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Mel Medarda was not the kind of woman who waited.
Yet here she was, perched in a sleek leather chair at a corner café, her gold-tipped fingers idly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. The scent of freshly ground beans wafted through the air, mingling with a light drizzle that pattered against the wide glass windows.
The smell alone was enough to make her feel alight with energy.
Checking her watch—not because she was impatient but because punctuality was a virtue she respected, Jayce Talis, it seemed, hadn't yet mastered it—her lips threatened to tilt down as she realized it was 5 minutes past when the doe-eyed man was supposed to be here.
Just as she was about to heave a breath the sound of a bell jingle had her head tilting towards the café door as it swung open. If anyone claimed her breath hitched a little she’d deny it vehemently.
Jayce rushed in, his wind-tousled hair sticking up in odd angles and his scarf, the one she gifted him for his birthday, nearly unraveling from his neck. His face lit up when he spotted her, his boyish grin a stark contrast to her composed demeanor.
He was … disarming.
"Sorry I'm late," he panted, setting a small box on the table before shrugging off his coat. "I got caught up at the lab. Again."
Mel arched an elegant brow, leaning back in her chair as she regarded him. "You do realize the concept of time exists outside of your experiments, yes?"
Jayce chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "I know, I know. But—" he gestured toward the box—"I think this might make up for it."
Mel tilted her head, intrigued despite herself. "Do tell."
He opened the box, revealing a pair of sleek, polished glasses. Not ordinary ones, though—these were unmistakably Hextech.
"I’ve been working on something to help people who have trouble seeing clearly," Jayce explained, his words tumbling over each other in excitement. "These glasses adjust automatically to different lighting conditions and magnifications. I thought you might want to test them out. You’re always noticing things no one else does."
Mel blinked, caught off guard by the sentiment. It wasn’t the invention itself that struck her—it was the way Jayce looked at her, as if she were the axis around which his world spun. As if her opinion held the weight to sway his mind easily.
See, he was disarming.
"Flattery will only get you so far," she murmured, though her lips curved into a faint smile. A neat row of perfect whites flashing briefly.
He grinned, sliding the glasses across the table. "Try them. I promise they’ll make even your perfect vision better."
She hesitated for a moment, then picked them up, slipping them on. The world sharpened in an instant—the details of the raindrops on the window, the grain of the wooden table, the faint freckles dusting Jayce’s cheeks.
"Impressive," she admitted, leaning forward. "You might actually be on to something."
Jayce beamed, his excitement practically radiating from him. "Really? You think so?"
Mel nodded, taking a slow sip of her coffee as she studied him over the rim of her cup. "You have vision, Jayce. Not just with Hextech, but with people. You see potential where others see obstacles. That’s rare."
His cheeks flushed at the compliment, and he scratched his neck again—a telltale sign of his nervousness around her. "Well, someone has to keep up with you."
She smirked, setting the coffee cup down. "Good luck with that."
They stayed there, talking until the rain stopped. The smell of coffee swirling around them as the vision of the future they could build together slowly took shape between them.