traffic merging with the whispers of the Seine.

By the time they reached the cathedral, the rain had softened into a misty drizzle. Jax shook the umbrella with a sharp flick, scattering droplets onto the ground.

"Don’t be the reason someone slips," Pomni warned, crossing her arms.

"Not my fault if they don’t look where they’re going," he muttered, folding the umbrella.

Inside Notre-Dame, the atmosphere was calm and cool, with the interior displaying a magnificent gothic style. The lofty arches directed their gaze toward the ceiling.

"I heard this place burned down a few years ago," Pomni said quietly, looking up at the restored stained glass. She recalled news channels covering the story.

"Did it? I must’ve missed that, too busy being stuck in digital hell," Jax said flatly.

Pomni gave him a look. 

"What?" he asked, a wry smile ghosting over his lips. "It’s true." His tone held a flicker of bitterness, but it faded as quickly as it came. "Do you believe in it?"

"In what?" Pomni asked softly.

"You know, something higher up. God, fate, whatever." Jax shrugged.

Pomni tilted her head, thinking. "Mm… fifty-fifty, I guess."

"Explain." Jax shot her a questioning look, wanting to hear her explanation.

"It’s weird," she said, motioning vaguely with her hands. "I mean, you don’t just end up trapped in a digital circus. That’s supposed to be fiction, magic isn’t real. And yet…" She trailed off, glancing around at the cathedral’s glowing stained glass. "Then that happened."

Jax huffed a small laugh. "To be fair, we kind of met God. In the form of a talking AI mouth." He felt the same way she did.

Pomni snorted, "Yeah, you’re right. That’s… actually so weird to think about now..."

"Right?" Jax said with a crooked grin. "I was a periwinkle humanoid rabbit, and now you think it’s weird?"

"No, I thought it was weird before," Pomni said after a beat, her voice low but thoughtful. "But then I guess I got desensitized. And now, now we’re back in the real world. Actual humans, not digital avatars." She looked down at herself; she wasn’t in a red-and-blue jester's costume, not anymore. "It kind of makes my world shake." She said that last part quietly.

Jax tilted his head, watching her expression soften. "...To be fair, you were probably the most human-looking one out of all of us, well, besides the ragdoll."

Pomni huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah, but still. I didn’t think I’d ever actually see what you looked like as a human."

"Oh?" Jax’s smile reappeared, lively and mischievous. "You were curious, huh? Do tell."

Pomni leaned away slightly, narrowing her eyes. "It’s only natural to be curious about what the rest of you look like, especially you. Since we barely knew anything about you. Not even about your past before the circus."

"I already told you," Jax began dramatically, "after my lung cancer diagnosis--"

Pomni blinked. "That’s literally Breaking Bad!"

He clicked his tongue. "Fine, fine, I won’t tell you then."

Pomni stared, before huffing, "Don’t worry," she countered smoothly, "I’ll find out soon enough." She said with a small grin.

"Confident, are we?" Jax's tone was one of intrigue, as if her promise to try and decode him was amusing. Didn't he say before he wasn't a chicken fetus in an egg that needed to be cracked open?

"Very," his girlfriend replied, crossing her arms and letting her eyes half-close. She looked at him not like a puzzle to be solved, but one to be understood.

"I’ll look forward to watching you try," Jax said, leaning closer, his grin growing lazy and dangerous. "Though it ranks a close second to our date later."

Pomni flushed, shoving his face away with the heel of her palm. "Yeah, yeah, don’t push it."

He chuckled under his breath, stepping back. Outside, the rain had stopped entirely; mild sunlight began to pierce through the heavy clouds. They stayed for a couple more minutes before Jax finally spoke up.

"Oh, by the way," Jax said, straightening his coat, tone suddenly lighter. "I’ve got one more place in mind before we head back."

Pomni turned to him, she didn't know Jax had anything planned something. There was a tone of intrigue lighting her tired eyes. "Where?"

Jax only grinned mysteriously, "You’ll see." She wasn’t the only one who had done her fair share of research.

And that’s how they ended up at the Pont de l’Archevêché, a quiet bridge arching over the Seine. Nobody was around, probably because it had only stopped raining.

Pomni blinked at the empty rails. "What's this?" She glanced at Jax with a curious look.

"A bridge," Jax said, feigning seriousness before smirking. "But most famously known as the Love Lock Bridge. Romantic, huh?"

Pomni glanced around, brows furrowing. "I don’t see any locks."

"Well, yeah, they banned that," Jax clicked his tongue. "Too much weight, apparently." He briefly gave her the Mona Lisa umbrella, which she accepted without protest.

"Then why–" she began, only to stop when he pulled something small and metallic from his pocket.

"Is that why you brought a lock?!" It finally clicked in her head. 

"Duh." His grin widened, boyish and unrepentant, and so unbelievably Jax.

"But you just said it’s banned."

"We’re not putting it on the bridge, chill," Jax said, waving a hand. "This is a symbolic gesture. No environmental damage, no government chase. Win-win."

Pomni shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "You’re not serious." The thought of Jax doing something so sweet made Pomni feel incredibly warm.

"And yet you love it. Now, here’s the deal," Jax said, handing her the lock and marker. "You put your initials first. Then I’ll add mine. We’ll keep it instead of tossing the key into the river, less pollution, same sentiment."

Pomni took the lock and marker carefully, with the folded umbrella resting on her wrist. For a moment, she stared at it, the metal cool and heavy against her palm, then murmured, "...Do I put Pomni, or... Christine?"

That caught him off guard. Jax hesitated, gazing at her as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Do whatever." he replied, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. "But if you're asking me, I'd go with Christine." Then quietly, he said, "C."

She nodded, lips pressed together, and wrote the letter with slow precision. Then she held it out for him.

Jax took the marker and added a neat "+ F," clicking the lock shut with finality.

He turned it over in his hand, inspecting the tiny engraving under. "Well," he said, slipping it into his pocket, "looks like you’re tied to me forever."

He grinned, adding. "Guess that elderly couple from yesterday were prophets."

Pomni leaned her elbows against the railing, watching the river move beneath them. "This isn’t a ring, you know."

"Same thing, honestly."

They stood next to each other, hands on the cool iron railing, listening to the soft flow of the Seine below.

"...We should probably get going soon," Pomni said after a quiet moment. "It’ll take a while to get ready for tonight. Hair and all that."

Jax looked at her with a quick and mischievous smile. "Oh hoh, what’s this? Once again, I have to ask, what are your intentions with me?" Yep, he was fucking with her.

Pomni met his teasing with a straight face, though a faint blush gave her away. "To make our first official fancy date special," she said simply.

For once, Jax blinked, caught off guard by her sincerity. The corner of his mouth softened into something almost shy before he leaned back against the railing with a chuckle. "Well, can’t let you steal all the thunder," he murmured. "Guess I’ll just have to actually try this time."

"You better," Pomni said, pretending to scold. "I’d rather not have us kicked out for your usual antics."

Jax laughed, pushing himself upright as she straightened from the railing. "As if."

"So," she said, glancing up at him with that quiet determination in her eyes, "shall we?"

"Mhm," he nodded, walking alongside her. "And this time, we’re taking a taxi. Much faster."

Pullman Hotel Tour Eiffel, Paris, France

Night had fallen, and with it came the soft embrace of Nyx, her dark shroud blanketing the City of Love. The warm light of Paris sparkled through the hotel’s large windows, each glimmer resembling a faraway star.

Inside the bathroom, Pomni stood before the mirror, the gentle hum of a curling iron filling the room. She wrapped another strand of brown hair around the barrel, waiting a few seconds before releasing it, soft, romantic curls fell neatly into place against her shoulders. On the sink counter, there was a collection of beauty products: a bottle of perfume, a set of pearl earrings sparkling next to a delicate silver necklace, and cosmetics palettes neatly lined up.

It wasn’t often she dressed up, hardly ever, in fact. Her usual days were spent buried in spreadsheets and invoices, with her hair pulled back in a tired bun and dark circles testifying to long hours and too much coffee. But tonight… tonight wasn’t about exhaustion or numbers.

Tonight was special.

She knew Jax was in the main room, probably fixing his tie or pretending not to care as much as he actually did. Neither of them said it out loud, but they both knew, they wanted the first look to count.

