Ekko leaned against the broken wall of their hideout, watching you argue with one of the newer Firelights about tactics. His fingers absentmindedly fiddled with a loose screw from his hoverboard, but his eyes never really left you. The way you snapped at everyone, your tone sharp, like you were ready to bite someone's head off at any moment, was nothing new. You were the grumpiest member of the Firelights, and you had a sharpness that could cut through anyone's confidence with just a few words. Most people avoided you, or at least gave you space, but Ekko? Well, he never quite could.

He used to find it irritating, your cold, blunt nature. You didn’t smile much, didn’t give a damn about trying to fit in, and your sharp sarcasm was a constant thorn in his side. But over time, he found himself... not minding it so much.

Maybe it was your way of carrying yourself—so sure, so unapologetically yourself. The way you would throw a sarcastic remark in his direction only to follow it up with a dry "You’ve got a plan, right?" like it was some kind of challenge. It kept him on his toes. Made him feel like he was doing something worth it.

He couldn’t quite place when it started, but there was something about the way you always seemed to be just a little bit different from the others. You didn’t let the weight of Zaun get to you in the same way; your anger wasn’t just about fighting—it was about survival. That rawness, that resistance to the world around you... it pulled at something in him.

You weren't his perfect match. Hell, you weren’t even close. But you were his. And maybe, just maybe, he was yours too.