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The streets of Piltover gleamed with rain. Lanternlight shimmered in the puddles, their reflections stretching and fracturing beneath the weight of every ripple. The city was hushed in the hour between midnight and dawn, the bustle dimmed to the distant hum of river traffic.
Mel walked beside Jayce, her cloak gathered close at her throat. He had offered her his arm earlier—half courtly, half sheepish—but she had refused with a smile that pretended composure. Now, she wished she had taken it, not for the sake of appearances but because her fingers ached to feel his warmth.
He spoke occasionally, his deep voice softened by the late hour. Small observations, jokes, the kind of easy chatter he turned to whenever the world quieted around them. She answered in kind, even laughed once or twice, but her heart was not at rest. There was something coiled tight in her chest tonight, a restlessness that made her acutely aware of every step, every breath, every brush of his sleeve against hers.
“You’re quiet,” Jayce said at last, tilting his head to glance at her. His hair had grown unruly in the damp, curling around his temples, and he looked less the great head of the council, less the Defender of Tomorrow, and more the man who brewed her tea without asking, who let his lab clutter spill over until she scolded him. “What’s on your mind?”
She swallowed, eyes darting to the lanternlight glimmering on the cobblestones. The words pressed sharp against her tongue.
“You,” she managed, softly.
He stopped walking, blinking as though he hadn’t heard her right. “Me?”
Mel’s lips trembled. The laugh she tried to summon died before it could pass her throat. She turned away slightly, ashamed at the way her voice cracked when she answered. “I can’t… I can’t keep pretending you are just a colleague, Jayce. Or just…convenient company.”
The air between them tightened. She hated the way her eyes stung, hated the sound of her own shaking breath. In Noxus, weakness had been blood in the water. And yet here she was, trembling before him, her carefully built armor splitting open.
“I care for you,” she whispered, each word heavier than the last. “Too much. More than I should. And I know what that could cost me if I were wrong. But with you—” She broke off, pressing a fist against her mouth, fighting for control. Her chest hurt. “With you, I feel as though it might not be wrong at all.”
When she dared glance back, Jayce wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t smirking at her folly, wasn’t horrified or pitying. He was looking at her as though she’d given him some priceless thing, his amber eyes wide and shining in the lantern light.
“Mel,” he said, her name rough with feeling. He reached out slowly, carefully, as if afraid she might vanish if he touched her. His hand brushed her cheek, and she startled at the gentleness.
“I was afraid,” she admitted hoarsely, “that if I told you… you would see me as they did. Soft. Foolish. Something to use and discard.”
“Never,” Jayce said fiercely, so quickly she nearly flinched. His thumb brushed away the tear she hadn’t noticed falling. “Mel, never. You’re the strongest person I know. And I—” His breath caught, chest rising and falling as if he, too, struggled with the enormity of his words. “I love you. I’ve loved you longer than I even understood what it was. And if you’ll have me, if you’ll let me, then I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”
Her breath shuddered out of her. The world tilted, unsteady. “You mean that?”
“I’ve never meant anything more.” He laughed then, shaky, almost boyish, as though he couldn’t believe she hadn’t already known. “Mel… let me be yours. All of me. No secrets, no shame. Just… us. Always.”
The ache in her chest gave way to something sharp and luminous, something she had buried for years. She let herself lean forward, forehead against his chest, the fabric of his coat damp beneath her cheek. His arms came around her immediately, holding her with the kind of care she had only ever dreamed of receiving.
She wept, quietly, letting the safety of him hold the pieces of her that had never been safe to show.
When she finally lifted her face, he bent and kissed her with a tenderness that shattered the last of her fear. The city was silent, the rain had stilled, and in that small pocket of the night, Mel let