Pomni took a step back from the mirror, her reflection almost startling her. It felt like she was staring at someone else entirely. The woman in the reflection wore a red dress that hugged her form just enough to be elegant without being too bold, the hem brushing just above her knees.

Her heart fluttered. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, not even from herself.

She bent down, eyeing the pair of black heels waiting beneath the sink. The sight made her grimace. She’d sworn off heels ever since the wedding incident, a memory best left buried, but it seemed unavoidable tonight. With a small sigh of defeat, she slipped them on. They pinched slightly, but she had to admit, they did make her legs look… nice. And at least she’d stand a few inches taller next to him.

After fastening her earrings and clasping the necklace around her neck, she gave herself one last look in the mirror. "Hm. Decent," she murmured, though the corners of her lips lifted, betraying the pride she tried to hide.

Then, as if on cue, Jax’s earlier words echoed in her mind: ‘What’s your intention with me?’

Her face turned scarlet in an instant. "Nothing," she muttered to her reflection, fumbling with her vanity pouch. "I just want us to have a nice time. That’s all."

Still, as she caught sight of her reflection again, the red dress, the curls, the faint sparkle of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel like she was lying just a little.

She buried her face in her hands, groaning softly. "Ugh!"

The faint sound of laughter from the next room told her he might’ve heard.

She huffed, patting her cheeks lightly to ease the heat rising under her skin. "Okay, Pomni," she whispered to herself. "Breathe."

A deep inhale. A slower exhale.

She mentally reviewed the night’s plan: they’d head out, take a taxi to Les Ombres, since Le 10e Ciel, the hotel’s rooftop restaurant, had been fully booked. Dinner, the view, the Eiffel Tower lighting up against the night sky… and then back. Simple. Manageable.

She could handle this.

After a final touch of perfume at her wrist and neck, the faint floral scent trailing through the air, Pomni called out, "Jax? Are you ready?"

"Yeah," came his voice from the other side of the door, steady and casual. He was annoyingly calm. Or at least, that's what she thought.

She wasn’t calm. Not even close. Why was her heart beating like she was about to give a speech in front of a thousand people?

Taking one more deep breath, she turned the handle and stepped out. The soft click of her heels echoed against the polished hotel floor, then stopped altogether as soon as her eyes landed on him.

Jax stood near the window, the warm city light filtering behind him. He wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just past his forearms, a loose black tie hanging comfortably around his neck, and a fitted suit jacket that made him look, well, irritatingly good.

Pomni blinked once. Then again.

She wasn’t the only one staring.

Jax’s usual grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a quiet, surprised look when he saw her. His eyes trailed from her curled hair to the red dress that caught the light every time she moved.

"...When did you even pack that?" she asked, crossing her arms with forced nonchalance. "Weren’t I the one who folded your things?"

"I snuck it in after, alongside the padlock." he admitted, still looking at her. His voice had gone just slightly lower.

Pomni raised an eyebrow, though the corner of her mouth tugged upward. "Sneaky."

"Look," he said, recovering quickly with a teasing smirk, "you just beat me to it by asking first. Guess you were really eager, huh?"

"Hey–" she started, but her voice caught mid-protest when he leaned slightly closer.

"Anyway," Jax said, his tone dropping into something a little too casual, "you’re uh…" He gestured vaguely at her, eyes flicking down and then back up.

Pomni tilted her head, already blushing even though he hadn't said anything. "I’m what?"

He blinked. "...Red."

For a heartbeat, the world went silent.

Pomni groaned, covering her face with one hand. "That’s your big line? Red?"

Jax grinned, clearly enjoying himself again. "What? Accurate, isn’t it?"

"Accurate doesn’t mean romantic," she muttered, though her face only grew redder, the color he had so accurately pointed out.

"And besides," Pomni added softly, glancing down at the hem of her dress, "it is my favorite color."

Jax’s gaze lingered for a moment before he replied, "You chose a good favorite color."

Pomni snorted, brushing a loose curl from her cheek. "You don’t look half bad yourself. You actually clean up well."

He shot her an exaggeratedly offended look. "Actually? Excuse me, I just hold back most of the time because I know how many people would die to see me in a suit." His grin flickered as he glanced off to the side, somewhere past her. Directly at you.

Pomni blinked, following his line of sight. "Uh… what are you looking at?"

"Nothing." He waved a hand quickly, recovering his composure and stepping closer, a touch of swagger returning to his posture. "So, this is what you were planning?"

"Yes?" she said, the single word laced with hesitation. "Do you… like it?"

Jax tilted his head, voice dipping low. "I think you already know the answer to that question."

Then, his eyes flicked down. "Though I thought you swore off heels."

"I did," Pomni admitted, shifting her balance slightly. "But they’re the only thing that matched this dress."

"And your hair?"

Pomni’s heart skipped. She glanced away, pretending to fuss with her hair. "I thought you said you liked it down," she mumbled.

"I did," he admitted without missing a beat. "Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me though."

"Well, you said it looked better that way." Pomni said shyly.

A silence settled between them, thick and awkward, yet oddly comfortable. Both looked away at the same time, their faces betraying the warmth they were trying to hide.

Jax exhaled, glaring at the white hotel wall as if it had personally wronged him. "Really…" he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

Pomni cleared her throat, desperately trying to smooth over the rising tension. "Well, we should probably get going," she said quickly, brushing past him to grab her bag from the bed. "Taxi, dinner, Eiffel Tower. Let’s stick to the plan, yeah?"

Jax turned just in time to see her framed against the open curtains, city lights spilling across the room. The Eiffel Tower shimmered faintly in the distance behind her, a preview of the night to come.

He smiled faintly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah," he said, looking away again, "wouldn’t wanna miss our spot."

Soft clinks of fine china and glass mingled with the low hum of conversation, weaving a gentle symphony on the rooftop restaurant they were dining in.

Pomni and Jax were seated quickly, thanks to their reservation, and from where they sat, the city stretched endlessly below them. At night, Paris was a completely different story; it had the romantic appearance of one of those nostalgic rom-coms.

Pomni lifted her phone and took a quiet picture of the view, her reflection faintly caught in the glass of the screen. Jax, seated across from her, was too busy looking over the city to notice.

"When does the Tower sparkle, anyway?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"After the hour ends," Pomni replied, lowering her phone. The lock screen flashed for a second before dimming again, her background unmistakably a photo of him.

Jax’s mouth curled slightly. "Hm. You gonna post any of those photos you’ve been taking?" He rested his chin lazily on one hand, eyes glinting with curiosity.

"Maybe," Pomni admitted. "There’s been a big gap on my feed since I… disappeared. It’d be nice to have some normalcy again." She turned her gaze down to her glass of water, watching her reflection ripple.

"How about you?" she asked, glancing back up.

"Maybe," he said after a pause, his smirk returning. "Half of my friends still think I ghosted them. It’s been years." Then, his grin widened. "I’ll make you my first post."

"Don’t be ridiculous." Pomni said in disbelief.

"An unflattering one, too," he added with mock seriousness.

"Please don't."

He chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I’m kidding. You know I can’t take bad photos."

"I don’t believe that for a second," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You’ll have to let me see your ‘Pomni folder.’"

"Aw, trust issues already?" he said with mock hurt. "Fine. You can look later."

"You’re just going to delete all the bad ones first." Pomni accused.

"Nope," he said, popping the p with a grin.

Pomni rolled her eyes, though the corners of her lips betrayed a smile. The ease between them was warm and effortless. She shifted in her seat, fingers absently toying with her necklace.

Then, Jax spoke again, quieter this time and hard to catch, but intentional for her to hear. "Still… you look beautiful, Christine." 

For a moment, even the city seemed to still. The air between them grew thick and tender, the chatter around them fading into something distant and unimportant.

Pomni blinked, caught off guard. Her heartbeat fluttered against her ribs, the warmth creeping all the way up her neck. "Ah, well… thank you."

He hadn’t needed to say it. But he did. And hearing it out loud made her pulse race in ways she didn’t expect.

After a heartbeat, she tried to steady her voice. "...Was that your way of catching me off guard?"

Jax smiled faintly, a spark in his eyes. "Nah," he said. "I’ll do that later."

Pomni stared, her blush deepening.

