The buzz at the door came thirty-seven minutes after Void's last message. Keira blinked at it, groggy from adrenaline crash, her bag still half-unpacked, a ratty blanket wrapped around her.
She hit the release switch, metal clunk echoing down the corridor. A few moments later, Void descended the narrow staircase appearing like she already was in this place before. Beanie askew, still in just her tee, and carrying a plastic bag looking like it had been filled by a raccoon on Adderall.
Void squinted around. "Jesus. This place smells worse than my toolbox."
Keira smirked from under the blanket. "Welcome to Casa de Poor Life Choices."
Void dropped the bag with a thud. "I brought offerings to the goddess of furious redheads." She pulled out a two-liter of off-brand soda, three packs of sour gummy cats, an aggressively orange bag of chips labeled "ULTRA HEAT!!!", and - inexplicably - a tiny plush bat wearing sunglasses.
"Housewarming gift."
Keira blinked. "That's..." She reached for the bat. "...actually real cute."
"Yeah, well, trauma girls need their emotional support cryptids." She paused, took a breath, then added, "Damn. It's kinda hot in here."
"You could've taken the tram, you know. Running when it's this cold outside? A recipe for nasty lung inflammation."
Void scoffed, then took off her shirt without ceremony, flinging it over the back of a folding chair where it landed like a banner marking conquered territory. Beneath, the dim flicker of the workshop's overhead light caught on her sports bra - black-threaded with glints of magenta that shimmered like nebulae trapped in cloth. Her skin, pale but sun-kissed in places, was a map of lived-in chaos and stubborn survival.
Across her abdomen, faded scars traced stories she'd never brag about. One arched like a crescent moon just below her ribs - jagged, but healed. Surgical. Clinical. The quiet, permanent reminder of a battle fought in hospital beds, IVs dripping poison meant to save. The kind of scar that came with a five-year plan and way too many whispered prayers in sterile rooms. Cancer had tried her thrice, left its signatures, and still lost.
A few smaller ones - some deliberate, some chaotic - lined her sides, the accidental tattoos of someone who soldered circuits without gloves and once tried to fix a bandsaw while drunk.
Her pants? An absolute crime scene of safety pins and stubbornness, hanging on through pure spite and questionable stitching. Somehow, the whole thing came together like punk rock got into a knife fight with cyberpunk fashion and lost, but in a hot way.
Keira caught herself staring. Too long. Waaaaay too long.
Void noticed, of course. She turned slightly, pretending to stretch, the magenta shimmer shifting across her chest like starlight over oil.
"What's wrong, gearhead? You look like someone just dropped a rare loot crate in your lap."
Keira blinked, mouth just slightly open, trying and failing to summon a comeback. Oh the turntables.
Void chuckled - soft, cocky in the most infuriating way.
"Huh. So it's not just me who can appreciate art."
She walked past Keira like gravity bent slightly in her favor, the scent of rust mixing with her perfumes, following in her wake, and Keira just stood there, cheeks warm, wondering if she was in danger of short-circuiting.
Void looked around. The concrete floor. A weird looking blanket doubling as a carpet. The visible absence of any kind of softness.
"You seriously gonna live down here?"
That snapped Keira back into reality. "For now."
Void clicked her tongue. "Damn, girl. That ex must've been Olympic-level awful."
Keira exhaled sharply through her nose. It was almost a laugh, except it came out more like a wheeze. "You have no idea how close you are."
Void raised an eyebrow but didn't push. She just plopped down on the folding chair and cracked open the chips.
"So. You ready to trauma-dump or should we just eat garbage and pretend we're fine?"
Keira paused. Looked at her. The offer was genuine - no strings, no expectations. No twisted sympathy.
"Garbage first."
They ate in silence for a bit. Sour gummies, heat-death chips, bad soda. Void made snide remarks about Keira's organization system - or lack thereof - and Keira retaliated by pelting her with a gummy cat.
At some point, Void sprawled on the blanket-carpet-thing, arms behind her head. "You know... for a gremlin lair, this ain't half bad."
