Page 159 of Jax
Then, at the same time, we both said, “Coloring books.”
The silence that followed was light and stunned, like the whole room had inhaled and forgotten to exhale.
Sully gasped like he’d witnessed a miracle. “You’re my people,” he said, clutching his chest like the joy might knock him over. “Oh, my god. You’re actually my people.”
Carrick groaned, dragging a hand down his face like the conversation was physically aging him. “No,” he muttered. “Absolutely not. I survived deployment, four house fires, and the worst group chat in existence, and Irefuseto go down like this.”
Maddy was already on her feet, halfway to the hall closet, practically vibrating with joy. “Too late. He’s already picturing a glitter gel pen holster.”
Deacon, still kneeling near Violet, shook his head slowly and muttered, “We’re gonna find crayons in the freezer again, aren’t we?”
Bellamy didn’t look up from her page. “Better than handcuffs in the microwave like last time.”
Niko, without inflection, offered, “That was for science.”
Her laugh came like a cracked window letting in spring air—cool, unexpected, and undeniable. It broke out of her like she’d forgotten how to hold it in, and the moment it escaped, her eyes widened.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, startled by the sound of her own joy, her breath catching somewhere between apology and disbelief, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to feel anything that wasn’t survival.
But beneath her hand, she was still smiling—small, crooked, and unguarded. It hit something in my chest I hadn’t realized I’d been protecting. A reminder that laughter had once lived in her easily. That maybe it could again.
Carrick groaned and threw up both hands like the universe had betrayed him. “And now you’ve turned her,” he muttered. “God help us all. There’s gonna be glitter in the HVAC system by Monday.”
Maddy reappeared from the hallway at that exact moment, arms full of chaos—a tangle of coloring books, scrap paper, highlighters, and what looked suspiciously like a broken box of crayons held together by duct tape. “Too late!” she sang, dumping the pile onto the coffee table with the gleeful flourish of someone delivering contraband. “We’ve already corrupted her!”
“I take no responsibility for what happens next,” Deacon muttered as he zipped his medical bag with a resigned kind of grace. “I’m a healer, not a handler.”
Sully was still standing at the edge of the couch like he might start crying from joy. He sniffed dramatically. “I knew I liked you,” he said, pointing at Violet with all the solemnity of a man offering knighthood. “You speak my language. You belong here.”
Violet’s shoulders bounced beneath the blanket, another laugh trying to push through. She didn’t hide it this time. Just ducked her head and wiped at the corners of her eyes like the sound had surprised her in a different way now, less fear, more awe.
“Coloring is one of my favorite activities,” she said, voice a little hoarse. “I forgot how much I missed it, during...”
Maddy immediately grabbed a coloring book from the pile, one of the weird adult ones with swear words hidden in paisley patterns, and dropped it into her lap. “Welcome back, baby. The glitter pens live in a sacred drawer. We don’t speak of it. You’ll find out.”
Bellamy didn’t even glance up from her spot in the corner, still propped sideways in the armchair like a queen ignoring the peasants. “Just don’t get any on my boots,” she muttered. “I have a no-glitter policy. And I will enforce it.”
“You say that,” Maddy called back, “but your soul has Lisa Frank energy. I canfeelit.”
“That’s slander.”
“The truth hurts, baby.”
Carrick dropped onto the arm of the couch, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to work out the social trauma. “This is how it starts,” he muttered. “Coloring books. A few stickers. Then someone puts googly eyes on the light switches, and next thing I know, we’re making friendship bracelets while somebody cries to Taylor Swift in the kitchen.”
“Oh my God, yes,” Sully gasped. “We need to do friendship bracelets again. Remember the ones with the charms? Mine had a tiny axe!”
“You kept threatening to throw it at people during movie night.” Maddy said dryly.
“I stand by it.”
Violet was laughing now, really laughing. Her eyes shining, cheeks flushed, voice cracking under the weight of something inside her finally letting go. It tumbled out in waves, her body curling inward like she didn’t quite know what to do with that much feeling at once.
I reached for her hand beneath the blanket, and this time she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers closed around mine, not tight, not desperate, just steady. Familiar. Like her body remembered safety, even if her mind hadn’t caught up. She didn’t look at me, but she didn’t need to. The way she held on said enough. She was here. Present. Real.
The room shifted around her, warm and quiet, like breath returning to lungs after too long in the cold. She wasn’t just surviving anymore. She was beginning to return. Around us, the rhythm resumed: Sully and Maddy swapped glitter war stories, Niko held steady at the counter, and Carrick disappeared into the kitchen muttering about gel pens being a gateway drug. No one hovered. No one managed the moment. For the first time in weeks, the quiet didn’t require control.
Violet had gone still again, but not from fear. Her head rested on my shoulder, breath slow and even against my collarbone. One hand curled around an unused crayon. The other traced slow lines in the blanket on her lap, like her body hadn’t fully let go, but it was close. Closer than before. And that was enough.
