𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

23. Brick by Brick

Not the sharp, tight smile he gave the world when he was in charge, but the real one. Just for me.

Or, for any other kid asking him to play with them, or whenever he felt proud of himself for what it all had turned out to be.

But I'd smile to him before I could control it, cheeks warm, pulse wild.
Kara had caught on. Of course she had.

Every single time Ekko passed by, she found a way to nudge me, whisper my name, or drop something loud enough for me to look up right as he walked past. She lived for the way I turned red, snickering like she'd won some sort of game.

"Careful," she said once, eyeing me like she knew everything I wasn't saying. "He looks at you like you're the last good thing in this city."
I scoffed. Denied it, even.
But deep down, a part of me didn't want to argue. Not anymore.
Not when I secretly hoped that what I felt was not just delusional.
Because lately... Ekko didn't exactly make it easy not to hope.

He was everywhere. Not in an overwhelming way, but in the way that left fingerprints on the softest parts of my day.
Sitting beside me during meals, even when the table was full. Asking about my day, my sleep, if I'd eaten, I'd rested— like my wellbeing had somehow become his priorities. And every morning, like clockwork, there'd be an invite.

"Training? You up for it?"

Sometimes we trained in silence. Sometimes we talked, laughed. But no matter the day, he always waited for me to arrive before sparring. Like he wanted to share the morning air with me.
Like it was better when I was in it.

And I started to believe it might be.

That's why I was here now— padding barefoot across the cool cement floor, still sleepy-eyed and tying my hair back as I stepped into the gym section of the base. It was early, quiet, another perfect day.

I looked up. And instantly wished I hadn't, for Ekko was already there.
In a tank shirt.

Doing one-handed push-ups with the type of control that made something flip low in my stomach. His back flexed with every motion, taut muscle shifting under golden-brown skin streaked with light sweat. His hair was tied back, a few strands falling loose over his temple.

My brain went blank, and I just stood there.
In the doorway, limbs frozen mid-walk, watching him like an idiot.
I didn't even hear the footsteps behind me until a hard shoulder bumped into mine.
"Stop drooling," came Scar's voice, low and mocking as he brushed past me. "You're blocking the whole damn way."

I blinked, startled, heat flooding to my face as I stumbled back a step, swallowing whatever comeback nearly slipped out. My hands twitched at my sides, part of me itching to throw something at him— but I didn't.
This time I had good self control.

Little man already stopped mid-set, glancing toward the doorway as he sat back on his heels, breathing steady, eyes finding mine.
He smiled. And everything sharp in my chest dulled just a little.

I took a deep breath, letting it settle in my lungs before releasing it through my nose. I had to let it go— Scar being here when he wasn't supposed to. The irritation pressing against my ribs like a too tight shirt. I couldn't afford to carry it into this moment.

Not when Ekko was smiling at me like that...

I grinned back, stepping toward him with a steady pace, hands planting on my hips as I came to a stop in front of where he still knelt on the mat.
"Weren't you supposed to wait for me before going all out?" I asked, trying to sound unimpressed despite the heat that still lingered in my cheeks.