What does that even mean?!

"Okay…" Pomni dragged the word, trying to steady the heat rising in her chest. She cleared her throat and offered a small, shy smile. "Well, you look handsome yourself, Felix."

Jax raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Ah, so we’re on a real-name basis now?"

"You’re the one who started it," she countered, folding her arms but failing to hide the grin tugging at her lips.

"You’re the one who’s complimented me twice tonight," he bantered, putting two fingers up.

"Yeah, because it’s true!" She stood up for herself. Besides, he was obviously having fun.

"And? So was what I said." 

Pomni squinted, trying to discern if he was lying or not. "What about that blackmail stuff you mentioned earlier, huh?" She brought up.

"You think I’d actually keep blackmail photos of my girlfriend?"

"You literally said so yourself!" She reminded, and honestly, she wouldn't put it past him.

"I was kidding," Jax threw his arms up, though the smirk on his face betrayed him.

Pomni pursed her lips, uncertain whether to believe him. "Mm-hmm. Sureee."

Before he could fire back, a soft voice interrupted, laced with a French accent. "Excuse me."

Both looked up to see a server standing politely beside their table, holding a gentle smile.

"Yes?" Pomni asked, blinking up at her, while Jax tilted his head, curious.

"Would you like a picture?" the server asked, miming the click of a camera.

Pomni hesitated, her gaze flicking to Jax, who, without missing a beat, grinned and said, "Sure." He grabbed Pomni’s phone before she could protest, handing it over instead of his own.

"Why’d you do that?" Pomni asked, brow arching as he stood and moved closer, adjusting his chair so their shoulders brushed.

"Didn’t you say you wanted to post something?" Jax said simply, tone light but sincere; he was giving her material to work with afterwards.

Her heart skipped. "Oh. Right…"

The server gestured for them to get ready. Under the table, Pomni reached out, hesitant at first, and brushed her fingers against his hand before intertwining them. The warmth there grounded her.

And right on cue, the Eiffel Tower behind them erupted into a shimmer of golden light. The entire rooftop seemed to pause in collective awe; laughter and conversation faded as dozens of faces turned to the spectacle. But for them, the rest of the world blurred out.

Click.

The photo was taken.

Jax accepted the phone from the server with a brief thanks, glancing down at the screen. His grin softened. "Aren’t you lucky," he murmured, tilting it for her to see. "The Eiffel lit up just for you."

Pomni leaned in to look, her smile quiet but full. "You mean for us?"

He glanced at her again, voice low and teasing but warm in its honesty. "Yeah," he said. "But more so for you."

Pomni fiddled with her fingers, eyes tracing the rim of her glass before she finally murmured, almost to herself, "You know… you’re being awfully romantic tonight." Her voice was soft, as if she were confessing a secret rather than making an observation.

Jax tilted his head, feigning offense as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossing casually. "Did you think I was incapable of being romantic?"

"No, I just…" She paused, searching for the right words. Her cheeks warmed slightly as she admitted, "I like it."

Jax’s usual grin softened, replaced with something gentler, genuine curiosity, even admiration. "Well, this is our first official fancy date," he said after a moment. "Figured it should be something special."

He said it so simply, yet it carried a weight that made Pomni’s chest tighten. He really had been listening to every little thing she’d said.

Their food arrived not long after, the fragrant aroma of Parisian cuisine filling the air. The server placed a beautifully plated salmon dish in front of Pomni, glazed and tender, drizzled with a rich creamy sauce; while Jax’s plate came with a swirl of spaghetti garnished with delicate green leaves.

Jax twirled his fork with practiced ease, the motion lazy but graceful. "You know," he mused, "nothing really beats a good plate of spaghetti."

Pomni chuckled, cutting into her salmon. "I’ll have to disagree. Salmon’s better."

Jax sighed dramatically, pressing a hand over his heart. "A shame," he said with mock sorrow. "We could’ve been pasta soulmates."

"Guess you’ll just have to settle for fish instead."

Jax grinned, lowering his fork. "Lucky me, then."

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the soft clink of utensils mixing with the quiet hum of distant conversation. Pomni took her time, savoring the taste of real salmon. Not the strange, textureless food Bubble used to make back in the circus. Every bite reminded her just how far she’d come from that strange digital world.

"You know," Jax began, twirling his fork idly as he studied her, "I never thought I’d see you like this."

Pomni glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Like what? In a dress? You’ve seen me in one before, at the wedding, remember?"

He shook his head, leaning back. "No. Like this," he gestured vaguely, eyes sweeping over her before meeting her gaze again. "Actually showing off."

Pomni’s fork paused midair. "I am not showing off," she said, cheeks beginning to flush.

"Oh, you so are," Jax said easily, resting his chin in his hand, the smirk in his voice impossible to miss. "It’s fine to admit it, Pomni. Confidence looks good on you, always has."

"You’re enjoying this," Pomni realized, staring at him in disbelief.

"Wasn’t that obvious?" he said, reaching across the table to toy with a lock of her curled hair. "I see through you more than you think. Are you actually trying to sedu–"

"I am not!" she cut him off, stabbing a piece of salmon perhaps a little too aggressively.

"Whatever you say, mon amour," Jax replied without missing a beat, grin widening.

"You are so–" Pomni took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. "Okay. That’s how it is."

"Oh?"

She leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with mock challenge. "If you think I’m trying to ‘seduce’ you"–she added air quotes–"then does that mean it’s working?"

That shut Jax up. 

His mouth opened, then closed again, expression flickering between surprise and amusement.

Pomni took a slow sip of her wine, pretending not to notice the faint pink in his ears. "We’re ridiculous," she said at last, laughing quietly.

"Excuse you," Jax said with mock indignation, raising his glass and taking a big sip. "I’m amazing. Don’t drag me down with you."

Pomni shook her head, still smiling. "Don’t drink too much."

"...Why?" he squinted at her suspiciously.

"You have low alcohol tolerance," she said matter-of-factly. She'd realized that during the bar segment back then.

"I do not. I can hold my alcohol perfectly fine." Jax was fully offended; he wanted to prove her wrong. 

"Whatever you say," Pomni replied, voice teasing. "But I’m still keeping an eye on you."

"Okay, Momni," he said instantly.

"Stop that." 

"Alright, mon ami," Jax grinned, the term’s irony not lost on either of them.

As much as Pomni sighed or told him to stop with his antics, she couldn’t deny it, he was fun to be around.

Jax was her thrill.

The unpredictable current in her otherwise predictable, carefully measured world. The pulse of adrenaline she’d been chasing when she used to sneak into abandoned buildings, flashlight in hand, just to feel something.

Maybe that was why she’d always insisted on being near him, back then and even now. Whether as a friend or a lover. He understood her in a way that wasn’t blurred by affection or idealization. No rose-tinted lenses, no pedestal. Just her.

She wondered, absently, what she looked like from his point of view.

The thought lingered until his voice gently broke through it.

"What’re you thinking about?" Jax asked, his tone curious but softer than usual. His eyes studied her expression, one she hadn’t realized had softened into something wistful.

Pomni blinked, suddenly aware she’d been staring off into nothing. "Hm?"

He leaned a little closer, smirk tugging at his lips but not quite reaching his eyes. "What’s going on inside that brain of yours?"

Pomni hesitated. Normally, she’d say it was nothing; but tonight, with the Eiffel Tower glittering faintly behind him and the soft hum of Paris around them, honesty felt like the easiest thing in the world.

"Just… reflecting," she said finally, voice quiet but steady. "On how much you mean to me."

That made him pause.

Jax turned his head slightly, as if trying to hide the way his expression faltered. His brow furrowed, not in irritation, but in some strange, tangled emotion that looked a lot like disbelief trying to mask itself as annoyance.

"You…" He cleared his throat, looking away. "You don’t just say that kind of thing."

"Why not?" Pomni smiled, leaning her chin on her hand. "You asked."

He made a low noise, half-sigh, half-grumble. "Maybe my question was supposed to be a hypothetical one."

Pomni tilted her head, eyes gleaming in amusement. "Nothing’s ever hypothetical with you, Felix."

That earned her a quiet laugh. Jax looked back at her then, still flustered, still trying to keep up the pretense, but his gaze lingered longer than before.

"I still don’t understand why you would choose me."

