Ezreal Enjoyer

League of Legends

Ezreal

Huddle For Warmth | 18+

A night spent in an abandoned outpost in Freljord changes your friendship with Ezreal.

Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Henry

Obsessively Infatuated | 18+

The first time you had met Henry was shortly after your family had settled in Skalitz. You moved there from Prague after your grandfather had died, leaving his apothecary shop for your father to take over. But your father was a trained physician, so it did not take long until people would come to your shop not only for potions, herbs and ointments, but also in hopes of more extensive medical care. After all, Sir Radzig’s court physician was expensive and not often available to the common folk.

You had seen Henry around town many times, but never officially met him. That was, until one evening in late spring.

Your parents had left on a trip to Talmberg, leaving the Apothecary shop in the care of your older brother and you for a few days.

The shop had already been closed for the day, with your brother having gone to the tavern to meet his friends.

You, on the other hand, were occupied with your evening chores around the shop.

And when those were done, you were too tired to do anything except sleep. That was, until a loud noise ripped you from your slumber in the middle of the night.

Heavy pounding sounded against the front door of the house, jolting you upright in your bed. You nervously gripped the gray sheet that you used as a blanket, as the pounding continued. You glanced over to the other bed in the room, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth at the realisation that your brother had not yet returned, making you the only one at home.

Another round of poundings rattled the wooden door, sounding weaker this time, and you could make out a voice calling out. You sighed, your curiosity winning over, as you got up, grabbing the lantern off the small wooden stool between your and Jakub’s beds, before slowly descending the stairs that lead down to the shop area.

More knocking and a muffled groan came from behind the door.

“Who goes there!?” you called out warily, keeping a few steps of distance between yourself and the door.

“Sister! Open the door…” your brother's slurred words came as a response. “We need… your help-”

Your eyes widened as you quickly put down the lantern to the floor, hurrying over to the door before swinging it open to reveal two hunched figures standing in the night.

“Jakub!” you exclaimed. “What is going on?”

Your brother didn't respond, instead pushing past you into the house, dragging a stranger with him.

The faint light of the lantern illuminated the two figures, yet you still couldn't tell who it was that your brother brought in because his head was hanging low, obscuring his face. What you could make out however were the bruises on your brother's face, and the dark red stains on the front of the other man’s shirt.

“Jakub, what happened!?” You gasped at the sight "Who is this?”

Before responding, your brother made his way into the back part of your house, stumbling into the living area.

“We had a quarrel…” he trailed off, voice slurring drunkenly.

You huffed in annoyance. It was just like him to get into trouble the first chance he gets, with your parents out of town.

“With who?” you asked, following him up the stairs, one hand holding the lantern, the other outstretched towards his friend’s back, to provide them with stability. Jakub’s friend let out another pained groan as he was haphazardly dragged along.

“Hannes,” Jakub said. You recognised that name; you had seen him around town often, but your brother always talked negatively about him. You were about to give a comment when your brother added: “And Alex.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “The bailiff’s son? You are unbelievable…”

Jakub stumbled towards his bed, where he sat his friend down.

In the glow of the lantern, you finally recognised the unknown man as the blacksmith’s boy, Henry. His face was littered in bruises, dried blood from his nose caking his busted lips and chin. He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, swaying from side to side, pained groans interrupted by occasional drunken hiccuping.

His state made you almost feel sorry for him, if it weren't for the apparent circumstances under which he got into said state.

“Why did you bring him here?” you asked, turning towards your brother with a frown.

To your dismay, you found him slumped onto a bench near his bed, snoring quietly. You sighed defeatedly, turning back to Henry, who was now laying down. His eyes were closed, breathing heavy, as you watched him dart out his tongue over his lower lip only to wince at the contact with a split wound on the soft skin.

Your expression softened at his miserable state, and you made the decision to put your limited Apothecary knowledge to use and try to tend to his wounds.

__________________

Henry stirred awake to the slight sting as something touched the rough bruises on his knuckles.

He sharply sucked in air through his teeth, blearily opening his eyes to the sight of your unfamiliar face leaning over him. He swallowed dryly, mouth slightly agape, as he took in your form.

Your face, illuminated in the soft glow of a lantern, was gracefully framed by your hair. Your eyes, hidden behind long lashes, downcast as you gently worked on his hands. Your skin against his was smooth, your touches almost feathery. For a moment, Henry might have deliriously thought you were the Virgin Mary herself, before common sense scolded his absurdity. To him you were perfect.

You grinned sheepishly at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”

Henry blinked a couple of times, tearing himself out of his stupor. “Forgive me,” his voice was coarse and he cringed at the sound of it.

You did not respond, instead continuing to dab ointment on his knuckles before wrapping them in thin bandages.

Henry’s gaze drifted around the room before falling to the sleeping form of his friend on a bench next to the bed. Seeing Jakub suddenly brought back the memories of how he ended up here in the first place, and only then did he realise who you were. Guilt rose inside of him at the hassle the two men had apparently created for you.

He looked back at you, just as you finished bandaging his hand, holding it in yours for a moment longer.