"Don't get used to it. Rent's steep as fuck. You pay in emotional repression - lots of it."
Void snorted. Then, the patient silence returned.
"You wanna tell me what actually happened?"
Keira stared at the flickering LED light above them. "Well, besides what I told you over the text..."
Her fingers twisted the plush bat's tiny wing.
"She didn't scream. She didn't hit. She just..." She exhaled, slow and jagged. "Unmade me. Bit by bit. Like trimming wires until you forget what you were even powering."
Void was silent. Listening. She knew Keira didn't need her to say anything. The presence was enough.
"And the worst part? I thought that was love. I thought that if it hurt, it meant it mattered."
"Fuck that."
Brutal and true.
"Love doesn't shrink you. It doesn't ask you to disappear. If it does, it's not love. It's ego in a pretty dress."
Keira's eyes stung, but not enough to let the tears out.
She sat on the edge of the carpet, back to Void. "I think I forgot what it feels like to be around someone who doesn't want to fix me."
"Bitch, I wouldn't even know where to start."
Keira snorted - an honest, ugly sound that echoed off the cement walls.
"Seriously though... you're not broken. You're battle-tested."
"That supposed to be comforting?"
"Nah. Just accurate."
Keira felt her body relax in a way it hadn't in quite a while. Muscles she didn't even know she had were unclenching.
She slid down, her back brushing against Void's side without thinking.
Void didn't move - she just kept looking at the ceiling.
Keira's voice was barely audible. "You staying?"
"Do I look like someone who wants to leave?"
Keira nodded.
They didn't say much after that. One of the pipes let out an opinionated groan.
At some point, Keira's breathing evened out. Her head rested against Void's shoulder. She didn't realize she'd fallen asleep.
Serenity was ripped apart by a harsh pounding on the metal door - rather hard to ignore. Void's fingers froze in Keira's hair as the echo slammed into the room like a fist through glass.
Keira stirred, eyes snapping open, heart instantly pounding.
Jenna's voice bellowed from outside, desperate and raw: "Open up! We need to talk!"
Void's eyes flicked toward the door, then back to Keira, a hard smile twisting on her lips. "That cops or gangoons?"
Keira swallowed, torn between wanting to run and knowing this storm wasn't done with her yet. The pounding didn't stop. It only got louder - insistent, unforgiving - just like Jenna.
"Worse. My ex."
Void stretched like a cat waking from a nap - lazy but deliberate. Her fingers tangled in her hair as she glanced toward the door where the pounding still rattled the workshop's guts.
Keira rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, voice heavy but mischievous. "You uh... Wanna have some fun with this?"
Void's grin curled wider, sharp and wicked. "Oh, girl, you know I live for this shit."
They stood, moving toward the door with lazy confidence, like they were about to turn a storm into a light drizzle. Keira tossed Void's hoodie over her shoulder, eyes sparkling with an awkward mix of exhaustion and fire.
"You handle the drama. I'll back you up if she tries to re-write the past again."
Void clicked her tongue, cracking her knuckles. "That's a date, just so you know."
Together, they walked upstairs. Ready to face whatever wrecking ball Jenna was planning on swinging.
Keira stood leaned against the wall, arms crossed, breathing like every inhale was a decision. Jenna's voice was still echoing off the walls - full of that familiar edge Keira used to fold under.
Void opened the door.
Jenna's eyes narrowed as she looked at Void's nearly-exposed cleavage. "Have I interrupted something? You must be the new parasite, huh?"
Void let out a low whistle. "Wow. Right out the gate with that one. You must be exhausted carrying that ego around all day. And yeah. You did. We were sleeping, like normal people do during the night."
Jenna scoffed, arms folding. "I don't have time for this."
"You've literally hauled your ass across half the fucking city, standing in the girl's sanctuary trying to gaslight her into round twelve of Emotional Abuse: Ultra Deluxe Edition. But please, go on about how you're short on time."
Jenna glared. "She was mine."
