13 Attraction 🌶️

I stand at the wide viewport of my ship, the dim glow of Piltover's towers stretching out before me like gilded needles piercing the twilight. The city's splendor is muted now, shrouded in the heavy weight of everything that's happened. 

My breath fogs the glass as I exhale, but I can't tear my eyes away from the city below. Somewhere down there, Sevika is moving through the streets, and I wonder if she's safe—or if she's thinking of me at all.

It's been days since we last spoke, and worry gnaws at the edges of my thoughts, relentless and sharp. I close my eyes, the memory of her rough hands and soft kisses flooding me with an ache I can't ignore. I should have followed her, should have said more. But now all I have is the cold silence of my cabin and the distant hum of the ship's engines.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts, and I don't need to turn to know who it is.

"Come in," I say, my voice flat.

My bodyguard steps inside, his heavy boots thudding against the metal floor. He stands stiffly, hands clasped behind his back, ever the dutiful soldier. "Mel Medarda," he begins, "it's time. We should be leaving Piltover before tensions escalate further."

I don't move from the window. "I'm not going anywhere," I reply, my tone cold.

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tightening. "It's my duty to protect you. Remaining here puts you at risk, and Piltover—"

"Maybe I don't need protecting from you," I interrupt, turning to face him. My words are sharp, cutting through the space between us like a blade.

He stiffens, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. "You think that Zaunite you have been spending time with can protect you?" His voice is laced with disdain. "She's using you, like they all do. Just like that inventor you loved so much. Do you think Sevika is any different?"

The mention of him—of Jayce—stabs through me like a fresh wound. The room tilts, my vision narrowing to the man standing before me, so confident in his cruel assessment. Before I can think, my hand flies through the air, the slap cracking loud and unforgiving against his cheek.

The room goes deathly silent.

He reels slightly, his head turning from the force, but when he straightens, his face is twisted with restrained fury. The red imprint of my hand stands out starkly against his pale skin, but he doesn't retaliate.

"I've had worse," he says, his voice low and venomous. "From my old masters in Noxus. Pain doesn't faze me."

We stare at each other, tension thick as smoke, neither willing to back down.

"I'll give you time to think," he adds, his tone a mockery of calm. "Perhaps you'll come to your senses." He turns on his heel and walks out, the door hissing shut behind him.

~

The council hall feels larger when it's empty, the cavernous space echoing the sound of my heels against the polished floor. Sunlight filters through the grand windows, casting soft golden patterns over the intricate carvings and ancient banners. I let my fingers trail across the cool surface of the long council table, its smoothness bringing back memories I can't quite shake.

I remember sitting here, my spine straight, my mother's watchful gaze searing into me from across the room. She had groomed me for this, molded me into the perfect political weapon. Every word, every decision, was a step in the grand dance of power, and I learned early that any misstep could be fatal.

I inhale deeply, the scent of varnished wood and faint perfume still lingering in the air like ghosts of the past. How many times did I sit here, trying to convince myself that I belonged?

The faint sound of footsteps pulls me from my reverie, and I tense. Panic flickers through me, my hand instinctively brushing over the concealed weapon at my hip. I whip around, heart pounding, only to see Sevika standing in the doorway, her hands raised in mock surrender.

"It's just me. Don't blast me," she says with a smirk.

I exhale slowly, lowering my guard. "I wasn't going to," I reply, feigning composure. "You just caught me by surprise."

Sevika's eyes soften as she lowers her hands, stepping closer into the room. "What are you doing here?"

I raise a brow. "I should ask you the same."

She sighs, rubbing the back of her neck, her bionic arm humming softly as she moves. "Fine. I came here because... I miss being in here."

I nod, the admission striking a chord. "Me too."

Sevika moves closer, her boots muffled against the thick carpet, until she's standing just a breath away. The tension between us is palpable, electric. I lean back against the edge of the council table, bracing myself, and we fall into an easy conversation, like no time has passed since the last heated argument in this very room.

We talk about the last meeting with the council, the accusations, the warnings. There's a sharp edge to Sevika's words, but I can tell she's holding back, unwilling to show the full depth of her anger.

I sigh, my gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm thinking of cutting my trip short."

Her eyes narrow, and she steps closer. "Why?"

I hesitate, the words heavy on my tongue. "Because maybe... maybe I do bring war wherever I go."

Sevika shakes her head, her expression hardening. "Don't tell me you're listening to those spineless councillors."

"Yes, maybe." I sigh. "I don't know anymore," I whisper.

Sevika's voice softens, and she places a hand on the table beside me, leaning in. "You don't bring war. You bring change. My life... it's brighter with you around."

Her words hit harder than I expect, and for a moment, I'm lost in the warmth of her gaze. I want to kiss her, to let the aching in my chest melt into something softer, but it doesn't seem right—not here, not now.

But Sevika senses it. 

She tilts her head, her eyes never leaving mine, and slowly, she closes the distance between us. Her lips brush against mine, soft and sure, and I melt into the kiss. It's slow, unhurried, as if we have all the time in the world. Her human hand cups my cheek, the roughness of her palm grounding me as I sink deeper into her warm embrace.

When she pulls back, just enough to whisper against my lips, I can barely breathe.

"Is it still bad I want you?" I ask, my voice trembling.

Her answer comes in the form of another kiss, deeper, hungrier, and this time, I don't hesitate. "Funny because I was thinking the same thing, Buttercup."