The words slipped from Jax suddenly, quiet and almost too soft to fit his usual tone. Pomni blinked, surprised by the vulnerability hidden behind them.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He leaned back in his chair, scowling at the air more than at her. "About everything. Choosing to talk to me. Choosing to stick around. I’m not–" his jaw tightened, "–I’m not a good person, you know that."

She did. She remembered the cruelty he showed back then—the way he toyed with Gangle’s fear, mocked Ragatha’s kindness. He had been reckless, mean, and distant. A sharp edge in a place already full of pain.

"I’m not going to deny that last part," Pomni said gently but firmly.

"I’m not asking you to make excuses for me." His voice was flat, but his eyes flickered briefly toward her before darting away again.

"Good. Because I’m not," she replied, a faint, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "But I can tell you why I chose you."

He snorted. "Oh, here we go."

"I chose you because you’re not like me."

"Ha. No kidding," Jax said, smirking faintly. "You’re you, I’m me. Complete disaster of a pair."

Pomni raised an eyebrow. "You can’t push me out. Not again."

"I’m not trying to," he muttered after a moment. Then, quieter, "I don’t think I’d let myself, even if I wanted to." He remembered their falling out and how miserable it made him.

"That’s a good thing in my book."

Jax exhaled slowly, tapping a finger against his glass. "Alright, then. Go on. Why me?"

Pomni hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the dark Eiffel Tower in the distance. "It’s silly," she admitted, "but you made me feel more… alive."

He blinked, expression unreadable.

"You push me out of my comfort zone all the time," she continued. "And I should hate that, but I don’t. You make things real. You make me want to move, to try, to live. I don’t think I need someone who mirrors me; I think I need someone who challenges me. Someone who…" she swallowed, cheeks warm, "who helps me grow."

Silence fell. Jax didn’t move, didn’t even blink. He just stared at her like he was trying to memorize every word.

"...Too much?" she asked softly, meeting his zoned-out gaze.

He exhaled, long and shaky. "You’re fucking stupid," he said bluntly.

"Hey, what–" Pomni said, caught off guard.

"You think you need me to flourish?" His voice cracked slightly, like emotion had pushed through the cracks in his composure. He looked away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I need you to live."

Pomni froze.

Jax ran a hand through his hair, his words spilling faster now, heavy and unfiltered. "God, I know I’m an asshole; but you make me feel things." His voice trembled on the edge of something vulnerable. "You make my heart race like I’m on my motorcycle going way too fast, like I’m about to crash and I don’t even care. You make me aware that I’m human again. That I’m here, not stuck in that damn circus anymore. You make me feel guilty, because for once, I actually care about how I’ve treated people."

His throat tightened. He pressed his palms flat against the table, breathing slow but uneven.

"I listen to you," he continued, softer now, almost a whisper. "I remember every word, every look, every stupid thing you say because–because you’re you. You make me feel selfishly happy just because you chose me, out of everyone. Even after everything I’ve done."

Pomni could only stare at him, eyes wide, the weight of his confession settling in her chest.

He looked at her then, truly looked at her, as if searching for the right word, something to capture everything he couldn’t say.

"You’re just…" he started, but stopped himself, shaking his head faintly.

Then, with a rugged exhale, he said, "You."

And somehow, that said everything.

"Jax. Felix–" Pomni’s voice faltered. She didn’t even know where she was going with that, what she could possibly say after hearing something so raw. Her throat felt tight, and her heart was racing so fast it almost hurt. She could still feel the weight of his words hanging between them, heavy, sincere, electric.

Jax leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping low, rough around the edges. "Christine," he said, using her real name like it meant something sacred. "Do you even know what you do to me?"

Pomni blinked, breath catching in her chest. The way he said it, it wasn’t teasing this time. It wasn’t part of one of his usual antics. He meant it.

"W-well," she stammered, managing a trembling smile, "I think I have an idea now."

Jax huffed softly, leaning closer, his elbows resting on the table. "An idea only?" His eyes flickered down to her lips before locking back onto hers, sharp and unflinching.

Pomni swallowed. "Okay," she whispered, her grin small but real. "Maybe more than an idea."

He scoffed faintly. "You see? I told you my brain was infested."

She bit her tinted lip, trying to hold back a laugh. "You weren’t kidding about that, huh?" Her heart was still beating unnaturally fast from how intense it all was.

"No," Jax said simply, relaxing back again in seat. "Not even a little."

"Well… uh, sorry?" she offered, though the tone of her voice betrayed her, she didn’t sound sorry at all.

Jax tilted his head, a knowing look on his face. "Are you really?"

"...No," Pomni admitted, cheeks warm. "Not really." She told him honestly.

Being told how much she meant to him, how deeply he felt was overwhelming, but also… nice. In a way she didn’t want to think too hard about it.

Jax sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair and staring up at the night sky beyond the glass rooftop. "Ugh. Paris should be investigated," he muttered. "There’s something in the air here."

Pomni tilted her head. "You mean love?"

"Yes, love," Jax grumbled, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "It’s the City of Love. Love, love, love."

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked, resting her chin on her hand.

"It is when it makes my head a jumbled mess," he said, turning his gaze back toward her. The corner of his mouth curved up. "You make me go crazy."

Pomni smiled, light and amused. "I’m half-crazy, then?"

He leaned back in his chair, grin widening. "All for the love of you."

They caught each other’s gaze, and for a moment, neither said anything. Then both broke into quiet, breathless laughter, the kind that slipped out naturally after too much emotion and too much honesty. 

By the time they finally rose from their seats, dinner had long been finished. Servers moved around them with quiet efficiency, clearing plates and empty glasses, leaving only the faint scent of wine and the delicate hum of conversation in the air. But Pomni and Jax didn’t leave yet. Instead, they drifted toward the balcony, drawn by the open night and the view waiting beyond the glass.

Jax stretched, hands raised above his head before dropping lazily back into his pockets. "That was good, actually," he said, scratching at his hair with a satisfied sigh.

Pomni smiled beside him. "I think that set the standard," she said, looking over the glittering city below. Reflecting the golden lights strewn all over Paris, the Seine meandered through the city like a gray ribbon.

"Pfft, please." Jax smirked. "We can easily top that. How about an abandoned building for our next date?"

Pomni blinked, caught between surprise and delight. "Wait, really?" Her eyes lit up like stars.

"Yeah," Jax said, shrugging casually. "Sounds fun. Though this time," he added, grimacing, "no headsets. I’m not doing that again."

Pomni snorted. "Yeah... agreed." Just the thought sent her mind flashing back to that nightmarish circus and both shuddered in perfect unison.

"Enough about that," Jax said, waving a hand as though brushing off an insect. "We left that world behind. Let’s keep it that way."

Pomni leaned on the railing, elbows resting against the cool metal. "So what do we do now?" she asked.

"We wait for the Eiffel Tower to light up again," Jax said simply, eyes fixed on the landmark’s silhouette in the distance.

Pomni glanced at her phone. "Only a couple more minutes, then," she murmured. "Why not?"

And so they stood there, side by side, the wind brushing gently against their faces. 

Pomni watched the skyline, her heart heavy and light all at once. "You know," she said softly, "I kinda don’t want this night to end." She admitted.

Jax hummed beside her, not looking away from the horizon. "Hm?"

"Everything just… feels right," Pomni said, her voice almost a whisper. "Not that it doesn’t usually, but… tonight’s different."

Jax glanced at her, then his expression softened. He didn’t joke or tease this time. "I get it," he said, quietly.

He turned his gaze back toward the city, the wind ruffling his hair. "But don’t worry," he added after a moment, his tone warm with quiet confidence. "This won’t be the last time."

Once again, the Eiffel Tower began to sparkle, thousands of lights cascading over the steel like falling stars. Pomni stood still, entranced, the wind toying with her hair and the hem of her dress as if inviting her to dance with the night itself.

She turned slightly, expecting to find Jax watching the view, but instead caught him watching her.

"Jax," she said softly, a shy note in her voice. "You’re not even looking at the view."

"It’s not the thing that’s holding my attention," he replied, stepping closer.

Before she could respond, he reached up, brushing his thumb gently against the corner of her lips. "...You have sauce," he murmured.

Pomni blinked, then laughed nervously. "Oh. Oops?"

