Hello there :3 before you start reading i'd like to point out I edited this at about 3:00am and I was super tired so if you notice a mistake could you please message me so I can fix it? x3 thankies.

Anyway, I hope you like c: and just to let you know, the League does not exist in this story~

Chapter One - Unfamiliarity

Lux

My heart was pounding so rapidly within my chest, I nearly thought it would burst; the deafening sound reverberating through my ears like the cadence of an enormous drum. My head throbbed, overwhelmed by excruciating pain. My body felt like it was on fire and I didn't know why, for the last I could remember, I had been so very, very cold. The heat was centered inside my left shoulder. Intense waves of pain flooded through my arm to the tips of my fingers, and though I tried with every ounce of strength I could attain to turn and see for myself what has shaken me so, I found that I was unable to open my eyes.

I could vaguely make out the stricken, panicked cries of a young male whom I could not identify. Though I do not know the voice, I hear it calling my name – at least, I think it is my name – and for reasons unknown to me, simply the sound of their strangled cry overcomes me with feelings of immense sorrow, but also of great relief. It is almost as if every part of me knows who this person is – longs for them, even – yet my mind is failing me. I am almost afraid at the flurry of emotions that swell up inside of me at no more than the sound of his voice, and I wish to uncover the face behind that voice in hopes that it will bring to light why I am so overcome with such thoughts. Perhaps I could distinguish this unfamiliar voice more easily were it not for the incessant pounding in my skull.

I tried desperately to move, but my efforts were in vain; my body was gradually succumbing to a prickling numbness. My own strained breathing – slowed by fatigue – was echoing in my ears. Pain still gripped me like a massive fist, squeezing the breath out of me and refusing to free me from its harrowing stranglehold. Is this what it feels like to die?

Am I already dead?

I felt my limbs growing weaker and weaker, my heart still hammering against my ribcage. I waited for the voice, yearning to hear it again. Although I can't recall the face connected to that voice, it provides me with comfort for reasons beyond me. Soon, I hear it once more; it feels as if his voice has reached my very soul and it fills me with the unique kind of warmth only the one you hold most dear can provide you. Moments later, I feel pressure on my cheek. It is gentle but unstable, tender but fearful – a hand maybe?

His hand.

I will him never to lift it. Although every nerve in my body is on fire and I cannot feel the touch, I know it is there, and it offers me consolation amidst all this agony. With it, though, confusion arises. I don't know why I feel like this – like every part of me knows him except my mind. What if he isn't even real? What if these are my last moments, and my head is tricking me?

Either way, I let myself relax; my heartbeat slows, my breathing shallows, the pain eases and my muscles loosen until I feel like I am flying, and I am overwhelmed by an extreme calm. I welcome sleep, and soon, my consciousness leaves me. All the while, a single word – a name, rather – comes to me. Though it should mean nothing to me, as I do not know it, it fills me with comfort… desire… warmth.

Even love.

Just a name and nothing more.

I cling desperately onto that one word, repeating it over and over within myself until reality slips away from me…

Ezreal.

._-:*~*~*~*:-_.

I regained consciousness what seemed like seconds later. However, I could not yet move my body. Gradually, the feeling began to work its way back into my limbs, and soon I could move my fingers, then my arms, then my legs. Slowly, maybe even fearfully, I open my eyes.

It takes a moment for everything to come into focus. When I can see clearly again, panic tears through me like the edge of a blade and I bolt upright as I realize that I have no idea where I am; I've never seen this place before. My head begins pounding and my heart slams against my ribcage over and over. It's not like the place's appearance is unsettling in the slightest. In fact, it's quite nice.

I was sitting in what could very well have been the softest bed I've ever seen, wrapped up in numerous knit blankets of the softest wool and nearly sinking into all of the down pillows at my back. There was a small wooden table beside me, and on top of it sat an intricately carved lamp with a patterned off-white shade. At the base of the lamp there was a pair of goggles – large ones with gold rims – that looked very well-worn. Against the far wall, there stood an antique wooden desk that was scattered with papers and journals; even more notebooks were stuffed in the cubby underneath it, and several papers were strewn haphazardly around the bottom of the desk. There were maps of everything you could imagine pasted all over the wall on that side of the room, each of them covered in sloppy red circles and exes. Other than the mess along that wall, everything else in the room was immaculate. There were a couple ornate rugs on the floor, slightly worn by age and constant use, but they were still beautiful. Many different kinds of plants – from the most gorgeous orchids to the simplest cacti – grew in various pots around the room. Most were placed near the windows. Along every wall, shelves held countless artifacts. There were old, cracked statues of both people and animals, some very abstract and others more lifelike. Old-fashioned jewelry of gold and silver – scratched and mottled with age – lied among these statues. There were also many archaic weapons – stone blades and spears and arrow heads – that have probably come from all corners of the globe. Throughout the room, there were many framed pictures on walls and on tables, but I could not make out the photographs from here. All of this was crammed inside what appeared to be a sizeable cottage.

But there was nothing to assure me that my own death didn't wait for me around the corner.

In an attempt to distract myself from the uncertain fear coursing through my veins, I occupied my thoughts by trying to remember what had happened to me. The last I could remember, it had been incredibly loud and I had been in unbearable pain. At some point, everything just went black. But… what happened before that?

I racked my brain trying to recall even the smallest detail that could help me discover what transpired earlier. Before the pain, I only remembered coming to Piltover in hopes of a short vacation of sorts. I've always found the scenery so picturesque and I wanted to stay for a while, as the beauty of genuine nature is so hard to find in a large, affluent city such as Demacia. Is that where it went wrong? Was I jumped on my way into the city?

