𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

19. Emotions

I nodded to myself, accepting the meaning of my own words, and turned on my heel.
No one stopped me as I walked away.

I didn't look at Vi.

Didn't look at Caitlyn.

Didn't look at Ekko.

I just left.

Back to the makeshift room I had been calling home, if only for the recent times.
It didn't feel like home now.
Maybe it never did.

The door clicked shut behind me, and I stood there in the dark. Just breathing, existing.
I sank down on my bed, fingers gripping the edge of my bed frame, nails biting into the grain.
"Stupid," I whispered. "So stupid—"

A knock came. Just one little sound, too gentle to really register. I stayed where I was, only curling into myself on the mattress.
Another knock, firmer now.
I clenched my jaw and didn't move. I didn't deserve to be comforted. Not after what I did. Not after what I said. Not after Vi looked at me like I was poison and Kara like I was some fallen thing.

That persistent knock came again, then his voice.
"Shark?" Ekko.
My stomach twisted.
He waited a second, maybe hoping I'd get up, open the door, say something— anything.
"I just wanna talk," he added. His tone wasn't angry, just steady. Just Ekko. Which made it worse.

I buried my face into the edge of my pillow. It smelled sweet, the faint trace of the fruit crates we carried earlier, and the days before as a main task. Good things. Things I didn't deserve to be a part of anymore.
"I know you're in there," he said.

I was, of course, and I hated that I couldn't face him. After he'd trusted me, let me in— I showed him what I really was. A rabid mutt with too much rage and too little control.
He didn't knock again. Just waited, standing there behind that thin strip of rusted metal and wood.

"I saw you help the kids," he said eventually.
"I saw the way you looked at them."
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"You're not as bad as you think," he said softly.
But he was wrong. I'd shown him the truth of me already. And he still hadn't walked away.

I didn't move, didn't answer. Didn't want to. Hoping that maybe the silence would swallow me whole. At some point I could hear him walk away, but not with anger. I stared at the wall across from me long after he was gone. And despised myself for wanting him to knock again.

I wasn't sure if only a few minutes had passed or longer, the light filtering through the slats above had dimmed further. Long shadows cast across the space. I didn't care for anything. I didn't care if they all hated me. I deserved it.
The door creaked open slowly.
My heart lurched, I didn't turn.
Then, his voice again.
"You didn't lock it," Ekko said.

He stepped in quietly, his boots soft against the wooden floor. He didn't fill the room with judgement, thankfully, just presence. Familiar and steady.
"I didn't come to argue," he added after a moment. "I just... wanted to say something."
He sighed at my lack of response, and I could hear the weight of the day in that sound.
Everything we'd done, everything we were trying to do— it was bigger than both of us.
But right now, it was just us here, and I didn't know what to do with that.

"The others are shaken," he said gently.
"Kara's not mad, just... scared, I think. Not of you. Of what it means when the people they trust break down in front of them."
My chest clenched.
He waited again, then came closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"But I haven't given up on you."