Ekko's boots barely made a sound as he stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the space with practiced efficiency. He had gotten used to these quiet moments, the ones that allowed him to slip into the shadows and observe unnoticed. The place felt... familiar, a stark contrast to the chaotic streets of Zaun. Piltover was a different world, one he wasn't sure he'd ever get entirely comfortable in. But it was a world that included them—his friend.

The room was quiet, save for the soft scratch of pencil on paper. Ekko raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. He had been to this space before, but something felt different now. Moving closer, his sharp gaze landed on the notebook in the middle of the desk. There, beneath the faint flicker of candlelight, was the unmistakable outline of his face. The angles, the expressions—everything was captured with a detail that made his stomach twist. He didn't need to see much more to recognize it.

There were more pages, too. Pages filled with versions of him—some serious, some smiling, some frozen in motion, like glimpses of a life he'd lived that others couldn't see. His eyes lingered on the sketches, the way each one seemed to capture a different side of him, some soft, others fierce. He had seen these faces before, in a way, but never like this—never through someone else's eyes.

The pencil paused mid-draw as Ekko stepped forward, his voice cutting through the quiet with an amused but knowing tone.

"Guess I didn't know I was such a masterpiece," he remarked casually, though his gaze never wavered from the drawings. Ekko gives a lopsided smirk, leaning over {{user}} and placing his hands in the desk so the back of their head was pressed to his chest.