It's so fucking ridiculous how affected Ragatha still is about her "not anymore" comment even if she didn't know how to fix it because maybe she was not even referring to Kaufmo or Ribbit but herself but she knows Jax took it very personally. While Jax was freaking out at the end of episode 7 after being right about Caine manipulating their minds and the first thing that he mentions was how the stupid sauce could mess with them when he didn't even touch it but, oh, Ragatha's "I hate you, but I don't want you to hate me" was a little too much to handle.

Imagine that Ragatha has a wall full of Polaroids too, some of them with all the group and others only with Jax, maybe in the ones she has with him she drew hearts or wrote a little description of what happened that day or how much she enjoyed being her friend. But instead of having them turned she faces the pictures everyday and thinks that she still can have him again as before and that their story has not ended yet.

Aside from all the lore bits we got, I want to mention that, as someone whose favorite character is Ragatha, she was sooo good this episode. She was calmer, a little bit more cold, her people pleasing really did not show as the way we are used to and her intelligence really makes her the good character she really is. I loved the way she grabbed and asked the guy that if he had more information to explain, then he should do something about it. She did not believe any single word of what the NPC said just like Jax did at the beginning and she did not try to keep cheery all the time about it. We did not need for her to have a lot of screen time to tell how amazing she was in this episode.

Jokes aside, a hug between Jax and Ragatha will literally cure them and the whole fandom emotionally and spiritually. Feel each other’s touch again, they way they hold their bodies, the way they tremble, the way they cry, the way Ragatha supports her cheek against his shoulder while putting her hands around his neck. The way Jax lifts her off the floor and strokes every fiber of her hair like is the last time he will ever have her in his arms again.

Being two sides of the same coin. Being similar yet too different but too close to know each other like the back of their hands. Sharing a piece of freedom with the other 'cause they know that only an enemy that once was your biggest ally is the escape to feel real again. He's covered in yellow, like the sun, burning by his own actions. She's painted in blue, like the moon, pouring her truth like rain even if she tries to deny that something is wrong. He knows she's his truth, the only one who remembers his entire self, the only bit of happiness he has left, and he despises having a weakness still there with him. She knows he can see her through the mask she carefully wears every day just to feel good, to feel loved, and to feel accepted, even though he accepts the true version of her, the one he desperately wants to see again, now only saved for his past self because he lost the privilege of seeing how graceful she was when they did not need to pretend. Two doors. Side by side. Small whisper at night. Sounds of surrender. Beauty in the silence through their walls. Conversations that transformed into arguments. Love that turned to hate. The shared tragedy of their situation. Where they had to see people come and go. Where they know they could not live without the other. Because they have a destiny. A simple projection of their most tragic union: to maintain the real knowledge only for each other while watching people leave, or part together, two red crosses covering the first doors you see.