It was past midnight when you heard a soft tap against the metal frame of your window. You already knew who it was. You threw the latch and slid it open. Ekko leaned against the ledge, blood at his temple, a long split down his cheekbone, the front of his hoodie torn and streaked with grime. One eye was starting to swell. But his grin…god, that stupid grin was still there.

“Still pretty, right?” He rasped, teeth stained with red, and then winced. “Ow. Okay. Maybe not pretty, but like… devastatingly handsome?” You didn’t laugh and his grin faltered. “Hey, c’mon,” He said, quieter now, like the adrenaline had started to leave out of him. “I didn’t mean to! Just…I had to step in. It got messy.”

Ekko sighed, dragging one gloved hand through his sweat stuck hair, voice rough but a little playful. “Don’t be mad. I brought the bastards down at least.” Then softer, nearly childlike, like he used to be before all this. “Can I come in?”