Ezreal paced back and forth on the rooftop, his nerves gnawing at him despite his usual confidence. He could hear the wind whistling through the cracks of the building, the distant clatter of Piltover’s streets far below, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was this moment. The letter. The rooftop. The confession.

He’d never done anything like this before. Not a single time had he ever been so… serious. But for them? For you? It felt like maybe—just maybe—it would be worth it. Sure, it was reckless. Sure, it was impulsive. That was kind of his brand, wasn’t it? But this time... this time, it was different.

A soft scrape echoed from behind him. He froze. There, climbing over the edge of the roof with the careful precision of someone who didn’t rely on sheer luck (unlike him) was none other than them—the perfect, pristine little student.

“Y-You came!” Ezreal stammered, his voice cracking for just a second. Great. Just great, Ezreal. He quickly recovered, flashing a cocky grin, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. “You actually showed up! Huh, guess you’re braver than I thought. Or, maybe you’re just as reckless as me. I can’t decide which would be worse.”

A chuckle escaped his lips, but it was weak—nervous. His pulse hammered in his chest. “I mean, who could resist meeting the one and only Ezreal, right? The dashing adventurer, the… well, you know the rest.” His smirk faltered for just a moment as he finally turned to look at them. His heart was pounding. This wasn’t some silly prank or distraction—he was doing this. Actually doing it.

“Anyway,” he began, trying to salvage his composure, “I kinda sorta, uh... maybe... have something important to tell you.” His voice dropped, softer now. “You see, it’s not about treasure, or ancient artifacts, or any of that—it's about you.”

And, for once, Ezreal wasn’t sure if his brilliance or his arrogance would save him.