Arcane: Ekko and Powder

The following weeks brought more change than either of them expected. Ekko and Powder's relationship—once something hidden, something uncertain—was now out in the open, but that didn't make it easier to navigate. The weight of the unspoken, the vulnerability of having each other so close, was still something they were learning to manage. Every glance, every touch, felt like a delicate thing that could slip through their fingers if they weren't careful.

They had settled into a rhythm, spending most of their days working side by side in the workshop or wandering the streets of Zaun, looking for small adventures. For Ekko, these moments were an opportunity to experiment with his inventions, to think about how he could change the world with his ideas. For Powder, they were a chance to escape into a world where the future didn't feel so overwhelming. They both found a sense of peace in their shared time together, but there was always a lingering tension—an undercurrent of something more, something they couldn't quite bring themselves to confront.

It was one of those days, a quiet afternoon after a long morning spent working on one of Ekko's new inventions, when Powder broached the subject. They were sitting on the worn stone floor of the workshop, surrounded by half-finished projects and scattered tools. The faint glow of dusk filtered in through the cracked windows, casting long shadows over the room. Powder was absently fiddling with a small device, her brow furrowed in concentration, while Ekko was bent over a blueprint, tracing over lines with a pencil. The hum of machinery and the clink of metal filled the room, but it wasn't enough to drown out the quiet tension between them.

"Ekko," Powder said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Can we talk?"

He looked up from his work, meeting her gaze. His heart skipped a beat. He'd known this conversation was coming—it had to. They'd been dancing around it for weeks, each of them feeling the growing weight of something unspoken. But still, the moment felt like a shift. "Of course," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though he could feel his pulse quicken. "What's on your mind?"

Powder took a deep breath, setting the gadget down and turning to face him. "I've been thinking a lot about us, you know?" she began, her voice softer than usual, tinged with uncertainty. "About this... everything."

Ekko shifted, setting his blueprint aside. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual, though he couldn't suppress the nervous flutter in his chest.

She glanced at him, her lips pulling into a slight smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I think I'm scared, Ekko. I mean... things feel so different now. I've never had anyone this close before, not like this. And I don't know if I'm ready for... whatever comes next."

The words hung in the air between them, thick with emotion. Ekko felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mix of relief and fear. Relief, because he hadn't been the only one carrying the weight of those thoughts. Fear, because he didn't have answers. Not this time.

He rubbed his hand over his face, collecting his thoughts. "I get it. Believe me. I'm scared too," he said quietly. "But I think that's what makes it real, right? That fear? I don't think we're supposed to have everything figured out just yet."

Powder was quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Yeah... yeah, I guess you're right. I don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose you."

The vulnerability in her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and Ekko swallowed hard. The intensity of the connection between them was undeniable, and in that moment, he knew—really knew—that he felt the same way.

"You won't lose me, Powder," Ekko said, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling in his chest. He reached out, his hand brushing hers gently. "No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

Powder's eyes softened, and she met his gaze with an intensity that made his heart race. "Promise?"

Ekko smiled, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "Promise."

For a moment, there was silence again, but this time it wasn't filled with tension. It was quiet in the way that only true understanding could be—comfortable, easy, like they were finally on the same page. The weight of their conversation lifted, replaced by a sense of calm that neither of them had realized they needed so badly.

They sat there for a while, just being together. There were no grand declarations, no dramatic gestures—just the simple truth that they cared for each other, and that was enough. It was enough to start building something stronger, something more real.

As the evening wore on and the stars began to shine through the cracks in the ceiling, Ekko and Powder found themselves once again on the rooftops of Zaun, a place they often went to escape the chaos below. The city stretched out before them, a maze of shadows and light, a reflection of their lives—complicated, unpredictable, but still beautiful.

Powder leaned against the edge of the rooftop, her eyes scanning the distant horizon. "You ever think about what comes after, Ekko?" she asked, her voice distant. "After all this?"

Ekko joined her at the edge, his gaze following hers. "I try not to," he admitted. "I can't control what happens next, but I know that I want to be part of it. Whatever comes."

Powder smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached her eyes. "Yeah. Me too."

They were silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, but there was something about the quiet of the night that made everything feel more certain. The uncertainty that had been there before didn't seem so scary anymore. Together, they were building something, piece by piece, with each passing day.

When the silence stretched too long, Ekko turned to Powder, his voice soft. "I think... I think we can do this, Powder. Whatever comes. Together."

She met his gaze, her smile returning. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Together."

For a while, they sat there in the stillness, the world of Zaun stretching out around them, both of them taking comfort in the simplicity of the moment. It was a moment of peace—something rare in their lives, but something they had, right there, together. And for the first time in a long while, neither of them felt the need to rush forward. They would take it one day at a time, with each other by their side. And maybe, just maybe, that was all they needed.