“I am sorry for the… trouble,” he said bashfully.

To his surprising disappointment, you let go of his hand with a chuckle. “I agree, it certainly isn’t how I imagined my night to go.”

You paused, regarding him with a thoughtful expression, before adding with a quieter voice: “It’s odd we have never talked before, is it not?”

Henry nodded slowly, trying to remember anything that might contradict your statement but only drawing blanks. “I am glad we have now,” he finally said, hoping he didn’t mistake the way you cast away your gaze in flushed embarrassment at his words.

You cleared your throat, moving away from the bed. “You should sleep while you can. You are pretty battered up after all,” you said, extinguishing the lantern, leaving nothing but the silvery moonlight to aid Henry in watching your silhouette climb into bed, before closing his eyes and drifting back into unconsciousness.

_____________

The next morning, both your brother and Henry seemed to have sobered up.

You had applied another round of ointment and bandages to Henry’s wounds before he would head out to return to his own home.

“If I stay any longer, my parents might rally a search party,” he had chuckled, standing at the door that led outside.

As he said his goodbye’s, thanking you and Jakub for taking him in and caring for his injuries, his eyes remained on you for longer than what might seem usual. Your gaze found his, causing his lips to form into a small smile, eyes shining with a fond adoration unlike anything anyone has ever regarded you with. Your cheeks flushed with blossoming heat under Henry’s lingering stare, and it was only at your brother’s awkward cough breaking the silence that you tore yourself from the moment that was shared between you and Henry. Embarrassed, you averted your gaze away from Henry’s face, watching wordlessly as he finally left.

Now alone, Jakub chuckled. “What did you do to him to have him drooling over you like that?”

You huffed, brows knitted into a scowl, a hand flying out to hit your brother's shoulder. “Sakra! Don’t be ridiculous, you moron!” you exclaimed, causing Jakub to break out into loud laughter, blocking your smacks with his own hand.

Ceasing your assault, you stuck your tongue out at him. “Better start getting the shop open, before any more crap comes out of your mouth.”

He waved you off, but nevertheless made his way to the shop room of the house, still cackling, leaving you alone to tend to your own chores.

In the following weeks, you became less and less sure whether Jakub had really been as ridiculous as you had called him.

After your parents returned from Talmberg, you had significantly more free time on your hands again, meaning you got to spend more time hanging around town with your friends. Theresa was the one you’d call your best friend, having befriended her just shortly after coming to Skalitz. But you also counted Bianca, the alehouse maid, and Johanka, who you were introduced to by Theresa, as very close friends. The four of you would often spend the majority of your free time together, and even hang around the tavern if Bianca had to work for her father.

During these times, you started to run into Henry more and more often.

At first, it seemed perfectly coincidental when you saw him outside the tavern accompanied by his friends, while you and your own friends were gathered around a table, waiting for Bianca’s father to release her from her duties. He had stopped to greet you with a boyish grin, asking about your day, before being dragged off into the tavern by his friend Fritz.

You also didn’t think anything of it when you crossed paths with him every time you ran an errand for your father around town.

“You seem to have so much free time. Does your father not put you to work, strong as you are?” you had laughed on one of those occasions and the way his eyes lit up at your subtle compliment was not lost on you.

“Of course he does,” he had replied, a twinge of exasperation unmistakable in his voice, “it must be good fortune that I still find the time to run into you so often.”

“Or it’s you slacking off…,” you had suggested with a teasing smile, before parting ways with him.

It was not just coincidental run-ins however. Suddenly, Henry stopped by the apothecary more and more often. A bruise here, a cut there; one week his muscles were sore, the next he had a sudden onset of fever. Everyone, including you, assumed he just made up excuses to not have to work and hang out with Jakub instead - which he usually did after these visits. However, you occasionally caught him watching as you did your chores around the shop, perking up ever so slightly if your gaze found his, a jovial smile forming on his lips.

In turn, it seemed that said chores took you on more trips to Henry’s father, the blacksmith, than usual. The fence around your family’s property being unexplainably damaged, requiring new nails to be fixed; shop tools going missing or breaking, needing to be replaced urgently - no matter what, your errand runs to the blacksmith became as frequent as Henry’s visits to your family’s shop.

Eventually, as time went on, it became nearly inevitable to run into Henry at least once during your day. Before you even had a chance to fully realise, you found yourself looking forward to these meetings - and you could feel the dull twinge of disappointment pulling at your heart on the rare occasions you didn’t see him.

Of course you were not oblivious to the way Henry acted around you - Jakub made thoroughly sure of that with his endless teasing. You didn't ignore his longing stares in your direction, the mirthful smiles lighting up his expression or the subtle brushes of his hand against yours if you stood close enough. But, it was never more than that, never more than distant affection; yet you could not help but find comfort in his fondness of you.

And it was only weeks later, during a warm summer afternoon, that your gentle yet stagnant relationship would change.

______________

The sun was swelling hot in the sky, as Henry walked the familiar trek to your family’s house.