Void tilted her head, voice syrupy and cruel. "Sweetheart, she's not a fucking houseplant. You don't own people. That's why she left. That, and the constant guilt-tripping and let me guess - weaponized tears, right?"
"Don't forget the silent treatment. That was her favorite part."
Void shot Keira a thumbs-up without breaking eye contact with Jenna. "Bingo. You really are a textbook case, huh?"
Jenna turned to Keira. "Is this why you stormed out? Because you're screwing around with some alt chick who sounds like she read half the lesbian-themed Tumblr?"
Void's laugh was low and sharp, like a blade drawn slow. "God, you're so adorable. Do you always assume you're the protagonist in everyone's betrayal arc?"
Jenna's mouth twitched. "You think you're helping her by pushing her into your arms? You think that makes you the good guy?"
"No. I'm not the good guy. I'm the bitch who noticed she wasn't breathing and tossed her an oxygen tank. You just kept telling her the air was fine while you suffocated her with love notes and ultimatums."
Jenna stepped forward. "You don't know what we had."
Void's smile was too calm to be anything but dangerous. "You're right. I don't. But I know what she had - panic attacks, constant second-guessing, and crying herself numb while you told her she was 'too sensitive,' only to tell her she was 'too intense' soon after."
Jenna's voice was trembling now. "She loved me."
"Sure. And you twisted that love into a leash. And now she's finally unclipping it. Must sting, mm?"
"Like hellfire, I hope."
Jenna shook her head, stepping further in like the walls might close around her if she didn't reclaim the space. "You just don't get it. She's vulnerable. She needed someone to keep her grounded."
Void's brow arched. "Ah yeah, 'grounded' - the classic abuser term for 'I broke her wings because I couldn't stand the thought of her flying higher than me.'"
Jenna barked a humorless laugh. "You're twisting everything."
"Projection. Classic."
Jenna turned on Keira now, tone more brittle than before. "You're really okay with this? Letting her speak for you?"
Keira's anything but fragile now. "She's not speaking for me. She's saying what I was too afraid to say while you were making me doubt my own memories."
"Look at you, Keira. Standing tall in your own fortress! That's my girl. I'd clap but, y'know, drama."
Jenna exhaled sharply, voice tightening. "I made mistakes, but I was there. I picked you up when no one else cared."
Keira's eyes hardened. "You picked me up so you could keep me beneath you."
Void let out a short, sharp laugh. "Oof. Hun, you sure you wanna keep swinging? You're losing this fight harder than a corpo in a street brawl."
She continued, loading a .50 caliber round this time, shooting it point-blank "You wanna know the wildest part? She didn't even plan it. The kiss."
Jenna's jaw ticked.
"Just... Happened. That sweet little moment where someone does something right without asking for anything in return. No expectations. No lecture after."
She tapped her temple.
"Bet that's foreign territory for you."
"You're disgusting."
"My sweet summer child. I'm the mirror. You just don't like what's looking back and waving at you."
"Let. Me. Talk. To. Her. You're not part of this."
Void ignored her plea, then dragged on. "Y'know what really stuck with me?" She cocked her head. "She told me she used to sit in the kitchen at 2AM, replaying arguments in her head so she'd be prepared the next time you got offended."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it? Because I know the signs. The rehearsed apologies. The silence followed by tears, followed by sex, followed by the slow, sweet leash tightening. You didn't date her. You programmed her."
Jenna's lip curled. "You're seriously telling me you know better after just one night?"
"Nah. But your ex sure slept better with me in her arms than she ever did next to your guilt-ridden sermons."
Keira's breath hitched.
That silence wrapped tight around them all - coiled and mean.
Void finally broke it. "And her cheek," she added quietly, "was sweeter than sin when I kissed it."
Jenna's nostrils flared like she'd just smelled something rotten. Her voice hissed now.
"You're trash."
"At least I'm reusable. You? Proprietary garbage with no technical documentation."
Void watched Jenna shrink like a balloon someone forgot to tie, all the air hissing out in a quiet spiral of failure and disbelief. It would've been pitiful, if it weren't also so goddamn satisfying.