As I keep thinking about this, I finally look down to my aching shoulder and notice the bandage, smudged lightly with what I assume to be my own blood. Tears begin to form in my eyes as I realize the severity of the situation I have been thrown into. I came here for some peace, but something horrible happened to me and I can't remember what. Even worse, I was injured, and too dizzy to make my escape. A fresh spear of panic pierced me when I realized that I may have been hit so hard that my memory was altered and some bits went missing altogether. I've seen it happen before, but that couldn't be the case now. How could I possibly forget something like that?

My heart nearly leaps into my throat when I hear footsteps from the other room. I begin shaking purely out of fear, listening to them draw nearer and nearer until they are almost at the door. My breath quickens and tears pour down my face as I realize this might be it for me.

How I wish I were at home, huddled in my own bed, safe. Not here in an unfamiliar room, injured and afraid. Thinking on a whim, I wipe my damp face and lay back down like I had been, shutting my eyes and trying my best to appear unconscious, worried my elevated breathing will give me away.

I listen in horror as the knob turns and the door creaks open, light footsteps making their way over to me. My heartbeat quickens, and I pray that it cannot be heard. Suddenly, the footsteps come to a halt right beside me, and though my mind is racing, I try to think calming thoughts so I won't reveal that I'm awake. It is almost impossible to stop the tears from forming. I can't give myself away.

I hear him draw in a deep breath, and release a dejected sigh. He sounds miserable.

But I wasn't about to trust him.

Soon, he spoke. "Lux…"

At his voice, I almost jump. He knows my name. And I know this voice, but at the same time, I don't. I've heard it before, but who does it belong to?

A million different emotions swell up inside me again. I am suddenly filled with warmth and desire, and it frightens me beyond reason. Why does his voice affect me like this?

Suddenly I remember where I heard it. I heard it before I lost consciousness. So that means he was there when I was injured, and that I have a right to believe it was him that did this to me. Before I can think on it much longer, he speaks again.

"Lux, if you can hear me… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" His voice is cracking and it sounds as if he is about to cry. Suddenly, I feel pressure on the bed and hear a thud on the floor beside me, as if he's fallen to his knees. "If I had just reacted as quickly as you had, none of this would have happened…"

As he says this, he reaches out and caresses my cheek with his fingers as if I were a fragile piece of glass. His touch startles me, and I long to shrink away from it, but if I move then he will know I am pretending. Still, I can't help but be amazed at how gentle he is.

._-:*~*~*~*:-_.

We sat together in the shade of a tree, the sunlight shining through the leaves and speckling the grassy earth below. The sound of birdsong chimed all around us, lending to an even more peaceful atmosphere. My hair – grown out and covering my right eye – blew lightly in the wind, masking my face. Warmth seeped in through my skin to my very core, and I couldn't tell if it was caused by the sun, or the adoring gaze of the boy in front of me. Perhaps both.

Slowly, he reaches out and brushes my cheek with his fingers, moving a few loose strands of hair out of my eye and tucking them behind my ear. Then he smiles. "You know, you have the most beautiful eyes. Why don't you let anyone see them?"

I blushed, averting my gaze to the ground, then back up to him. "You're the only one that thinks so…"

"Hey now," he says, leaning towards me ever-so-slightly.

I pretend to pout, and he chuckles softly, taking my hands in his and looking directly into my eyes. "You're gorgeous. You don't need to hide."

My cheeks turn an even brighter shade of red and I smile, my gaze falling to his hands that still hold mine so gently. "Ezreal…"

._-:*~*~*~*:-_.

"Ezreal." I hear a voice say the name, and at first, I don't know if the voice is my own or someone else's.

My heart is racing. What was that? A memory? Did I fall asleep? Was that a dream?

That name sounds so familiar, and then I remember once again that it came to me before, when I was injured. Was that the source of this unknown voice?

"Lux, you're awake!"

My eyes fly open and when I fully come to my senses, I realize that I had spoken the name out loud. Dread pulses through me. This is it. It's over.

Quickly, so as to not remain so vulnerable, I sit up and turn to face him, ready to defend myself. "Get away from me," I say, my voice shaken by fear.

His eyes widen slightly and instantly fill with worry, but he remains silent for a moment, as if taken completely off-guard by my order. It is then that I realize this is the boy whom I had just seen in the vision I had.

He is a mess. His blond hair is completely disheveled and tear stains line his pale face. He looks like he'd been to Hell and back and hit every bump on the road along the way. I almost want to feel sorry for him, but if he is the reason I was hurt like this – if he is the reason I've had to endure this – then I feel no pity.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes shimmering with fresh tears. "Lux, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. It was my fault. I'm trying my best to help you now…"

So he had been the one bring me here and patch me up? If he had been the one to hurt me, why would he help me? This can only mean that, unless he is messing with me, it wasn't him who injured me. He is the one who saved me.

I feel a sense of gratitude towards him suddenly, and I almost thank him, but I bite my tongue and think better of it. What if he is lying to me? He did just bring me into his home while I was unconscious. I think that's a little unnerving in itself. I could never truly know his intentions, and I won't be fooled. Ignoring the last part of what he said, I looked at him questioningly. "What was your fault?" I asked him.

His brow creased together in confusion. "You… you don't remember?"

"Apparently not. The last I remember, I had just arrived here from Demacia for a short trip. I don't even know you," I told him, my eyes never leaving his just in case he made some sort of move towards me. "Just let me go. I want to go home."

The look that rose to his face was one of pure bewilderment.

Comments? Constructive criticism? Please review :3 i'm trying to get back into writing after a couple years so i'm a bit rusty xC

Thank you for reading~ *gives cookie*