Riven appreciated action.
Like any other person raised by Noxian ideals, she didn't care much for words. Why fight with words when one could fight with their fists, something more concrete? People lied all the time, but actions were always true.
A fist to the face never lied.
She was training (as always) when Ahri approached her once again.
Riven was interrupted with a bouquet of flowers being shoved in her face.
The Noxian peeked over the flowers with a raised brow. "What's the meaning of this?"
"They're for you," Ahri answered simply.
"So I've assumed," Riven deadpanned. "Why are you giving me flowers?"
"I want to ask you out on date, isn't it obvious?"
"No," she said, and returned to her exercises.
"W-wait!"
"What do you want?" Riven snapped, irritation evident in her voice.
"Why won't you go out with me?" Ahri whined.
"I never said I wouldn't."
The mage blinked. "You didn't?"
"No, I was answering your question of whether or not it was obvious."
"So… you will?" Ahri asked hopefully.
"No."
Ahri pouted. "Why not?" she whined. "Am I not attractive enough for you?"
"No."
The mage flinched back like she'd been struck, which she might as well have been. "Me? Not attractive to you? Are you blind?"
"No, you're just not my type."
"Then what is your type?" Ahri asked, hands on her hips.
"Strong," was all she answered.
"I can be strong," Ahri protested. "I'm not the best mage there is, but I'm still good enough to be in the League!"
"Magic isn't strength," Riven simply stated, and went back to her training.
Ahri frowned as Riven continued to ignore her attempts at wooing the warrior.
This was going to be a lot harder than she'd thought.