𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐲 -- 𝐂𝐮𝐜𝐨
          𝟎𝟏𝟓: The Prettiest Canvas
          (𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙚, Stay Ready)

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 was a firm believer that everything was a canvas. Random piece of paper? Canvas. Her bedroom wall? Canvas. The underside of Vander's favorite bar stool? Canvas. Albeit not Vander's favorite, judging by the exasperated sigh he gave every time he sat down and found new doodles covering the wood.

Moon had always been a little reckless with her creativity. If it was blank—or even if it wasn't—she considered it fair game. She had no patience for boring surfaces, and she certainly wasn't going to let them stay that way if she had a pen in her hand.

Ekko learned this the hard way.

It started with his notebook. They were sitting on one of the quieter rooftops near the Last Drop, where the rusted metal caught just enough sunlight to keep it warm. Ekko had been flipping through his sketches—designs for gadgets, plans for upgrades to the Firelight base—when Moon plucked the pen from his hand without so much as a warning.

"Hey, I was using that," he protested halfheartedly.

Moon didn't even look at him. "Yeah, well, I need it more."

Her focus was already glued to his notebook, her head tilted slightly as she considered the blank corner of his page. Then, with a few quick strokes, she began drawing.

Ekko watched in silence, his frustration quickly melting into fascination. Her hand moved with practiced ease, her lines smooth and deliberate despite how fast she worked. Within seconds, a tiny cat with oversized ears and a crooked tail appeared in the corner of his sketch.

"There," she said, leaning back and admiring her work. "It was too empty."

Ekko stared at it for a moment, torn between annoyance and the odd fluttering feeling in his chest. "You just drew a cat in my schematics."

Moon raised an eyebrow, her expression completely unbothered. "Yeah, and now it looks better."

He couldn't argue with that. Somehow, her little doodle fit perfectly alongside his meticulous diagrams, like it had always belonged there.

"Fine," he muttered, closing the notebook with a snap. "But don't make it a habit."

Spoiler alert: she absolutely made it a habit.

Soon, she moved on to his arms.

They were sitting on the edge of her secret tree—the one she'd bullied him into building a ladder for—watching the dim glow of Zaun's undercity stretch out beneath them. Ekko had rolled up his sleeves to cool off, exposing the dark skin of his forearms to the breeze. He wasn't paying attention to Moon, too busy rambling about his latest idea for some kind of ... device (Moon genuinely couldn't tell you), when he felt the cold tip of a marker press against his wrist.

"Hold still," Moon said, her voice so casual it barely registered as odd.

Ekko paused mid-sentence, glancing down to see her leaning over, marker in hand, as she began drawing directly onto his skin.

"Uh, what are you doing?" he asked, though he didn't pull away.

"You were boring to look at," she said simply, her tongue peeking out in concentration. "Now you're not."

He laughed despite himself, the sound slipping out before he could stop it. "Wow. Thanks for the compliment."

"You're welcome," she replied, utterly serious.

He didn't have the heart to stop her. How could he, when her doodles were so... her? Little stars and spirals, tiny plants, and an attempt at his hoverboard that ended up looking more like a squashed bug. She worked with the same focus as when she drew in his notebook, as if his arm was just another canvas. And maybe to her, it was.

When she was done, she sat back, admiring her handiwork. "There. Now you're interesting."

Ekko glanced at his arm, taking in the chaotic swirl of lines and shapes. It was messy, sure, but there was something endearing about it. Like she'd left a piece of herself there, in ink and imagination.

"You've got a weird way of flirting," he joked, hoping she wouldn't catch the buckets of nervous sweat practically pouring off him at this point.

Moon snorted. "Please. If I were flirting, you'd know."

Would he, though? Ekko wasn't so sure. All he knew was that he loved the way her eyes lit up when she drew, and he'd gladly let her turn every notebook, every arm, every surface he owned into a canvas if it meant he got to see that look again.

𝐀𝐒 much as Ekko complained about her antics, he found himself looking forward to them. She'd doodle on the back of napkins while they ate at the Last Drop, her sketches spilling over the edges of the paper like her mind couldn't be contained. Sometimes, she'd hand him the napkin when she was done, like it was nothing. Like she hadn't just turned a disposable scrap into something worth keeping.

He never threw them away.

His room was slowly filling with her art—small, unintentional pieces that felt like secrets he got to keep. One night, while cleaning up, he found a sketch she'd left on a piece of scrap metal. It was a drawing of him, hunched over his workbench, goggles pushed up on his head. The details were rough, but he recognized himself instantly. She'd caught his posture, his focus, even the tilt of his head when he was deep in thought.

His chest ached in a way that was both painful and warm. He hid the sketch under his pillow.

The day she discovered the walls of Zain's most popular hidden alleyway was one Ekko would never forget. He'd been busy repairing a generator when he heard her gasp. Turning around, he saw her standing in front of the main wall, her eyes wide as she took in the sprawling, graffiti-covered surface.

"Who did this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ekko straightened, wiping grease off his hands. "Mostly Delia. Some Powder. Everyone likes to pitch in. Everyone but me. Wasn't blessed with an artistic ability."

"It's... amazing," she said, stepping closer. Her fingers traced the edge of a painted flame, careful not to smudge it.

He watched as her eyes darted from one piece to the next, taking it all in like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. It was almost embarrassing, the way her admiration made his stomach flip.

"You should add something," he said before he could stop himself.

She turned to him, her expression unreadable. "Really?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, trying to play it cool. "You're always drawing on everything anyway. Might as well make it official."

For a moment, she just stared at him. Then, a slow smile spread across her face. "Alright. But if it sucks, I'm blaming you."

" I don't think it ever could." Ekko handed her a spray can, his fingers brushing hers for half a second too long. She didn't seem to notice—or maybe she did, and she just didn't care.

Her first strokes were hesitant, almost shy, but as the design took shape, her confidence grew. By the time she stepped back, the wall had a new addition: a constellation of stars surrounding a crescent moon.

"It's not bad," she said, feigning modesty.

Ekko grinned. "It's perfect."

He didn't know how long he could keep this up—watching her, falling for her, and pretending he wasn't. She made it impossible not to notice her. Every time she laughed, every time she called him out on his overthinking, every time she turned his world into her canvas, she carved herself deeper into his heart.

And the scariest part? He didn't want her to stop.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒!

I headcanon that this universe's Ekko is not artistic in the slightest while original timeline Ekko got super into art after Moon's passing which is why he's so good at it.

Not proofread.