#riftwalker writes

He does not really get the approval of the tea. (We've all laughed at his expressions to the Jayce's one form that scene in the show.) Thought if you really like this drink and take his distaste too close to heart, he might just swear that it was purely Jayce's fault and awful tea-making skills and not the drink itself. Maybe after some time, you both discover that he is actually quite fond of some specific sweet blends like the berry teas. But overall, he stayed aloof to the ideas of "leaves in boiling water" type of drinks. "Firelight, c'mon! It's like drinking a medicine" - sad puppy eyes and frowning.

- Through trial and errors after almost giving up on the idea that he can enjoy anything beyond fresh water and some light booze. It is then during more cold months, when you discovered just how much of a sweet-tooth he actually is.

- Makes sense though that being from lover levels of Zaun with no access to any luxury products so popular within Piltover, he never even tried hot cocoa. Besides, in line with his altruist nature and leadership position, he would first of all try providing any kind of foods to the firelights first, not really carrying if there will be anything left afterwards for himself.

- Except, when he was swinging by your place after a frosty walk along the seaside bridge. Truly, not the smartest idea, as the winter winds left you feeling numb in your fingers and eyes all shiny from the harsh wind gusts.

- You quickly filled two cups with the hot beverage and thrusted one of them into Ekko's frostbite hands. Young man made a funny expression but complied as even if all those fancy drinks were awful to his personal taste, they at least made a good job at warming one up from the north wind currents.

You can't help but laugh at the astounded look he gives you after the first sip, the mask of pretense disgust slipping.

You move closer hiding the smile behind the rim of the cup as Ekko tries (and fails) to put on annoyed expression again. He can't though, he is too fond of those happy sparks lighting up your eyes.

"Ok, maybe you pilties have at least two good things after all."

"Two?"

The winter frost immediately spasmed your breath as you exited the building. The luck was on your side, as the heavy snowfall stop just before your evening shift finally ended. The day was especially busy and it seemed like the whole city was buzzing with energy. Soon the festival of Snowdown will come and Piltovans were laying on the local shops in desire to get all the final purchases. Such times never carried out without minor incidents.

You dragged in the cold night air, shoulders easing up a bit. The warm yellowish light from the holiday themed lanterns were pleasantly warming up the street with its light, painting the decorated buildings and store fronts in colourful glints. Most of them already closed for the night, all kinds of holiday-special products in windows waiting for the next morning jostle of customers. The owner of the little shop next door hurried past you with a polite nod and a small smile, most likely rushing to get home to a warm dinner.

You closed your eyes. The frost is slightly biting on your cheeks and nose. Not harsh enough to really hurt, but reminding you that you have to hurry home too. To finally have some rest. And to see him.

A swift motion beside you. A warmth of another body. A familiar sent and a warm hand softly brushing agains your reddened fingers. You squinted to the side. His polished to the perfection uniform looks untouched by the recent snowfall and wind. Green skin looking even more radiant under the warm lights, casting golden reflections with each move of his little cheek fins.

"Thought you were supposed to finish earlier then me?" He just casts you a glance and shrugged. So yes, you are right. Your hand intertwined fingers with his. He stiffens a bit before grasping you more firmly. Of course. He had to wait for you.

"Come in the shop if you decide to wait for me again, Steb. Or you want to get a frost bite on your gills?" A soft huff from him. Stubborn fishman. Yours, though.

Somebody silently moves at your side and for a second your nerves straighten, screaming danger, instincts recall the moments when all the hell?? broke loose. Though new second you register in conscious in peripheral vision the oh-so-familiar teal colour.

The medic enforcer settled down near you straight on the ground stairs, no usual scoffing at the inappropriate place, not even his usually fussing over you freezing your ass off on the cold stone. 

Sure, Steb was not the most talkative person before, yet now as you slightly turn to take a look at the battered medic, he seems like a ghostly version of himself. 

"As if anybody would come unscratched, both mentally and physically, form such collision" A sarcastic half smile creeps up on your expression - who else would be okay now, after practically real war just dropped on your shoulders. The tension between the cities was always there, yet never did it get as bloodthirsty as that. 

A few drops fall on your shoulder startling you out of stupor. As if in solidarity for your peoples loss the nature started crying, sky tears darkening the stones, slowly washing off the settled dust and backed blood. The fellow enforcers as well as some of the volunteers scattered to take cover, not wanting to deal on top of everything else with the wet clothes and bandages. You are not bothered though, and you doubt that your aquatic vastaya is. You cast a look at your side.

He looks lost. Usually focused and sharp eyes unfocused just as yours a few minutes ago aimlessly flowing from object to object without really looking. The borderline painful expression makes your heart sink. Though treachery always leaves ugly scars on one's heart, there were no words, you suppose, that could heal it in minutes.

You link hands and rest for a bit, silently supporting each other in hopes for a better future.

His fingers secured a grip on your hand. Usually familiarly gently, now it felt urgent, desperate. You turned your palm, and Steb immediately linked his fingers with yours.

The rain lightly fell resonating through the vast passage of the staircase, singing a calming melody only known to Janna herself, slowly slipping through the dust and blood covered clothes.

You looked to the side - Steb lifted his head to the sky with his eyes closed. you noticed his a cut on his cheekbone, most likely from stray bullet, the veins around eyes horribly reddish colour - either from the poisonous Gray or just strain from all the endless medical operations he's been performing for the past few hours. Still it was your dearest vastaya, alive and currently reassuringly squeezing your hand.

You lifted your face to the sky, closing your eyes and letting the rain wash off the sweat and dirt. It will be okay.

Not today, maybe not even in the next months, but eventually.

You know you will be.