Jax only sighed, though there was the faintest curve of a smile tugging at his lips. His hand didn’t move away. His thumb still lingered there, resting against her soft skin.

"...Jax?" she asked, meeting his gaze. She knew what was about to happen, or at least, she hoped she did. And by the look in his eyes, he knew too.

"I know," he said quietly, answering a question she hadn’t asked aloud.

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t hurried or uncertain. It was steady, deliberate, and warm. A wordless confession sealed in contact. His hands settled at her waist, drawing her closer, while her fingers clutched the lapel of his jacket as though anchoring herself to something real. The world seemed to tip slightly, the glow of the city blurring behind them.

Pomni's eyes remained half-closed, her breathing was delicate, and her heart was too full to speak when they finally parted.

"...Are you sure that wasn’t a little too cliché for you?" she asked, voice low and amused.

"I like clichés when they’re like this," he said, leaning in just enough to brush another kiss against her lips.

She laughed quietly, her heart beating fast. "I’ve been dying to do that since earlier," Jax admitted when they finally separated again.

"Was this what you meant when you said you’d catch me off guard?" she asked.

"Yeah."

Pomni laughed again, pressing her face briefly against his chest. He felt her shoulders shake with quiet joy, and when she looked up again her cheeks were pink, eyes bright and there was nothing left to hide.

"I love you, Felix," she said simply.

For a moment, he just looked at her. Then he smiled, soft and real.

"Yeah," he said, his voice quieter now. "I love you too, Christine."

Soon enough, they left the rooftop restaurant behind. The clinking of glasses and soft murmur of conversations faded into the distance.

Every stride Pomni took echoed softly in the street noise, her heels clicking rhythmically on the pavement.

"I’m not used to seeing you this tall," Jax commented, his tone lazy. "I mean, you’re not tall, tall, but you’re not as short either."

He passed his hand lightly over the top of her head, then brought it down to his chest as if to measure the difference. "See? You’re chest-level now. Progress."

"That’s what heels do," Pomni deadpanned, wrapping her arms around herself as the night wind swept through the street.

Before she could complain again, a warm weight settled around her shoulders. She blinked and looked down, Jax’s suit jacket now hung loosely over her frame, heavy and soft. It smelled faintly of cedar and spice.

"...You didn’t have to," she said quietly.

"Exactly," he replied, hands sliding into his pockets with a small shrug.

She looked at him for a moment longer, his face half-lit by the glow of a nearby streetlamp, his usual smile barely visible. Then she pulled the jacket closer, clutching it tight.

"Your cologne is overpowering," she said absently, inhaling the faint scent again.

"That just means I have good taste," he said smugly.

"Sure…" Pomni murmured, lips curving slightly. "I like it."

"What, the scent?"

"No." She looked up at him, eyes soft. "You. You taking care of me."

He froze for a moment, the air suddenly heavier. His girl, it seemed, really liked him caught off-guard. He cleared his throat, "Yeah, well, I’m trying. So you better appreciate it." Despite his indifferent tone, his ears' slight flush betrayed him.

They walked on, hands brushing occasionally, talking about everything and nothing, what to bring home for the others, which place they should visit tomorrow, whether French coffee actually lived up to its reputation.

The cobblestone streets, however, were less kind. Paris might have been the City of Love, but its streets were a battlefield for anyone in heels. Pomni muttered something under her breath as her ankle twisted slightly.

"I knew I should’ve sworn off heels forever," she grumbled, shifting her weight.

"You could walk barefoot," Jax suggested, hands in pockets, pretending to sound helpful.

"I’m not doing that!" Pomni said, appalled.

"Come on, it wouldn’t even be the craziest thing people have seen around here."

"I’d like to preserve what little dignity I have left, thank you." Pomni said primly, smiling despite herself.

"You’re losing your mysterious aura right now," he made fun of her.

Pomni shot him a playful glare, and before she could say anything else, Jax grinned ferally, and said, "Okay, fine. Guess I’ll just have to do this to save you from public embarrassment."

"What–wait–" Pomni barely got the words out before he hooked his arms behind her thighs and lifted her clean off the ground.

"Jax! Put me down–you absolute–!" she sputtered, pressing her hands against his chest, trying to sound annoyed but failing as laughter slipped through.

"I’m saving you," he said in a solemn heroic tone. "It’s my chivalrous duty."

"You’re making a scene!" she hissed, realizing people were looking, but the laughter on her lips refused to fade.

"A romantic scene," Jax added. "And I thought you liked being taken care of?"

Pomni gave him a look that was half scandalized, half affectionate. "You’re impossible."

"Unexpected," he corrected, grinning as he adjusted his hold on her. "Gotta keep things interesting."

Pomni sighed, but her arms looped naturally around his shoulders.

"Then consider me interested," she said quietly.

"You are so corny," Jax said flatly, though the way his arms tightened around her betrayed him. His voice might’ve dripped with sarcasm, but his hold was warm and secure. Possessive in the gentlest way.

"‘Corny?’" Pomni echoed, pretending to be offended. "What–are you scared of me now?" she asked playfully, eyes gleaming mischievously as she referenced his infamous fear of corn.

Jax gave her a sharp look that was more amused than anything. "See what I mean? That’s exactly the problem."

"Says the one who’s been pulling every cliché in the romance handbook tonight." Pomni responded with a proudly raised chin.

"You’re an active participant in those clichés!" Jax argued back.

"You too! So don’t go blaming me for your cheesy behavior!" Pomni flicked his chest lightly, the gesture more affectionate than scolding.

He glanced down at her, lips twisting into a slow, dangerous grin. "You’re feisty."

"You like it," her eyes narrowed as she shot back. "Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you favored my Evil Twin back then."

"Whaat?" Jax's eyes widened as he stretched the word out. "She was cool!"

"You liked an NPC better than the actual person!"

"Oh, please, look who’s talking!" he said, voice rising with exaggerated disbelief. "What was his name again? Gummy... worm? You literally had a crush on him!"

"I did not!" Pomni defended herself, cheeks flushing in protest. Gummigoo was her friend, thank you very much; she did not have a crush on him! She was just attached!

"Did too!" Jax exclaimed. "You were practically drooling over him during Spudy’s!"

"I was not drooling!" she insisted desperately.

"You were literally crawling all over the floor!" Jax accused in a tone that was simultaneously triumphant and incredulous.

Pomni gawked at him. "How did you even–weren’t you too busy complaining back then?!"

"Aha! So you don’t deny it." His smug, self-satisfied smile grew as if he had just won a grand debate and her humiliation was the prize.

Pomni’s face burned hotter in mortification. "I have the right to remain silent.”

"This is France, not America," Jax stated, leaning in closer, still carrying her with infuriating ease, their faces only inches apart.

Pomni's eyes flicked down from his eyes to his lips. Then, without warning, she stole a kiss.

"Hey–"

And then another.

"Wow, you are really eager tonight," Jax said, blinking in disbelief, though the red in his face betrayed him immediately.

"Are you complaining?" Her voice was soft but daring.

"I said no such thing." His smirk returned just before he leaned in to match her energy, returning the kiss without hesitation.

Pomni laughed breathlessly against his mouth. "Everyone can see us, you know."

"You’re the one who started it," Jax retorted, squinting his eyes mockingly.

Her lips quirked as she tilted her head. "And we can continue it if you just walk faster."

…

Well. No need to tell Jax twice.

"You made the right call booking a restaurant this close to the hotel," he mumbled as he quickened his pace, turning a corner with her still in his arms.

"That wasn’t my intention," Pomni said between laughs. "I wanted a good view of the Eiffel Tower."

Jax glanced down at her, smiling like the cat that got the cream. "Two things can be true at once."

And once the hotel came into view, Pomni gave his chest a few firm pats. "Okay, seriously, let me down."

Jax didn’t even hesitate. "Nah." He refused, he didn't even slow down his stride.

"What–"

"Let them see," he said, grinning like a maniac, clearly thrilled by the attention.

Pomni’s voice jumped an octave. "Are you serious?!"

He only laughed, completely unbothered as he strode through the front entrance. The lobby’s warm lights reflected off the marble floor, and a couple of guests turned their heads. The security guards exchanged a knowing glance, but wisely said nothing.