Nearing the building, he spotted Jakub hammering away at the wooden fence in front of him, trying to keep a plank upright without hitting his fingers. A faint sense of guilt rose up in Henry’s chest as the memory of kicking the fence’s post, breaking the attached planks in the process, invaded his mind. He quickly swallowed the feeling down, reminding himself that his actions were with noble intent and Jakub surely didn’t mind the extra work since it was for a good cause.

Henry came to a halt in front of his friend, who looked up at him with a flash of recognition glinting in his eyes.

“How kind of you to come and keep your best friend company during his hard work,” Jakub said conspiratorially. “Assuming that’s why you’re here, of course.”

“Why else would I be here?” Henry said innocently, leaning against an undamaged fence post next to the broken one.

Jakub regarded him with a knowing look. “Henry, I know what you are doing.”

Henry’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the statement, guilt again rising up his throat like bile, this time mixed with panic. His eyes flitted to the broken planks on the ground and to the familiar nails in his friend’s hand. Did Jakub really know?

“Wha- How do you-,” Henry stammered, frantically racking his brain for an excuse.

Jakub interrupted him with a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “You are so painfully obvious. The way you are trailing around everyday like a lovesick fool, hoping to run into my sister.”

Henry blinked at his friend perplexed, before letting out a relieved breath. He felt his face grow hot at the realisation of Jakub knowing about his infatuation; but it was better than knowing what he got up to at night around the Apothecary shop.

A bashful grin broke out on Henry’s face, due to both relief and embarrassment. He scratched the back of his neck, before asking: “Does it bother you?”

Jakub remained thoughtfully silent for a couple seconds, hammering wordlessly at the plank in front of him. “It’s fun, watching you dance around her,” he finally said. Looking up, he added in a more serious tone: “Make sure not to turn it un-fun, Hal.”

Henry nodded; he understood Jakub’s meaning perfectly - ‘Don’t hurt my sister’.

Jakub spoke up again, before Henry’s thoughts could dwell on the warning. “On that note, she isn’t here. I believe she went to the pond with her friends.”

Henry’s eyes lit up at the information, thanking Jakub, before leaving him with a promise to stop by and chat later. The sliver of guilt at his own involvement in his friend’s predicament was immediately forgotten, replaced with a rush of excitement at the thought of seeing you, as he hurried along the path through town that led to the pond that Jakub mentioned.

________________

You sat on the grass at the very edge of the pond, dangling your feet loosely into the cool water.

Next to you, Theresa did the same. Behind you, Bianca and Johanka sat cross-legged in the meadow, picking daisies to weave them into delicate flower crowns.

Johanka sighed. “I just don’t believe he even sees me.”

“Matthias will come around eventually,” Theresa assured her, to which you and Bianca hummed in agreement.

“But not soon enough to ask me to the dance,” Johanka whined, causing you to send a sympathetic smile her way.

The four of you had been talking about tomorrow’s village dance for quite a while. Theresa and Bianca had been invited by Matthew and Fritz respectively, and Johanka was holding out hope for Matthias. No one had asked you yet, and you started to doubt anyone would at this point. Bianca had offered to get her brother Adam to take you, but you declined; the awkwardness of forcing someone to be your dance partner would be too much to bear. So you just resigned yourself to the very real possibility of going to the dance alone. You had even joked about taking Johanka, if Matthias would not, to which she had simply given you an affronted pout.

You could not deny the part of yourself that was disappointed that Henry hadn’t invited you, with the way the two of you had seemingly been dancing around each other for the last few months.

You lied down on the grass with a quiet sigh, staring into the blue sky, feet sploshing lightly in the water.

As if she could read your mind, Theresa said with a mischievous tint to her voice: “It’s odd Henry hasn’t tried inviting you, is it not, (Y/N)?”

You furrowed your brows at her teasing question.

“Now that you say it, Theresa, it does seem strange, what with all the time they spend together lately,” Bianca mused, before you could even think of a response.

“Maybe he is shy and waiting for her to invite him instead,” Johanka chimed in.

You craned your neck to where she was sitting, shooting her a glare. “Maybe the same is true for Matthias,” you retorted, playfully sticking out your tongue at your friend, earning yet another pout from her.

Before she had the chance to respond, Theresa made a shushing sound, whispering: “Speak of the devil!”

You abruptly sat up, looking around to see Henry walking off the path that led past the pond, making his way towards your group.

When he came to a halt with a greeting, he gave everyone a once-over, before resting his gaze on you. You looked at him expectantly, as you were sure the others did as well.

Before he had the chance to say anything else, Bianca interrupted him. “So, what brings you to us?” she asked, with a playful eagerness lacing her voice.

Henry chuckled bashfully. “I was hoping to talk to (Y/N). Maybe alone…,” he trailed off.

His words prompted you to get up to follow him to a spot out of earshot from your nosy friends, if it weren’t for a hand next to you giving the hem of your dress a subtle but firm tug to keep you in place.

“But she is sitting here so comfortably. Surely you can speak freely in front of us too, can you not?” Theresa chimed in, causing you to roll your eyes slightly at their transparency. They could not make their curiosity any more obvious.