She sniffed and gave Jenna a slow once-over.
"You know, I keep trying to find something redeemable about you. Maybe a tragic backstory? Daddy issues? A secret puppy rescue hobby? But nah. You're just... boring. And toxic. Like if a TED Talk fucked a gas leak."
Jenna looked up with bloodshot eyes, glaring - but her silence was starting to betray her.
Void didn't stop. She was in it now, tail lit, all rockets firing.
"Do you practice your guilt-trips in the mirror, or does it just come naturally? 'Mirror mirror on the wall, how do I make this her fault without saying anything at all?'"
She mimed a beauty queen pose.
"'Tell her she's sensitive and then cry when she tries to leave.' Real Disney villain energy right there."
Jenna muttered, "I'll repeat - you know gnat's shit about me."
"Again, true," Void said with a grin. "But your vibes are loud enough to file a noise complaint."
Keira barked a surprised laugh, then covered her mouth like she didn't mean to enjoy that as much as she did. Jenna jolted hearing the sound.
Void pointed casually at Keira. "See? That. That right there? That's why I'm here. That laugh is the first real noise she's made in months that didn't sound like she was bracing for a slap."
Another shot, another hit.
"I wonder... Did you ever kiss her without making her feel like she owed you something after?"
Jenna flared, voice snapping out of her. "You smug little-"
"Yes, that's me, Void the Smug Little Lesbian. Coming to a theater near you. We're sold out of emotional manipulation, but there's plenty of self-respect at the merch stand."
Keira doubled over laughing now, hand clutching her side.
Jenna reached her breaking point. "Shut. The fuck. Up!"
Void raised both eyebrows. Smiled like a wolf with clean teeth.
"Theeeeere she is."
In a last ditch effort, Jenna launched into her rehearsed spiel, barely able to control her voice at this point. "Look, you don't understand. Keira and I - we had something serious going on. Something worth fighting for. You're just the shiny new thing, the easy excuse to run away from what actually matters."
Void raised a hand, fingers flicking in that exact, dismissive "talk to the hand" motion - dripping with 'please, spare me.'
"Yap, yap, yap. Heard enough of your screenplay, Janey."
Before Jenna could get another word out, Void cut her off with a smirk. "You know, I never liked the sales reps of our time. Always pushing, always selling something you don't want. We're not interested. If I ever see you again it'll be my muscles you're going to fight, not the snark."
With a sharp turn, Void slammed the door shut with a satisfying thunk, the sound echoing like a mic drop through the workshop.
She leaned back against the door, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips.
Keira rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. "Wow. That was... Something."
Void shrugged, her voice low and playful. "You don't deal with that kinda shit by treating it seriously. You just shut their trap with a door."
Keira smirked, stepping closer. "You really gonna let her think she's still got a shot?"
Void's grin deepened, eyes gleaming. "She might have a shot, but I have an ammo dump. Let her try."
Keira laughed, soft and tired, the sound curling through the space like steam off hot water. She shook her head again, slower this time, eyes lingering on Void's.
"You're unreal."
"Nah. Just aggressively real in a world full of cardboard cutouts."
Then, without breaking eye contact, Void reached out and took Keira's hand - no grand gesture, no drama. Just fingers sliding between fingers like it was always meant to happen.
"C'mon. Let's have some shut-eye before the city remembers it still owes us a disaster."
Keira didn't argue. Her grip tightened, just enough to say thank you, and she followed Void toward the back of the workshop. Past the shelves of tangled wires and misfit parts - toward the battered abomination that was still unsure whether it's a blanket or a carpet.
They collapsed side by side, a slow exhale of adrenaline and ache.
No big speeches. No confessions. Just Void wrapping her arm around Keira's waist, then whispering: "You safe now, gearhead."
All Keira could say was, "Good night, Void." Then she just pressed closer, her forehead tucked near Void's collarbone, breath finally steadying.
Void looked at her smartwatch.
"More like a morning, but y'know. Semantics. Sleep tight. We deserve a good fucking rest after whatever the fuck that was."