Arcane: Ekko and Powder

The days following the kiss were some of the strangest Ekko had ever experienced. At first, he had hoped that things would go back to normal, that their bond would return to the easy friendship they had always shared. But it quickly became clear that nothing would ever be the same again. No matter how hard they both tried to act like it was—no matter how much they pushed the lingering tension aside—it hung in the air between them, thick and unspoken.

Ekko found himself replaying the kiss over and over in his mind, unable to shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted. The electric rush he had felt when Powder's lips met his still echoed through his chest, but now it was coupled with a deep frustration. His feelings for her weren't just friendship anymore, and that scared him more than he cared to admit. He'd spent so many years knowing who he was, knowing what he wanted—his inventions, his dreams, his plans for Zaun—but this? This was different. This was new and confusing, and it made him feel lost in a way he hadn't been since he was a kid.

Ekko found himself avoiding her sometimes. It wasn't intentional, but he couldn't ignore the way his heart raced every time she came near. When they were together, it felt like he was walking on eggshells, afraid of saying or doing something that might change everything. So, he started working more, throwing himself into his gadgets and inventions, trying to distract himself from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

Powder, on the other hand, had become distant in a way Ekko hadn't expected. She didn't pull away physically, but there was a noticeable change in the way she acted around him. She laughed less, her usual energetic, carefree demeanor replaced with a quietness that didn't suit her. Her eyes, which once sparkled with mischief and excitement, now seemed clouded, as if she were trying to figure something out that she couldn't quite grasp. Every time Ekko tried to talk to her, there was a hesitation in her voice, a sharpness that wasn't there before.

It made Ekko's chest ache. He missed the way she used to be—the way they used to be—before everything got complicated. But he couldn't bring himself to confront it, to talk about what had happened, not when he was still trying to figure out his own feelings. He didn't want to risk losing her completely.

One evening, Ekko was deep in thought, tinkering with a new device in his workshop, when he heard the familiar creak of the door opening. He didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Hey," Powder's voice broke through the quiet, soft but with an edge of uncertainty. "Got a minute?"

Ekko didn't respond immediately, instead adjusting a small cog on the device in his hands. He was afraid that if he looked at her, he might say something that would make things worse. But the silence between them grew too heavy, and he finally set the device down and looked up.

"Of course. What's up?"

Powder leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't seem to know what to say, her eyes darting around the room rather than meeting his. It was strange, Ekko thought, how something as simple as eye contact now felt so loaded between them.

"I... I don't know," she said, her voice quieter than usual. She bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably. "I was just thinking about things. About... us."

The words hung in the air, thick and heavy. Ekko's pulse quickened, and his mind raced, but he forced himself to remain calm, to keep his tone steady. "What about us?"

Powder shifted her weight, finally meeting his gaze, but her eyes were clouded, uncertain. "I don't know what's happening anymore. It's like... after that night, everything feels different, and I don't know how to fix it."

Ekko felt his heart tighten in his chest. He had been expecting this—had known that at some point, they would need to talk about the kiss, about the things that had changed between them—but hearing her say it out loud made it real, made it impossible to ignore.

"I feel it too," Ekko said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's like... like there's this thing between us now, and I don't know how to handle it. It's messing with my head."

Powder looked down at her feet, as if the floor was somehow safer than looking at him. She let out a frustrated sigh, one that seemed to carry all of the confusion she had been holding inside. "Yeah, I get that. I've been trying to ignore it, pretend it's not there, but... I can't. It's like everything I do just feels wrong, like I'm... like I'm losing myself or something."

Ekko stood up from his workbench and took a few steps closer to her, unsure of what to say, but wanting to reach out. "I don't want you to feel that way. You're not losing yourself, Powder. But I get it. It's confusing."

Powder's eyes flashed up at him then, a mixture of frustration and pain in them. "But that's just it! I don't know what to feel anymore. I don't know if I'm supposed to just... keep going, or if I'm supposed to change everything. You kissed me, Ekko. And I kissed you back. And now everything feels... different. And I don't know what that means."

The confession hit Ekko like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of him. It was as if she had pulled all of his unspoken fears out into the open, had named the very thing that had been weighing on both of them for days.

"I know," Ekko said quietly, his voice filled with a tenderness that surprised him. "I know exactly how you feel. I didn't know what it meant then, and I still don't. But... it's hard to just act like it didn't happen."

Powder let out a dry laugh, though it lacked humor. "You're telling me." She rubbed her face with both hands in frustration, before dropping her arms to her sides. "I've never felt more confused in my life."

Ekko stepped forward again, closer now, his presence comforting despite the uncertainty swirling between them. "We don't have to figure it all out right now. Maybe we just need time to... think. To figure out what we want."

Powder nodded slowly, her expression softening, but her eyes were still filled with a sadness Ekko couldn't shake. "I don't want to lose what we had," she said, her voice small. "I don't want to lose you."

Ekko's heart clenched at her words. "You won't. We won't. I'm not going anywhere."

She gave him a small, uncertain smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. There was a hesitation between them, a wall they couldn't quite bring themselves to tear down. The space between them had grown in a way neither of them had expected, and the weight of it was almost unbearable.

"Okay," Powder said quietly, looking down at the floor again. "But I think... I think we both need some space to figure things out. Just... for a little while."

Ekko nodded, even though it hurt more than he had expected. He didn't want distance between them—not now, not when everything felt so fragile—but he understood. They both needed time to breathe, to process.

"Yeah. I think that's probably for the best," he said, though every word felt like a weight pressing down on him.

With one last look at him, Powder turned and walked toward the door. As she stepped into the hallway, she paused for a brief moment, glancing back at Ekko. Her eyes were filled with a sadness he couldn't fully understand, but the finality in her expression made him feel a tightness in his chest.

"I'll see you around, Ekko," she said softly before disappearing into the night.

Ekko stood there in the silence that followed, his heart heavy with the weight of what was unsaid, what had shifted between them. The distance between them had grown, and neither of them knew how to close the gap.

He had no answers. But he knew one thing for sure: things had changed. And somehow, they both had to figure out how to move forward.