Henry glanced at you, presumably searching for help but you just nodded at him with a smile, a part of you not minding seeing him being put on the spot.

“All right then,” he breathed, focusing his attention fully back on you, “would you like to accompany me to the dance tomorrow?”

Now it was your turn to be put on the spot, as your friends’ heads quickly turned towards you, their eyebrows raised expectantly.

Beneath your surprise at the invitation and the tension of the girls’ bated breaths, your heart swelled with a mixture of relief and joy. While you had never explicitly voiced it to anyone, you wouldn’t deny that you did indeed feel the gentle pull of a blossoming infatuation drawing you to Henry.

Your smile grew involuntarily wider, as you nodded quickly. “I would like that very much.”

In an instant, any trace of shyness was wiped off Henry’s features, the boyish grin that he sported so often returning to his lips.

“I’ll see you then,” he nodded, more to himself than anyone else. He turned around with a slight spring to his step, leaving you to look forward to the next day.

Before he was even really out of earshot - let alone sight - you and your friends broke out into excited giggles.

____________

The next evening, hours after he had picked you up from your home and taken you to the dance, Henry was sitting on a wooden bench against the tavern’s outside wall, a half-full tankard of beer in his hand. Next to him, Fritz, Matthias and Matthew were talking, their words more slurred than not, occasionally roping him into the conversation.

But Henry’s gaze remained fixed on you, swirling around the tavern’s yard with the other women, dancing mirthfully to the music. He watched you link your arm with Johanka’s, straining his ears to catch the tune of your voice over the crowd, as you laughed at something your friend had whispered to you.

Henry himself had danced with you to many songs over the course of the evening, until you had insisted on spending time with your friends as well - with a twinge of concealed disappointment Henry had settled on just watching you instead, content with the occasional smiles you threw his way, eager to reciprocate them.

In-between staring at you and occasionally tearing his eyes away to pay attention to the friends next to him, he noticed Zbyshek, leaning against a tree a small distance away. The other man’s eyes had been transfixed on the dancing crowd for a while, and when Henry eventually followed his gaze, he realised that Zbyshek had been staring at you in much the same way he had done himself.

Henry’s brows knitted into a scowl at the sight, his jaw hardening from his teeth grinding together. He already disliked Zbyshek enough due to the man’s cowardice and antagonizing behaviour towards him and his friend; he did not need other reasons for his disdain. But the way Zbyshek’s eyes followed you as if in a trance, the way his mouth was slightly parted, his eyes half-lidded; it made Henry’s blood boil. He thought the tankard in his hand might have burst if he had gripped it any harder, undecided if he should pretend it was Zbyshek’s face or simply throw it into the very same.

Relieving Henry of the burden of making a decision, the other male’s gaze flitted to where he was sat, as if his seething thoughts were loud enough to hear. Zbyshek’s eyes widened, before quickly looking away, making his way towards the crowd and out of Henry’s sight. With half a mind to follow him, Henry was snapped out of his angry daze by your voice calling out to him. You came to a stop in front of him, out of breath, radiant with glee, and it was as if Henry’s ire was soothed at the snap of a finger.

“Someone brought up the idea of playing Hide and Seek in the forest, will you come with us?” you asked excitedly, a faint but unmistakable lilt of alcohol in your voice.

Henry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The forest!? You couldn’t have picked a less dangerous place?”

You groaned playfully. “Oh don’t be a chicken, Henry!” you said, adding with a wink: “Besides, you guys will be there to protect us.”

Henry could not refuse you even if he wanted, especially not at the prospect of you relying on him to keep you safe. So he agreed, and along with Matthew, Matthias and Fritz he joined the group. The fact that Zbyshek tagged along as well was not lost on Henry, a dull annoyance settling in the back of his mind.

The trek to the forest was spent with jovial chatter and shared sips from wineskins that Bianca had smuggled out of the tavern. Henry for his part was torn between the cheerful mood of the group and the irate itch he felt at the sight of Zbshek trailing so close to you. Did he not know that you came to the dance with him, accepted his invitation? Did he not know that you were his alone?

Henry swallowed thickly, pushing his indignation to the bottom of his thoughts, shifting his attention to your voice as you giggled with Theresa, and at the occasional brushes of your knuckles against his own.

Eventually, the group reached a small moonlit clearing in the woods and Matthew volunteered to be the first seeker. After deciding on the bounds of where to hide, determined by recognizable sites in the forest, everyone scattered in pursuit of a hiding spot, leaving Matthew to wait with a small lantern in his hand.

The forest itself was much darker than the clearing, but still the canopy of the trees was sparse enough to allow sufficient moonlight to illuminate the ground. Thanks to that, Henry noticed Zbyshek following a distance behind you instead of searching a solitary hiding spot like everyone else. A scowl returned to Henry’s face, new white-hot fire traveling through his veins at the sight and he decided to follow as well, if only to uphold his unspoken promise to keep you safe for he didn’t trust Zbyshek any farther than he could throw him.

