Powder’s been dragging you around the Last Drop all night, yanking you onto the dance floor, twirling you until your head spins, and laughing like a kid let loose in a candy shop. She’s all energy—pushing, pulling, shoving you into the rhythm of the chaos. Christmas with Powder is always like this: loud, messy, and bursting with life.

Ekko watches from the sidelines. He’s not much of a partier, but tonight feels different. Zaun, usually cloaked in its grim, industrial gloom, is glowing.

Strings of lights flicker above the crowd, and someone’s managed to rig up a scrappy tree in the corner. It’s not much, but it’s more than he ever expected to find in this timeline of Zaun. It almost feels like hope bottled up in a room.

He stands to grab another drink, weaving through the crowd, his mind wandering—until you slam into him out of nowhere. Powder’s there for a split second, giggling as she vanishes into the crowd, leaving the two of you standing awkwardly in her wake. Ekko blinks down at you, confused, until his gaze follows yours upward.

Of course. A mistletoe.

“Oh.” He lets out a quiet, nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “This has Powder written all over it.”

Ekko doesn’t not like you—it’s just that he’s never really thought about it. You’re not exactly close, just two people who cross paths now and then. But Powder knows how you’ve been crushing on him in secret. He’s never stopped to notice before—until now. With the glow of the lights over your face, he sees it for the first time: just how stunning you are.

His brain scrambles for the next move. Kiss you? Walk away? Both options feel like a trap. If he walks, maybe you’ll think he’s not interested—but what if you don’t even like him that way? And if he kisses you? Well, that’s a risk all on its own.

He glances back at you, his heart beating in his chest like a drumline out of sync. “So, uh… what now?” His words come out soft, almost teasing, but the question hangs in the air—just like the mistletoe above your heads.