By the time they reached the elevator, Pomni was covering her face with both hands. "I never want to show my face again."

"Don’t be like that," Jax said, pressing the button for their floor. "You should wave to the security camera at the corner."

"No."

"No?" Jax pestered her. "Think about the poor person watching the monitors. You’ll make their night."

Pomni groaned, shaking her head.

"Hey," he said more softly after a moment, tilting his head to catch her eyes, "Do you actually want me to put you down?"

Pomni hesitated, then sighed. "…No. It’s just embarrassing."

Jax's smile changed to one of pride. "That’s a very contradictory answer, Pomni."

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and he walked out still carrying her, completely unfazed.

Pomni reached into her purse, swiped out the room key, and tapped it against the door reader.

Click.

The door unlocked with a soft sound that echoed in the quiet hallway.

He didn’t set her down right away. Instead, he carried her all the way to the bed, where he finally, and quite deliberately, placed her down, as though she were something fragile and precious. Pomni landed with a small bounce, sinking into the soft sheets with a sigh of relief.

Jax crouched, hands already moving to unbuckle her heels. The quiet click of the straps filled the still air as he slid them off one by one.

"You didn’t get tired carrying me?" she asked, voice muffled by the pillow she was sinking into.

"No," he said simply, glancing up at her. "You’re light as you look."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?" Pomni asked.

"A compliment," he said, sitting beside her. "Now…"

Already catching on, Pomni turned her head and arched a brow. "You’re still on about that?" Her tone was light and soft, an invitation he didn’t need twice.

He didn’t answer with words. He leaned down and kissed her.

Pomni let out a small sound of surprise, quickly melting into it. Her hands came up to his neck, fingers threading through his hair as she kissed him back.

When they finally broke apart, Jax’s voice was low and amused. "You want to do this the French way?"

That made her laugh out loud. "Why are you saying it like that–" she managed between giggles, burying her face against his shoulder.

"Hey, this is–" Jax started, only to break into laughter himself, his head tipping back. Yeah, his words did sound a little stupid..

"Exactly," Pomni said, still smiling as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over his skin. "Not your smoothest moment, you know."

"Bold words from someone who’s currently underneath me," he shot back, looking down at a smiling and unequivocally happy Pomni.

"You did say you liked me confident."

"And I wasn’t lying," Jax replied, gaze softening.

"I know," Pomni whispered, looking up at him. Her smile was gentle. "I think I know you."

"...Do you?" He asked quietly, his eyes memorizing her face.

She nodded, fingers still resting at his jaw. "Mhm."

He looked down for a moment, as if weighing something invisible between them. "..I’m not used to letting people in." He said uncomfortably, but she had to know. After spending so much time in survival mode, she needed to realize how much he was risking and how much faith he was placing in her.

"I know," she said again, gentler this time. "But I’ll be here anyway." She promised. Jax had already earned a very special place in her heart, and she wanted to let him know that.

He made a little sound, part laugh and half sigh, as he made circles on her wrist with his thumb. "You better." He said seriously.

Pomni smiled, that tender warmth returning to her chest. She reached up, pulled him down again, and he met her halfway. His hands found her waist like they were made for it, steady and sure, and her fingers tangled in his hair.

For a long moment, the city outside didn’t matter. The world could tilt all it wanted, they could get used to this.

Day Three

Palace of Versailles, City of Versailles, France

For their second-to-last day in France, they decided to venture beyond Paris to the grand, gilded wonder that was the Palace of Versailles. A place that housed royalty and witnessed its downfall.

They might’ve left earlier, if not for how late they’d slept in after the previous night. The morning had been a blur of lazy yawns, tangled sheets, and half-hearted promises to "get ready in five-point-seven minutes." By the time they arrived, the sun already sat high, gleaming against the marble facade and golden gates.

"This... is a lot," Pomni breathed, her eyes wide as she took in the palace’s opulence, every inch drenched in history and gold.

"Eh. It’s... okay," Jax said with an exaggerated shrug, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "Personally, I prefer the kind of palace where I have the keys to the kingdom and let a chocolate fudge have the feast of their lives eating candy people."

Pomni blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then sighed. "I don’t like remembering that adventure," she muttered, crossing her arms. The memory of confetti where there shouldn’t have been confetti flashed in her mind, and she grimaced.

"Wasn’t that the one where your boy-toy poofed?" Jax asked offhandedly, he wasn't really paying that much attention back then.

"Okay, first of all, he was not my boy-toy," Pomni said, her tone sharp but not unkind. "Second of all... yeah." Her shoulders dropped slightly.

Jax glanced at her from the corner of his eye. For someone who had only known that NPC for a couple of hours, she seemed strangely affected. He couldn’t help thinking she might have some attachment issues.

...Then again, he didn’t actually know what had happened.

"What was it about him, anyway?" he asked finally, his tone casual, maybe too casual. "Was it because he was Australian or something?"

Pomni frowned, but not in irritation. More like she was sifting through a memory. "He... kinda went self-aware," she began slowly. "We glitched out of the adventure and ended up in this weird space with just their avatars. He started having an existential crisis, and I–I understood it. Especially back then, when I was still new there."

She realized she was rambling and stopped, flustered.

Jax tilted his head, surprisingly attentive. "No, no. Go on. Continue."

Pomni hesitated, then spoke softly. "It just... felt nice. Knowing I wasn’t the only one who felt lost. I guess that’s why it stuck with me."

Back then, she hadn’t really been close to anyone. Ragatha was friendly, sure, but their bond had been more circumstantial than personal; two people stuck in the same situation. She barely spoke with Zooble, couldn’t get through to Kinger until the haunted mansion fiasco, and Gangle always seemed too caught up in her own sadness.

And Jax…

Well, Jax had thrown her out of a moving truck.

Pomni huffed under her breath, muttering, "Unbelievable…"

"What’re you mumbling about?" Jax asked, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing," she said quickly, brushing it off. "Anyway, come on. Let’s look around."

Jax frowned, but followed her anyway.

Each room in the palace was more extravagant than the last, an endless escalation of luxury that bordered on absurdity. Everywhere Pomni looked, there was gold: etched into the walls, dripping from the chandeliers, woven into furniture and picture frames. For something so rare, it seemed to be the most common thing in Versailles.

Eventually, they found themselves standing before the Hall of Mirrors; a corridor so dazzling it almost hurt to look at. Mirrors stretched endlessly along the walls.

"Oho," Jax said, running a hand through his hair. "Now this place truly shines, especially with me reflecting off every wall." He struck a deliberately dramatic pose.

Pomni snorted. "I think the French might have opinions about that."

"Is that a threat?" Jax shot back, mock-offended.

She only shrugged, fighting a smile.

"Okay, well," he continued, brushing imaginary dust from his jacket, "they’d still be lucky to see my likeness."

"Hm." Pomni hummed, scanning the mirrored walls. "Crazy to think this was where they used to just... do their business out in the open."

Jax froze, looking disturbed. "They did what now?"

The disbelief in his tone was enough to make her grin. Finally, she had managed to throw him off balance, a couple of times actually during this vacation.

After a few more rooms and far too many portraits of powdered nobles, they arrived at Marie Antoinette’s bedroom.

"...She really loved her floral wallpaper." Pomni said, tilting her head. The walls bloomed with intricate pastel flowers, curling up toward a painted ceiling.

"And chandeliers," Jax added, gazing at the crystalline structure above. "If only Kinger’s room looked like this, he’d really live up to his royal status."

Pomni smiled faintly. "I wonder if it was the same for his wife."

"Oh yeah, you mentioned her once. During that bar adventure." Jax glanced at her curiously. "He had a wife?" He recalled seeing a crossed-out Queen chess piece every time he walked down the hall to their rooms. He always knew that person had to be related to Kinger, but he never really looked into it. There was no need for him to.

"Yeah," Pomni said softly. "She had... abstracted." She hesitated saying that word.

The air grew still for a moment.

Jax’s smirk faded; his posture slackened slightly. The word always carried too much weight. It reminded him of Ribbit, of something he’d rather not remember.

Pomni, meanwhile, felt that old chill crawl up her spine. The memory of her first day flashed behind her eyes, Kaufmo’s twisted form, the screaming, the helplessness.

Her first nightmare had been about abstraction.