He trailed closely behind the other man, far enough to go unnoticed, but close enough to still glimpse the red colour of the cowl he wore. Henry wondered if you were still in the vicinity as well, since he lost sight of you due to the dark shadows between the trees. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by your voice ringing out a good distance ahead of him.

“Get lost, Zbyshek! You’re gonna get me found,” you called out to your pursuer, before quick rustling of leaves and breaking of twigs led Henry to believe you ran away in order to shake off Zbyshek.

The man in question looked around dumbfounded, seemingly trying to discern where you made off to, and Henry took the opportunity to catch up to him.

“Looking for someone?” Henry spoke through the darkness, causing Zbyshek to turn around, eyes widening.

“What’s it to you?” he retorted, chin raised defiantly.

Henry huffed at Zbyshek’s behaviour, eyes narrowing with anger. “I saw you stalking behind (Y/N).”

Zbyshek’s expression faltered at the accusation. “That’s none of your business.”

Henry shook his head, stepping closer to the other man. “I think it is,” he said, shoving Zbyshek’s shoulder’s roughly to accentuate his point. “Stay away from her.”

Zbyshek’s face contorted with exasperation when he mimicked Henry’s gesture. “She doesn’t belong to you,” he spat, teeth bared.

Every ounce of white-hot anger that Henry had suppressed over the evening bubbled up inside of him. Searing rage boiled his blood, travelling through his veins to his hand that he clenched into a fist - so tight that his fingernails dug into his palm, breaking the skin. The resulting sharp pain should have alarmed Henry, if it hadn’t been for his attention wholly focused on Zbyshek in front of him.

When Zbyshek called Henry pathetic, the words barely reached his ears, before the man’s words were cut off by the ugly crack of his nose caving under Henry’s fist.

________

After having shaken off Zbyshek, you had found a hiding spot at a small rock formation. It covered you from a lot of sides and would allow you to circle around to avoid Matthew, should he make his way to you.

It didn’t take long for you to hear rustling close to you, and you pressed closer to the rock, prepared to slip away. However, the noise was all there was - no sight of the lantern light that should accompany Matthew.

You furrowed your brows as the rustling grew louder, your first thought assuming it was Zbyshek once more trying to tail you.

You knew you should stay hidden, because for all you knew it might have been a wild animal, but curiosity took over your ale-addled mind and you opened your mouth to whisper-shout: “Who’s there?”

The noise ceased immediately, replaced by a tense silence. Your heart pounded in your chest, blood thumping in your ears with anticipation. Your mind swirled with regret and fear; what if you really had just attracted a dangerous animal to you - or worse, a bandit?

You held your breath for what felt like forever, until finally a familiar voice called out your name.

You exhaled, relieved at the sound, and emerged from your hiding spot.

“Henry!” you called out, relief lacing your voice with a newfound mirth. “Why aren’t you hiding?”

He took slow steps towards you, as he said “I was looking for you.”, earning a chuckle from you.

“That’s not how the game works, Hal…” you said, but trailed off when Henry was finally close enough for you to properly see him under the moonlight. He looked disheveled, more so than usual. His shirt was displaced and slightly torn, wetly darkened in various spots. What looked like blood gushed from his nose over his mouth to his chin, smudged where he must have tried to wipe it off. Your gaze travelled over his face, bruises and cuts littering the skin. It was almost like the very first time you had met him all those weeks ago in the Apothecary shop where you had nursed his wounds.

Almost - because back then his stare didn’t fill you with an odd sense of dread.

“What happened?” you whispered hoarsely, throat dry from nervousness, as you took a small step back.

As if sensing your unease, Henry’s gaze softened and he quickly closed the distance between you, hands placed on either of your arms. “I was looking for you,” he repeated, before adding: “I saw Zbyshek following you, so I wanted to make sure you are fine.”

Your brows knitted in confusion at his explanation. “Zbyshek…?” you spoke slowly, gaze wandering to the dark blotches on his shirt, now clearly recognizing the dull crimson. Your eyes widened in shock. “Henry, what did you do?” you asked, grimacing at all the possible answers to your question swimming around in your thoughts.

“I…” Henry stammered, desperation trickling into his voice. “I did what I had to! I only meant to protect you!”

Your stomach churned at the implication of his confession. You gulped hard, trying to keep the rising nausea at bay, before speaking once more, voice quivering. “How could you?”

“For you!” he spoke without letting so much as a second pass, pleading eyes searching for your own. “I did it for you,” he said, tightening his grip around your arms, forcing you back until you hit the rough bark of a tree.

Now you were truly trapped, and another wave of dread followed suit behind your realization. It was dizzying how fast the comfort that Henry’s presence had once brought you turned into fright; how his touch caused your skin to sear with panic; how his gaze elicited a shiver of fear to run down your spine.

But as you regarded his frantic expression, the way his eyes begged for your approval - your forgiveness - a small part of your mind, one that resided outside of sanity, wondered if you could ever be truly scared of Henry.

