Chapter 21: The Unspoken Shift

The days following Ekko's realization about his feelings for Powder passed in a blur. He tried to push the truth down, to bury it beneath the daily routine of building gadgets and exploring the broken streets of Zaun. He kept himself busy, kept his mind occupied, but no matter how much he tried to ignore it, his feelings for Powder only seemed to grow.

It started with the smallest things. The way she would smile at him, her eyes lighting up in that way that made his chest tighten. The way her laughter would fill the air, a sound that had always been so comforting but now felt like it was tethering him to something he wasn't sure how to handle. The way she would reach for his hand when they were in a tight spot or when she needed reassurance. The brief touch of her skin against his would send a jolt of warmth through him, one he couldn't explain or ignore.

But no matter how often they found themselves alone together, he fought to keep the truth hidden. He couldn't risk it—couldn't risk telling her what he felt, not when he wasn't even sure what it meant. What if it ruined everything? What if Powder didn't feel the same way? What if he lost the one person in his life who had been there for him through everything?

So, he did what he always did. He buried his feelings, forced them down into the pit of his stomach, and plastered a smile on his face. Everything was fine. They were still just friends. That's all they needed to be.

But the more time they spent together, the harder it became to pretend.

It was another one of their usual afternoons, filled with clanging metal and the low hum of machinery. Ekko was hunched over a broken circuit board, his hands deftly working to repair it, when he felt the familiar presence behind him.

"Need some help?" Powder asked, her voice bright and full of energy, as it always was.

Ekko hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at her. Her messy blue hair was falling into her face, and she was grinning like she always did when she was about to dive into something she had no idea how to finish.

"No thanks, I've got it," Ekko replied, trying to keep his tone casual.

But his heart was racing, his hands suddenly feeling clammy as she stepped closer. Powder leaned in over his shoulder, peering down at the circuit board in his hands.

"What's this one?" she asked, her voice a little softer now, as though she sensed something in the air between them.

"It's a stabilizer for one of the newer projects," Ekko explained, trying to focus on his work, but he could feel the heat of her presence like a weight on his chest.

Powder's fingers brushed against his hand as she reached for the tools nearby, and Ekko's breath hitched for a brief second, a shiver of warmth running through him. He quickly turned his attention back to the circuit board, but his thoughts were scattered, the quiet buzz of the workshop turning into a loud roar in his ears.

"So, how's your day been?" Powder asked casually, as if she didn't notice the tension building in the space between them.

"Same as always. Just tinkering away." Ekko shrugged, forcing a grin. "You?"

"Oh, you know, causing chaos. I might have accidentally blown up a crate in the alley." She laughed lightly, but there was a slight edge to her voice, as if she was waiting for him to react.

Ekko let out a breathy laugh, trying to keep things normal, but it felt strained. "You really need to stop doing that."

"I can't help it," she grinned, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief that always made him smile. "It's just too much fun!"

But as he looked at her, he realized just how much he cared about her. How much he needed her to be safe. It wasn't just about the pranks or the adrenaline—it was about the person she was. The person he didn't want to lose.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush aside the growing weight in his chest. "I know you like to push things, but some of these risks…" His voice faltered, his gaze lingering on her for a moment too long. "Powder, you don't have to do all that just to prove something."

She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise. "I'm not trying to prove anything," she said, her voice quieting. "I just… I don't want to be someone who hides in the background, waiting for things to happen."

"I get that," Ekko replied, his voice softer now, the words more vulnerable than he intended. "But you don't have to be reckless to be important."

There was a long pause, and Powder seemed to be studying him, her blue eyes searching his face. He couldn't look away.

"Ekko, what's going on with you today?" she asked, her voice unusually serious.

He stiffened, not sure how to answer her. How could he explain what he was feeling without ruining everything? He could feel the walls closing in on him. She was too close, her presence too overwhelming, and yet, he couldn't pull away.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Just thinking about… stuff."

But Powder wasn't convinced. "You've been weird lately," she said, frowning. "What's going on?"

Ekko felt his stomach twist at the worry in her voice. She was concerned about him. She always was.

"I told you, it's nothing," he replied quickly, forcing a smile that felt too tight on his face. "Let's just get back to fixing this."

Over the next few days, Ekko tried to keep his feelings buried deeper, but the more he spent time with Powder, the harder it became. There was no escaping her, no pretending that things were just the same as before. Every touch, every laugh, every lingering look sent his heart racing. And he couldn't seem to control it.

Powder seemed to sense the change, though she didn't comment on it directly. She was more withdrawn, her usual playful attitude tempered with a quiet curiosity, as if she was trying to figure him out. She noticed the small things—the way his hands trembled slightly when they touched, the way he hesitated before meeting her eyes, the way his words faltered when they spoke.

One night, after a long day of tinkering with a new invention, they found themselves alone in the warehouse again. It had become their place of refuge, their shared space to escape the chaos of the world outside.

Ekko sat on a crate, his mind racing, his hands restless. Powder stood across from him, absentmindedly fiddling with a small piece of metal, but her gaze kept flicking to him, watching him with a new intensity.

"Ekko," she said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the serious expression on her face.

"Are you really okay?" she asked, her voice quiet but insistent.

Ekko opened his mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in his throat. How could he explain it to her? How could he tell her that everything felt different, that his feelings for her were shifting, growing into something he wasn't sure how to handle?

Instead, he just shrugged, his gaze drifting away from hers. "I'm fine, Powder."

But as he looked at her, his chest tightened, and the truth hit him harder than ever before.

I'm not fine. Not really.

And no matter how much he tried to hide it, everything between them had already changed.

Later that night, as Ekko lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of something he couldn't control. He could feel the pull between them, the unspoken shift that had taken place between him and Powder, and it was terrifying.

The more he tried to push it down, the more it seemed to grow. But now, as he lay there, it wasn't just about his feelings anymore. It was about the change in their dynamic, the change in them.

He wasn't sure what the future held, or where his feelings for Powder would lead, but he knew one thing for sure: they couldn't go back to the way things were.

Not anymore.

And that thought both terrified and thrilled him in equal measure.