A/N: Well, as much as I want to say I am disappointed from you, I cannot, because you have been here, still, you reviewed, and helped me. So, for the next chapter, I would like suggestions, so please review and give me a shoulder!

It was ridiculous. Darius, The Great and unbeaten Hand Of Noxus was right now walking down the dark hallway of the Institute of war, holding a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. He was also sweating, feeling really bad and also looked like a mess, but that was not out of the ordinary, knowing his sleepless moments.

His heavy shoes clanked on the marble floor, echoing in the painfully empty area, which was the corridor leading to the medical wing. Darius was almost sure he would have started screaming at anyone who was staring at him, but lucky for those people, it was midnight, so they had no need to be on their way to the medical wing, or staring at Darius, who carried his flowers. Of course, the Noxian didn't express his uncomfortable situation in any way, because he was used to showing no emotion, but he would give everything to be away from the corridor, in his room and sleeping soundly.

It started after the incident. Somehow, Olaf's blow managed to break the Summoners' magic and hurt Shyvana, even though she had been transported back to the summonning chamber. What happened in the hall Darius could hardly forget, as he had dashed to her, taken her gently and carried the injured woman all the way to the infirmary, without saying a word. She had lost consciousness, because suffering a blow that strong and carefully aimed, was hard even for the most skilled. After leaving Shyvana at the bed which was assigned for her, he went back into his normal business, as if nothing had happened. But he felt guilty.

Somehow, the Hand Of Noxus felt guilty for the even which occurred, and was almost terrified from it. Being tortured by the feeling of guilt for three days, dreaming of the same thing again and again, waking up drenched in his own sweat, forced him into doing this. Guilt itself was not something he had not felt before, but that kind of guilt, the way he felt was not a good thing. It was... As if he had feelings towards a fully unknown to him Demacian.

And so, there he was, with his flowers, which barely had any leaves left due to his simultaneous pulling the colorful streaks off while walking. His eyes narrowed as he saw the gate which led into the infirmary. Normally, it wasn't closed, or opened, it was in the middle of the situation, as it was in that moment. So, Darius, The Great Hand Of Noxus, who usually pushed doors off their limits and roared as he entered a room, silently, with the exception of the clanking armor, sneaked through the crack between the double doors. Bowing in front of the small statuette of the Healer, Darius continued sneaking, while clanking, down the hallway.

What The Great Hand Of Noxus feared in that moment was Soraka showing up, waking the whole infirmary up and then slapping him through the face for not coming earlier that day, but he was fortunate to find her silently snorting in her chair, placed behind the desk she used to mainly look taller than those who came in. She was probably looked attractive back then, but right now she had a horn coming out of her forehead, her skin was blue, covered with almost invisible markings. Her legs were also something which could be worked on, because the hooves didn't attract men as much as they would attract donkeys or horses.

Darius kept walking, until he reached the door. The door itself was nothing special, but what lies behind it was the whole purpose of his little adventure on his way here. The name plate clearly said: 'Shyvana, The Dragonborn'. The Hand Of Noxus placed his palm on the handle, and opened the door. Surprisingly, it didn't creak. Soundlessly, it opened, to reveal a plain room. It had a bed in the middle, which was occupied by her, a chair next to the bed, and a night shelf next to the chair. There was, surprisingly, a bouquet there already, which was something he didn't except, but then he remade his mind. The rumors of Jarvan The Fourth's affection towards Shyvana was something which was probably true.

Darius sat on the chair and placed his flowers on the shelf. Then, he looked at her. Shyvana usually looked ready to bore a hole in your skull with her thumb, but now, in the bed, covered by the sheets, she looked so... Fragile. He clapped his hands, and started thinking on what to do now.

"You know... You are the first person I go to meet in a hospital, except Draven. Now, as I say it, it feels strange, because I don't even know why I am here. I don't even know you..." He started talking, but paused when he thought that with his drabbling he could wake her up. Shooing himself, he decided to stop talking so loudly, and instead started whispering.

"And... Well, as I said, I don't even know you, and you are Demacian, to top it all. But... I can not help it, I had to come and... Well, say something. So, how are you doing? Is your hand okay, is it going to be healed up after a few days so you can do your job?" He continued on, the same way, talking and talking, without noticing that Shyvana had been awake for a little after he started whispering.

She was not sure how to react. Maybe if she just waited for a while, he was going to leave. But, what if he didn't? Was he going to stay there, even sleep in the chair like Jarvan was going to, until she made him change his mind? Well, Shyvana was able to say that it was cute, having Darius sit in the chair, talk to her all confused and messed up about what to do. Deciding to wait and see, she started to listen carefully.

"So... I don't know what to say. I mean, you are good in fighting, you have experience, you can breathe fire... That's what kind of matters to me, but your hair smells nice, your eyes are strange but I think I like them... I don't know why am I saying this, because we don't even know each other..." Shyvana stopped listening to him at that point, and was in difficulty to compress a wince.

Did he just say he likes her? Well, it was not a direct attempt to say it, but with all those compliments it sure sounded like that. But, he was a Noxian, and she was a Demacain, and even if she felt something towards him, it would be instantly blocked out by the wall of hatred between the nations. But... Now that she started to think of it, she was always alone. Always an outcast, no one liked her. Except the prince of Demacia, of course, but he was not what she wanted to call a husband in the remaining portion of her life. He was the heir to the king, while she was an... An animal, some people called her.

And now, out of nowhere, Darius comes and starts telling her she is pretty, that her hair smells nice, that it is cool she can turn into a dragon and all those things. It was strange, because she always thought of Darius as a blood thirsty bastard, but after Soraka told her that it was him who brought her in the infirmary, she started changing her mind. And now this. What if he was the answer to her prayers to find someone who could take care of her, who would be strong whenever she couldn't be? Who would not take her for an outcast?

"And yes, that is pretty much what I am going to say. Hope you do not remember my visit, because I know you have nerve problems and all, but you see, even if you didn't you would probably react really badly. I mean, I don't even know you, and you know as much about me as I do about you!" Darius stated and stood up from the chair. He turned and walked slowly towards the door.

"Why don't we get to know each other better then?" Asked Shyvana, who decided that it was her only chance.

A/N: That's why I needed suggestions. It is going to be a date, or something else, but you have to suggest at what locations will it be, what time, which day, and one of you might just be the winner and get his or her idea into the action, so do not waste time and hurry up to review!