As if hearing your conflicting thoughts, Henry loosened his grip on your arms, instead settling his hands on your cheeks. He drew his face so close to yours that your noses were almost touching, the metallic tang of blood invading your senses in a dizzying haze.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught the same crimson colour that stained his face, glistening on his teeth. “I do everything for you,” he stressed with a whisper meant for your ears alone, so low that the forest itself could not have possibly heard it. “You are everything.”

You gasped at his admission, your breath hitching in your throat. Your eyes rapidly flickered between his, unsure of what to say. The flushing heat that crept its way onto your neck and face felt indecently out-of-place when the scent of blood was still a constant reminder of the situation you were really in. Your heart beat so fast, it might have threatened to jump out of your chest, if it weren’t for the aching tugs of clashing emotions threatening to tear it apart.

Your silence urged Henry to speak once more, now even closer than before, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. “May I kiss you?”

It was less a question and more a plea, a desperate demand almost. You wanted to tell him no, to push him away and call for help. But that was a task for the sane and logical part of your mind; not for the foolishly infatuated part that had wrestled itself into control slowly but surely. And against your better judgement, you answered Henry with a breathless ‘Yes’ muttered against his already impossibly close lips.

The kiss was intoxicating and nauseating at the same time, tasting bitter and sweet all at once. Henry roughly pressed against your lips, tightening his hold around your face.

You closed your eyes, hands grasping at Henry’s torn shirt. His tongue grazed over your lips and without much thought you parted them enough to allow the kiss to deepen, growing more fervent by the second. Slowly, his grip on your head loosened, as his gentle yet desperate touch trailed past your neck, grazing along your breasts and sliding over your hips.

A surprised gasp caught in your throat when he gripped the fabric of your dress, pulling it dangerously up your legs.

You tore yourself from the kiss, hands flying down to stop the movements of his arms. “Henry,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “we shouldn't do this.”

Henry regarded you with a confused - almost pained - expression, his hands still holding the hem of your dress close to your thighs. “Why?” he asked. “Don't you want me?”

You met his eyes, biting your lips nervously under his pleading gaze. “I do,” you responded, “but the others will come looking for us. What if they find us here; find you - looking like this?” Your eyes flitted to the blood on his face and clothes. The reality of the situation you were in was not entirely forgotten; only pushed further into the recesses of your mind when Henry captured your lips in a kiss once more.

“Let them,” he breathed against you in-between kisses.

“I don't care.” He trailed down, planting rough kisses in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing against the soft skin.

“Let them know how much I need you.” He dragged the fabric of your dress further up to your waist, exposing you to the night air, its coldness only surpassed by the heat blooming throughout your body.

“Let them see that you are mine,” he spoke, pulling your hips towards himself, the hardness of his groin pressing flush against you.

One hand holding your dress, the other dug into the soft flesh of your butt with urgent fingers, eliciting a moan from you at the painful yet pleasant sensation.

You hand wove into his hair, fingers lightly tugging at his dark locks, drawing a low groan from Henry. You dragged him away from your throat, meeting his half-lidded gaze. All of your concerns abandoned, you drew him in for another kiss, swollen lips moving against each other, even more feverish than before.

Henry’s free hand wandered along your thigh, hooking behind the back of your knee, holding your leg to his side and pressing closer into you. You hummed in content when he rolled his hips against yours, his clothed length rubbing against your heat. You felt a warm dampness pooling between your legs and you had no doubt there would be a wet spot on Henry's pants where you two met.

Pressing you more into the tree to keep your dress in place, Henry's fingers trailed across your stomach towards the apex of your thighs, leaving goosebumps of anticipation tingling on your skin.

Just as Henry's thumb ghosted ever so slightly over your clit, loud voices rang out near you.

You broke away from the kiss, spotting a light from the direction of the voices, realising they were calling your names. Despite Henry's earlier professions about his indifference towards being caught, the reality of that possibility made it hard for you to share his sentiment, so you quickly pushed him away from you, earning a surprised yet irritated grunt.

“Sakra! It's Matthew and the others,” you whispered, panicked, smoothing your dress back in place to cover your private parts.

Henry stepped closer to you again. “I told you, I don't care-”

“But I do, Henry,” you interrupted him. “You’ll be in huge shit if they see you like this.”

He regarded you with a mix of defiance, but also understanding and even a faint trace of guilt.

“You should go. We’ll say later you were attacked by a wild animal, or something like that…,” you trailed off with a mutter, not entirely convinced about the validity of your plan.

Henry nodded slowly, before pressing another kiss to your lips, the smell of blood once again becoming present to your senses.

“I’ll meet you later,” he breathed, before hurrying off into the woods.

“Of course…” you whispered to yourself.

Now that he was gone, the gravity of the situation settled heavy on your mind. Henry had done something horrible, and yet you had been willing to give yourself to him, not to mention covering for him in front of your friends and possibly everyone else.

The cold in Freljord is brutal and unrelenting, just like its people. That is what you had been taught your entire life - a life that had been spent in the temperate climate of Piltover. In school you were taught about all the nations of Runeterra, Freljord just one of them. You learned about the climate, the culture, the wildlife and most importantly about how dangerous and unforgiving the land was. 