"I don’t think anyone knew," Jax said after a long pause. "Well, besides you. He’d already gone off the deep end by the time I got there."

"Sometimes the dark helps," Pomni murmured.

Jax glanced at her, brow furrowed, but didn’t press. There was something in her voice, quiet, honest, maybe a little broken. So instead of asking, he just nodded, letting the silence settle comfortably between them as the gold around them gleamed on.

"Oh! Speaking of them, we should get souvenirs for the other’s!" Pomni said suddenly, her eyes brightening as she got the idea.

Jax groaned audibly. "Do we actually have to?"

Pomni gave him a look, half exasperated, half amused. "They’re our friends, Jax."

"They’re your friends," he countered, pointing at her. "Last time we met, Zooble practically tried to curse me. I could feel the evil energy radiating from them."

Pomni shrugged weakly. "I mean… I don’t really blame them."

"Gee, thanks." Jax said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"But still," she continued, in that patient tone he secretly adored, "we’re out here thinking about them while on this trip. That’s saying something, isn’t it?"

Jax sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

They wandered on, weaving through more opulent rooms until they finally stepped outside. The courtyard spread out before them, impossibly grand, gleaming marble paths, rows of trimmed hedges, and an enormous fountain.

"Wow…" Pomni breathed, eyes wide with awe.

Jax, meanwhile, was staring intently at something else standing behind her.

Pomni turned around and followed his gaze, doing a double take and a triple take. "Jax–no."

He looked at her, feigning innocence. "What? I didn’t even do anything."

"Oh, I know that tone." Pomni crossed her arms. "You’re thinking about doing something." She looked at the subjects of his interest with concern.

"Maybe I just wanted to say hi to the pigeons," he said, his grin widening and hands twitching.

"You cannot touch the pigeons. Leave them alone."

He groaned dramatically, dragging out the sound. "Ughhh, boringggg."

"You are such a child," Pomni said, biting back a laugh as she watched him dramatically pout over the pigeons’ escape.

"Excuse you. I am a grown man," Jax replied, crossing his arms with indignation.

"You’re not acting like it," she teased. Honestly, it was hard to believe he was twenty-two sometimes.

"You’re just jealous of my youth!" he declared proudly.

Pomni blinked, incredulous. "Are you calling me old? Our age difference is literally three years!"

"Three years closer to meeting the Grim Reaper!"

She gasped in offense, smacking his arm, while he laughed like a kid who’d just gotten away with something. Their playful banter echoed through the grand courtyard, blending with the soft flutter of pigeons taking flight.

Eventually, they made their way to the palace gift shop, each section gleaming with polished trinkets, gold accents, and the faint scent of floral perfume. Everything seemed to scream Versailles: elegance, extravagance, and the kind of luxury that made Pomni double-check every price tag. Her accountant brain was working overtime.

"Do you think Ragatha would like this?" she asked, holding up a small, ornate perfume bottle that sparkled in the light.

"I dunno," Jax said lazily, leaning against a display. "Probably. She’s too polite to say she doesn’t."

Pomni frowned, lowering the bottle slightly. She’d already gathered a few things, an elegant hair clip for Gangle, a minimalist candle for Zooble, a small golden chess piece replica for Kinger. But Ragatha’s gift still felt uncertain.

"Jax, come here," Pomni called, gesturing to him to come closer.

He raised a brow, stepping away from what he was scrutinizing. "What now?"

"Help me pick which one smells better. You said you’re good with scents, right?"

"I did say that," Jax said proudly; he was surprised she took her word seriously.

She sprayed one perfume on her left wrist, then another on her right, and held them out to him like some sort of royal fragrance challenge. "Well? Which is better?"

Jax sighed dramatically. "This is my life now, professional perfume sniffer." He leaned in and took a careful sniff of her first wrist. "...Vanilla?"

"Yeah," Pomni said, watching him curiously. His face was really close. "Is it good?"

"Eh. Kind of basic." He caught her other wrist before she could switch, sniffing again. "Rose."

"Correct," Pomni said, impressed despite herself. Although, her focus momentarily drifted from selecting the perfect perfume for Ragatha to just him.

"So, what do we choose?" she asked, finally snapping out of her trance.

"Vanilla," Jax said immediately as he straightened up.

"Why?" Pomni asked, half expecting his answer. This was Jax after all.

"Because it’s boring. Like her." He explained.

Pomni’s lips twitched. "Nope. We’re getting the rose."

Jax groaned. "Great. You just invalidated my entire contribution."

"Oh, don’t pout," Pomni assured, placing the perfume in her basket. "You still got to use your superhuman sense of smell."

"Yeah," Jax muttered, following her down the aisle, "for the noble cause of being ignored."

Pomni only smiled, knowing full well he secretly enjoyed it.

"Are you going to buy anything too?" Pomni asked, glancing over at him.

"Actually," Jax said, reaching into his other hand, "I did find something."

He held up a small, elegant box. Inside was a delicate ring. Silver in color, with a small, flower-shaped design at the center.

"This one," he said simply.

Pomni blinked, taken aback. "For anyone?"

"For you." His voice was casual, but there was an undertone of sincerity that caught her off guard. "I thought it’d suit you."  

"Oh." Pomni’s cheeks flushed as she looked at the small, intricate piece. "Thank you," she murmured, smiling faintly. "It’s beautiful."

"Don’t mention it," Jax said, stuffing his free hand in his pocket to look less affected than he was.

Still, the sight of her smiling at the ring stirred something in him, a quiet pride, a rare kind of warmth.

"Well," Pomni said after a beat, clutching the ring box carefully, "now I have to find you something."

Before Jax could even protest, she handed him the shopping basket and marched off between the aisles with purpose. He watched her go, amused and a little bewildered, before sighing to himself.

"...What’s she up to now?" he muttered, shifting the basket in his hands.

A few minutes later, Pomni returned with a bright look in her eyes and something hidden behind her back.

"Aha!" she said triumphantly.

Jax tilted his head, smirking. "What’s this, an exchange gift now?" Though, he was curious at the thing she saw which reminded her of him.

"Reciprocation," she corrected primly, pulling her hand forward to reveal a bracelet. It was simple but elegant, a strand of small pearls strung together, the kind of accessory that would look more at home on her wrist than his.

He blinked, deadpanning. "...This is so girly."

"I think it would look good on you," Pomni said without missing a beat.

"Everything looks good on me," he huffed. But looking at her, at the small spark of hope in her expression, and knew instantly that there was no winning this one. With a resigned sigh, he reached out and took it.

"Thank you… I guess," he said distantly, looking away. His heart was pounding so hard and it was all her fault.

"You’re welcome!" Pomni beamed, obviously pleased with herself. "Now, let’s go check out."

She turned and trotted toward the cashier, light on her feet.

Jax watched her go, shaking his head but smiling despite himself. "This girl..." he muttered fondly, following after her.

They took the bus back to Paris, sitting near the very back. Pomni had claimed the window seat again, her chin resting on her hand as she watched the landscape roll by. Beside her, Jax scrolled lazily through his phone, the paper bag of souvenirs resting against his leg.

Every so often, a low chuckle slipped out as he scrolled through another meme. Honestly, half the time he didn’t even know why it was supposed to be funny. Having to Google the meaning of some of them was humiliating. It made him feel old, like the world had kept spinning while he was stuck in place. Even not getting dumb internet jokes was just another reminder of how much time had been stolen from him.

Then a notification slid down from the top of his screen, group chat ping, from the circus crew.

Ragatha: How has it been Pomni and Jax? You two are returning tomorrow, right? Return safely!

Jax forced out a laugh. "Well, look who it is."

"Hm?" Pomni turned away from the window and glanced at his phone screen. "Oh. Ragatha." He leaned in a little, reading the message the ragdoll had sent.

"This group chat’s been dead for weeks," Jax muttered. "I’m surprised they even remembered it existed..."

Pomni smiled faintly. "That’s nice of her, though." She held out her hand. "Can I reply? My phone’s dead again." She’d forgotten to charge it last night, and by the time they left, the battery was already low.

He handed it over without a word, watching her type out a response.

"Can I send it?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Yeah, sure," he said easily.

Jax: Hi Ragatha! We've been doing great! And yes, our flight's tomorrow. Thank you! – P.S., this is Pomni using his phone.

