𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

21. Like Old Times

Scar shoved back, snarling.
"What the hell am I thinking? She's what's wrong with all of this!" He pointed a clawed finger at me, shaking with rage.
"She brings death wherever she goes! Dren is just one of the infinite names on her kill list— she's a curse! You're just too blinded to see it!"

Ekko shoved him again, chest heaving.
"You don't get to decide who's worth saving. You don't get to take justice into your own hands here."
Scar's green eyes narrowed, burning with something deeper than what was crackling in the air in that moment— something older.
"Keep her around, and you'll get your own moment. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But it'll come. She'll destroy everything, and you'll finally see what I've been saying when it's too late."

And with that, Scar turned and stalked away, shoving past Kara and the others who had gathered in the tense silence, dagger tight in hand.

The boy saviour stood frozen, jaw clenched, shoulders taut. Then he came to me, the heat in his expression softening into something quieter, painful. He stepped to my side and extended a hand, blood rushed to my ears, throat aching from where the blade had pressed.
I pushed his hand away, got up, dusted my clothes off.

Ekko followed me with his eyes, but didn't back off. Instead, his brows furrowed as he stepped closer, fingers hovering over my chin to check the thin line the dagger had scraped.
"You're bleeding," he said, voice tight.

"I'm fine," I snapped, jerking my face away.
"Really, you need to stop saving me like I'm some damsel in distress. It's getting embarrassing."
He blinked, caught somewhere between exasperation and worry.
"Maybe stop throwing yourself into situations that require rescuing, then," he shot back, but the edge in his tone was dulled by concern.

His gaze swept over my arm, my ribs, the bruises blooming under my shirt. I shifted uncomfortably under the weight of it.
Not because I was hurt— but because I wasn't used to being seen this way. Not by him.
Not when it made my stomach feel funny, like butterflies filled it and fluttered restlessly.

"I can handle it," I added, quieter. "I just... didn't want to fight."
Ekko looked at me for a long second, I could feel my cheeks burn.
"That's what makes it worse. That you didn't want to." He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.
"I told you... this place is supposed to be safe. And I meant that for you too, no matter whatever you feel like you deserve."
I looked away, throat tightening again— and I knew it wasn't from pain. Why was he so... so...

"Are you listening?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, gaze narrowing just a little, searching mine.
I hated that my cheeks warmed up so much.
The way his voice softened when it was about me.

The way he always saw past everything I wanted to hide. And I hated even more how much I'd fallen for him— how deep the roots of it went now, curling through everything I thought I knew about myself.

I nodded absently, eyes darting to the ground to avoid how easily he unraveled me.
"Yeah... I'm listening."
"Good," he muttered, brushing a white curl out of his eyes— dark, earthy brown soil warmed by sun, with gold flickers that always caught the light just enough to feel like something alive was burning in there.

Before either of us could say more, Kara's voice cut through the tension that probably only I felt.
"Ekko, she hasn't eaten—" she called out bluntly, arms crossed as she stared straight at me.
"And don't you dare lie, Shark. I have witnesses at the kitchen. You skipped dinner."