No amount of education could have prepared you for the harsh reality of it all. 

You shivered, teeth chattering, as you squeezed your arms tighter around yourself to try and keep what little warmth you had to yourself. 

Next to you, your companion seemed a little less bothered by the freezing wind. ‘A true adventurer’ you thought to yourself. Ezreal was a tried and tested explorer who had braced many environments - unlike you, a fledgling Piltover Enforcer who had never left the city before. And yet, when you saw that a missing persons report was filed for Ezreal’s uncle, professor Lymere, you immediately volunteered to accompany the young adventurer on his journey to look for his uncle. 

By the time you lost your backpack while crossing a particularly rickety rope bridge spanning over a deep gorge, you had started to wonder if maybe you weren’t cut out for this after all. 

A bump against your shoulder tore you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see Ezreal staring down at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“You look like you are about to turn into an ice cube” he said with a playful grin, but you could make out a trace of concern in his voice. 

You huffed, hot mist floating between your lips. “I’d say I feel like one, but I’m not sure I’m feeling anything” you joked, earning a breathy chuckle from your friend. 

“We are near a science outpost from the university,” Ezreal explained, “let’s rest there and then continue north.” 

North. You shivered at the thought but eagerly nodded at the prospect of shelter. 

You continued your trek, while the sky grew darker, the snow storm around you thicker and the air colder. Now you noticed, even Ezreal was pulling his thick coat closer to his body. 

Soon enough, a small wooden hut came into view and the both of you noticeably picked up pace at the sight of shelter.

To your disappointment, once you arrived, the building looked run-down and like it hadn't been in use for a long while. 

Ezreal approached the door carefully, but with a ponderous look on his face. “Huh… they must have abandoned this outpost.”

He opened the door and once you were inside, you took a look around. The hut was made up of one big room that was illuminated by moonlight shining through the windows, and a second adjacent room, that you assumed to be a small bathroom. The floor was dirty and the wood creaked under your steps. Most of the furniture was either broken or knocked over and one of the shack’s windows had a hole in it, letting in a steady stream of cold air.

You sighed. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Ezreal shrugged with a crooked smile. “Make do with what we have?”  

You watched him approach a wooden shelf that was knocked to the ground. “Here, help me with this” he said and together you lifted the furniture upright, dragging in front of the broken window, creating a makeshift shielding from the cold gust.

Ezreal nodded with a satisfied look on his face. "See?" he said, "First step taken - more to go!” 

“If you say so…” you looked at the banged up room with doubt to which your friend shrugged nonchalantly.

“Believe me, I have slept in much worse conditions.” 

You raised a questioning eyebrow at that, but Ezreal didn't elaborate further, instead retorting with a shuddered “Much worse…” before returning to his endeavor in bringing the hut into a somewhat acceptable state. He started rummaging through cabinets in pursuit of anything useful.

Meanwhile, you grabbed a beat up broom from a corner and decided to sweep a spot of the room that you assessed could make a good place to sleep.

After a while, Ezreal let out a triumphant Aha!, holding up blankets that he found in a cabinet, along with several thick furs. He carried the blankets and furs over to the spot you had cleaned to the best of your abilities. 

Soon enough, Ezreal created a soft make-shift bed that looked almost cozy, given the circumstances. 

“Looks great!” you said, earning a proud grin from your friend. A yawn escaped your mouth, the sight of a bed reminding you of just how tired and exhausted you were - and how cold. You just wanted to bundle up under the thick blankets that were laid out. 

“I’ll take my sleeping bag,” Ezreal chimed in, as if reading your thoughts, rummaging through his backpack. “You sleep on the furs. Since your backpack has mysteriously disappeared…”

With a wink, he pulled out his brown, fur-lined bedroll. 

You rolled your eyes half-jokingly at his jab, watching him spread the sleeping bag next to the fur bed. 

Your coat suddenly felt very heavy on your shoulders and you felt a strong desire to shed your half-frozen clothes. You cleared your throat, causing Ezreal to look up at you.

“Would you mind… turning around?” you asked, voice faltering with embarrassment.

His eyes went wide for just a second, before turning around. “Of course!” 

There was a moment of silence in which neither of you moved or did anything, before Ezreal spoke up again. “You as well, okay?”

And you obliged, understanding the implication of his intentions. 

The awkward silence that hung in the room was only interrupted by the shuffling of clothing, as both of you undressed. You peeled off your coat that was still covered in crystalline snow, laying it on a nearby table. The rest of your clothes felt just as damp and cold as the coat, so you took them off too, until you were completely bare. A shiver went through you, and you walked backwards towards the make-shift bed, feeling for the fur with your hand, in order to avoid accidentally peeping on Ezreal. 

The thought of your friend being just a short distance away from you, just as naked as you were, made a juxtaposing heat rise to your cheeks. 

When you reached the furs, you quickly crawled under the thick fabric. “I am under the blanket now” you said, eyes closed. 

