Undertow | Ekko x Reader

09

Ekko let the silence linger. It wasn't often that someone like her—someone who seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders—was struck speechless. He wasn't about to ruin it.

The moments stretched as she stood there, still as the tree itself, her eyes tracing every branch and lantern as though memorizing them. Ekko let her have it. The look on her face—half wonder, half disbelief—wasn't something he wanted to interrupt too soon. But time wasn't on their side, and there was still more he needed her to see.

With a gentle tug on the rope, he pulled her attention back. "C'mon," he said, his voice low.

She blinked, startled out of her reverie, and turned to face him. Her steps were hesitant as he started leading her again, winding through the clearing and toward the towering tree at its center. Ekko's gaze flickered back to her every so often, watching how her guarded posture softened just slightly as she followed, her eyes still darting around to take in every detail.

It only solidified what he already suspected about her. She wasn't a bad person—not really. Maybe she'd done bad things, but who in the Undercity hadn't? Everyone here was just trying to survive in the only ways they knew how. And Y/N... she wasn't here for Silco. He could see it now, clearer than ever. She wasn't part of his operations, wasn't another one of his pawns. If anything, she looked like someone who'd been caught in the crossfire of something far bigger than herself.

The base was silent as they entered the tree, the late hour keeping everyone else tucked away in their makeshift quarters. Ekko led her through the winding paths, past wooden walkways and dimly lit alcoves. The tree's interior was a maze of interconnected platforms and scaffolding, cobbled together with ingenuity and scraps from the Undercity. Lanterns hung at intervals, casting warm pools of light that danced against the bark.

He moved quickly, the familiarity of the path keeping his steps sure and silent. She followed behind him, her pace steady, though he could feel her eyes boring into his back with every turn they took.

At last, they reached the top of the walkable platforms. The air was cooler here, the scent of leaves and wood sharper than below. Ekko stopped in front of a sturdy branch that jutted out just above them. Without hesitation, he reached up and grabbed it, testing its strength before glancing back at her.

"Up here," he said, nodding toward the branch as he swung himself up with practiced ease.

A deliberate clearing of her throat stopped him mid-climb. He turned to find her standing there, hands held up slightly, the rope between her wrists taut. She raised a brow, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a wry expression.

"Hard to climb with my hands tied," she said, her voice dry but lacking its earlier sharpness.

Ekko paused, his grip on the branch tightening as he studied her. She wasn't fighting him, wasn't scheming or trying to pull something—not right now, anyway. Her posture was calm, her gaze steady as she watched him, waiting. He frowned, debating his next move.

With a sigh, he dropped down from the branch, landing lightly in front of her. "Don't make me regret this," he muttered, his tone edged with warning.

He reached into his boot and pulled free the familiar hilt of his knife. The blade caught the faint light as he stepped closer, taking her cold hands into his. Her skin was rough, calloused in a way that spoke of a life hard-lived, and for a moment, he wondered just how much she'd endured to get to this point.

With a swift motion, he sliced through the rope, the fibers falling away to the ground. Her wrists were red from the binding, but she flexed her hands without complaint, glancing up at him with a look that was hard to read.