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Jayce raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What kind of cuisine?”
“The kind with a brilliant mind and a pretty face. She seems particularly taken with one of Piltover’s youngest and brightest. For a moment,” Mel continued. “I thought she was talking about you.” Her laughter followed, light and musical, as she moved past him.
Jayce’s smile faltered as a sudden realisation came to the forefront of his mind.
Or, Ambessa wants to sample the local cuisine and the cuisine in question is Viktor.
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He’s not too self-conscious to scoff. “Even if I was to… 'polish the banister',” he starts, dipping down to feel for his glasses, “I wouldn't do it in the same room as you.”
“Why not?” Bill stretches his arms up and folds them behind his - well, not head. “Hasn't stopped you all the other times.”
His heart thrums hard, off-beat. His hands feel numb, heavy, like sandbags, dropping limply to press against the cool concrete floor. “What other times,” he rasps out.
Bill squints his eye in a facsimile of an unimpressed look. “Last night. Night before. Night before that. Used a pillow that time, that seemed to work pretty good-”
____________in which Ford's frustrations are getting in the way of his work, and Bill is happy to lend a helping hand!