You heard a faint shuffling next to and a whispered ‘me too’ before you opened your eyes again.

You looked at Ezreal, whose eyes were already on you, a light blush dusting his features. 

“Try to get some sleep” he said before turning in his bedroll, facing away from you. You figured the situation must have been just as awkward for him as it was for you. 

You hummed in response, before closing your eyes again, bundling into the blankets to try and warm up. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed but both sleep and warmth seemed to elude you, no matter how long you tried. You stared up to the ceiling frustrated and still chilled to the bone and quivering, despite being burrowed in a nest of fur. For a short moment, you worried you might be hypothermic.

As a shiver jolted through you, an idea entered your mind. Body heat - the sharing of it specifically. You had been told before that it's a very efficient way to generate warmth. 

Your eyes flitted over to Ezreal’s still form, considering the idea. Embarrassment clouded your thoughts, mortified at the idea of asking your friend to get under the blankets with you. But after another particularly frigid chill traveled down your spine, you decided to swallow your shame. 

“Ezreal… Are you awake?” you whispered.

A low, questioning hum came in response, followed by him shifting to face you. 

“I am cold” you said matter-of-factly.

Ezreal sighed, nodding knowingly. “If only this place had a fireplace… and wood… and kindling… and-”

“I think I got the picture,” you interrupted him, earning a chuckle from him.

“I am cold too,” he admitted. 

You bit your lip, considering your next words. “I’ve heard sharing body heat is supposed to help…” you trailed off slightly. 

A moment of silence passed that felt like an eternity to you before Ezreal breathed out a quiet Oh. You shut your eyes, cringing inwardly, prepared to make it seem like some joke, when you heard shifting and rustling of fabric next to you. Before you knew it, the side of your blankets was lifted and lowered again. 

You tentatively opened your eyes again, only to be met with the familiar face of your friend, now much closer than ever before. 

“Hi,” he breathed with a lopsided grin. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I didn't think you’d actually do it” you let out a nervous laugh.

Ezreal shrugged. “Wouldn't want you freezing to death on your first adventure now, would we?” 

You were amazed at how calm he seemed given the circumstances. The both of you were so close together, while at least you were completely naked - and you guessed the same was true for him. It seemed almost indecent. 

You wondered if he just put up an act to keep up his usual cool demeanor.

You felt a hand tentatively reach out towards your arm, the sensation sending a tingling jolt through you. 

“May I?” Ezreal questioned, not finishing the entire sentence, but you knew what he was asking for.

You nodded slowly, swallowing dryly. 

Ezreal snaked an arm around your back, gently pulling you closer, until your chest was touching his. You could feel the muscles of his arm under you and his abs against your stomach, realizing just how fit he actually was. A blush crept up your neck, thinking about the way your breasts were squished against him, and you swore you heard him let out a shaky breath as he flung his other arm over your side. With your knees touching, you jutted out your hips a little to create some distance between your most private parts.

You shifted your gaze to rest on Ezreal’s face. He regarded you through half-lidded eyes. 

“I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you” you whispered apologetically.

He shook his head. “Not at all.” He paused for a moment, swallowing hard before adding in a much quieter voice: “Quite the opposite actually.”

Your breath hitched at his words. Did you hear that correctly? Did he mean what he was implying? 

“Sorry” he let out a shaky laugh, “I think the proximity is fogging up my brain.” 

You tittered nervously, unsure what to say. Another silence settled over the two of you, neither saying a word, instead just staring at each other. Subconsciously, you drew closer to one another, until your faces were only a few inches apart. 

Your mouth felt impossibly dry. You had never thought about your friend that way. Of course, you could admit he was attractive but never more than a factual observation. But now? Now your thoughts were swimming with him and what he said. Your senses were foggy with his scent and the sensation of his closeness. Your eyes were glued to his face, his eyes and his lips. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” Ezreal asked, reminiscent of your earlier question. You could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke and it left a pleasant tingle on your skin.

“Quite the opposite” you mimicked his own response, your words now barely perceptible to anything but his ears. 

His face inched even closer to yours, his lips a fleeting ghost over your own. Another beat passed, another nervous swallow, another shaky breath, before the gap between you fully closed.

You pressed your lips cautiously against his, as if to test the waters, when he returned the gesture with more pressure, longing etched into his movement.

You hummed in a mix of surprise and content as your lips moved against his in a soft and steady rhythm. The kiss quickly turned more fervent, both of you feverishly dancing against each other. Ezreal's grip around your side tightened, while his other hand wandered down to your hip, squeezing experimentally. To his satisfaction, you hummed with curious desire.

You straightened out your legs, to find a warm hardness pressing against your pelvis, tentatively jutting forward to create friction, earning a surprised sound from Ezreal. Soft moans spilled out between open-mouthed kisses, as your tongues danced around each other.

Lightheadedness flooded your brain and you broke away from the kiss, staring at each other, panting for air. 

A loopy grin spread on Ezreal’s lips. “Is this how you imagined your first adventure to be?”

You giggled, before kissing him again.