She smiled in quiet satisfaction before handing it back. He took the phone, looking at her for a moment longer than he meant to.

"Let’s give them some evidence," Jax said suddenly, switching to the camera app. He turned the phone toward them. "Otherwise, they’ll think I’ve kidnapped and corrupted you."

Pomni frowned at the absurdity of his words. "They don’t think that."

"If only you knew," he murmured under his breath. Then, louder: "C’mon, smile, Pomni."

Pomni huffed out a laugh, leaning closer as Jax angled the phone. Just as the shutter clicked, she turned her head and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

The camera flashed, catching Jax mid-surprise, his eyes wide and hilariously off guard, while Pomni beamed beside him, clearly pleased with her ambush of affection.

Jax didn’t move, even after the photo was taken.

"Oh," Pomni said, inspecting the photo, sweetness coating her voice. "You’re blushing." She turned the phone slightly so he could see. "There. You can send that one."

That snapped him out of his daze. "Are you crazy?!" Jax sputtered, still recovering. "I’m not gonna send this–I'm–I look–"

"Happy," she interrupted gently, her tone soft but sure.

Jax froze. Her eyes, warm, searching, too knowing, met his. And for a moment, he couldn’t look away. The fight left his body like air escaping a balloon. Then he remembered what she’d said back then:

"I think I know you."

And who was Jax to deny her, when her words felt as certain as the dawn?

"...Happy," he admitted, almost under his breath, the word leaving his lips before his mind could filter it. 

Pomni’s smile widened, eyes shining like she’d just heard something precious. "I'm glad."

He kept looking at her. Really looking. At the curve of her lips, the light in her eyes, the calm that radiated from her presence. The truth was so simple it hurt.

She was his everything.

The warmth in his cold, colorless world. The pulse beneath all the static. When he’d come back, when he’d woken up from that hollow digital nightmare, everything had felt muted, washed in greys. The kind of grey that makes you forget what living ever felt like. He’d convinced himself he didn’t care.

Then, by some strange twist of fate, he’d run into her again. In a grocery store of all stupid places, both of them looking worn down from trying to adjust to life again, but still the same somehow. He hadn’t recognized her right away. But his heart had.

And just like that, the greys began to fade.

Don't get him wrong, Pomni had her flaws, and Jax knew it. But that was part of why he liked her.

She could get angry. She could shove you down and choke you out. She'd call you on your bullshit without hesitating. He didn't see her as some innocent figure. He saw her as a person. And loving her never blinded him to that.

The others were… meh. They didn’t bring him back to life like she did. Only Pomni had that effect. Only she made him remember what it felt like to feel.

Everything he’d told her at dinner, every word, every breath, had been a fraction of what really lived inside him. And even now, staring at her beside him on that dimly lit bus, he knew he could never fully say it.

Because maybe if he loved her less…

He might actually find the words for her.

"...Jax?" Pomni’s voice pulled him out of his head. "Earth to Jax?" she said softly, waving a gloveless hand in front of his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

He blinked, shaking his head as if shaking off a dream. "Oh. Uh, what? Yeah, me. Totally fine," he said quickly, forcing a smirk that was way too casual for someone who’d just been internally monologuing about feelings. "Just... thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Pomni tilted her head, curious.

He squinted, trying to play it off. "...About how you’re about to send that photo, actually." 

Pomni laughed lightly. "You sure? I mean, you kinda reacted… uh, hesitantly." She fumbled for the right word. "We can take another one. I won’t, uh, do that again."

"No," he said too fast. His mind immediately rejected that idea.

Pomni blinked, surprised.

Jax cleared his throat, trying to reel himself back in. "No, that one’s fine," he said more evenly, leaning back like it didn’t matter. "Perfect, actually. And hey, I didn’t say you can’t do it again. Don’t assume, Pomni."

She smiled faintly, warmth tugging at her expression as she looked back down at his phone. Without another word, she sent the photo, then quietly leaned into him.

Jax exhaled through his nose, his senses were all overloading him. He tilted his head toward her, resting it lightly against hers. "Hey," he murmured, "you still remember what I said yesterday?"

Pomni let out a tiny laugh. "You said a lot of things, Jax."

"How much you meant to me," he clarified, like he was reminding her of something serious in a sea of sarcasm.

Pomni looked up at him, soft and genuine. "How could I forget?"

He smiled faintly, not his usual smug kind, something smaller, realer. "Good. Don’t."

There was a pause. Then, almost hesitantly, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. It was brief, but it carried weight, like he didn’t trust himself to linger longer.

Pomni’s lips curved upward, her voice barely above a whisper. "...I’ll promise that too. Among other things."

Jax hummed in response, before remembering something. Suddenly, his hand brushed hers as he reached for his phone. "Hey," he said after a moment, "didn't cha’ want to scroll through your folder?"

Pomni blinked, having forgotten that. "Oh, yeah, I did."

She watched as he opened it, scrolling through photo after photo. Every single picture, except for the occasional meme, was of her. Some were candid, some posed, most caught in quiet moments. Smiling. Thinking. Just being.

And in every one, she looked like color itself.

Outside, the world rolled past in a blur of lights and movement. But for Jax, the only world that mattered was right there beside him.

They didn’t go out again after returning to the hotel. Neither of them had the energy for it—after two straight days of walking, laughing, and getting lost in Versailles, even the thought of moving another step felt impossible.

The security guards at the entrance still exchanged that knowing look whenever they passed. Jax, of course, only smiled at them like he was in on some private joke, while Pomni pretended not to notice.

They packed in quiet comfort that night, ordered from the hotel’s overpriced menu again, and before they knew it, morning arrived. Their flight home waited.

At the airport, they sat side by side in the lounge, the dull hum of chatter filling the space around them. Pomni was focused on her phone, face scrunched slightly as she scrolled through her photos.

Jax tilted his head slightly, curious. "Are you finally hard-launching us to your friends?" he asked, trying to peek at her screen. 

"I think they already know…" she murmured, adjusting the lighting on a photo, the one from their dinner at the fancy restaurant.

Jax chuckled. "Yeah, can’t really blame ‘em. Girl disappears for a bit and comes back with a tall, handsome guy who keeps picking her up after work. We're not really subtle, Pomni."

She rolled her eyes. "You mean a tall, annoying guy."

"Hey," he said, pointing to himself, "annoying and memorable. And speaking of which, make sure your caption reflects that. Something poetic, something like, ‘I’ve been blessed by perfection.’"

Pomni snorted, pretending to type. "Sure, yeah. Totally."

She hit post.

Jax leaned over to see what she actually wrote:

"With my favorite person ever"

He blinked. Then smirked. "Favorite person ever, huh? Heavy title, Pomni. You sure I deserve that? What about your parents or other people?"

She looked up at him, soft but certain. "No… I think you’re the one who fits it."

For a moment, something in Jax's chest twisted, the kind of ache that didn’t hurt, just reminded.

"Even if there were a million worlds out there," she continued, smiling faintly, "you’d still be the one I’d pick."

Jax paused, caught off guard. Then, with a crooked smile that didn’t quite hide the warmth behind it, he said, "Don’t regret that later."

"I won’t," she said simply.

Right then, the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal.

Jax stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and held out a hand. The pearl bracelet caught the light as he grinned faintly. "C'mon, let's go home, Pomni."

She took it. Her fingers fit easily between his, her flower-shaped ring glinting under the terminal lights. They didn’t say anything else as they walked toward the gate.

When they finally boarded, the world outside the window blurred into streaks of gray and gold. The engines roared softly, a lullaby of departure.

Pomni dozed off not long after takeoff, head naturally finding his shoulder, her breathing steady and warm.

Jax glanced down at her, at the faint smile still on her lips, and felt that quiet, consuming thought again.

'How did I get this lucky twice?'

He opened his phone, scrolled to a picture of her sleeping—the very first one he took, with Paris as her backdrop.

Reciprocation, Pomni had said once.

He uploaded it. No overthinking. No doubts. Just her. He captioned it: 

"Found you twice."

He locked his phone and leaned back, watching the clouds drift by. 

The world was big and loud-sometimes it even shifted into something digital.

But in both of Jax's life, one thing stayed constant: Pomni.

She was his anchor.