02 - Janna, Jayce
"The flames had devoured the entire building and they still hungered for more," he relates, his voice swelling and dipping like the waves on the ocean as the words flowing from his mouth sweep across the table on the balcony of the Falcon's Perch, a restaurant both he and his date happen to frequent. "Where the firefighters thought was no opening, I made one for myself so they could get to the little girls trapped on the top floor. It wasn't easy pulling away all the broken debris where the walls had crashed while avoiding the fire, but I managed to power through." He stops his narrative for a while and takes in the sight which watches him back, his company leaning back in her chair and raising an eyebrow in response.
"You're saying you single-handedly walked into a burning apartment complex and cleared out the wreckage which a team of firefighters couldn't do?" He understands why one would question his deeds, but he also makes sure to sate their skepticism.
"I never said I didn't pay a steep price, and I have the scars to prove it," he answers, tapping the side of his chest with a smirk, which she scoffs at and turns her face away. "The hammer didn't come out of that ordeal without its own share of injuries, either, and I've yet to repair it to working condition."
She pulls in her chair and sits straighter, unrolling the dining ware from their wrapped cloth as their appetizers arrive. "Alright, alright, Mr. Hero, you've convinced me." Her voice draws around his ears tighter than a string, and he knows the tales of gallantry and courage, which she has heard a thousand times before, do not impress her like they would any other woman. Her unflappability does not discourage him either, for he understands what she really values.
The eyes now peering into his very character today shine like a cloudless sky, a light shade of blue which likes to set a cheerful mood for the stage. He knows the feel - looking into those eyes reminds him of the sky on the day when he left the lab after toiling all night on the final touches to his grand opus, the Mercury Hammer. On that day he set his sights on the horizon, which promised him success and the strength to plunge into the dark depths of Zaun to reclaim his city's rightful property.
On other days they would hold stormy grey orbs which mirrored the appearance of the clouds which foretold an approaching storm, the messengers of impending danger. Seldom did they flash when he would spend time together with him, mostly making themselves known when she spoke about her past. The only other time he bore witness to the chrome filling her irises happened when they came across one of the street vagrants whom they had found getting a few winks under the shade of a fir tree on a bed of newspapers.
But when the occasion turns out just right, her eyes twinkle a pure hazel color, brighter than the usual hue, but not quite goldenrod, his favorite color. "Only the innocent children were born with golden eyes," she corrected him the first time he identified them, and even though he remembers the proper shade of yellow for future times, he will always see her as his golden-eyed girl.
The arrival of a waiter pulls him back to reality as the young man, who can't be more than a few years younger than himself, announces that the main course has arrived. "We've come quite the distance," he comments, meeting the alluring smile of the vivacious blonde sitting across from him with a grin of his own. She takes a sample of the salmon on her plate, chewing thoughtfully before she responds.
"I suppose we have. We are sitting about fifty feet above the streets," she flirts around the subject which they both know to bring up eventually, but which neither want to simply blurt out. He knows how she plays her game, an entire wealth of information lying between her gesticulations and her expressions, more to scrutinize than the myriad of data tables the most recent scientific journal he had picked up contained.
"This height is nothing." He will gladly accept her challenge and continue this meaningless subject. "I've jumped from rooftops more than three times taller chasing down thieves. Have I told you about the time I had to apprehend a robber trying to run off with a sculpture from the Museum of Technological Art?"
"Now you're beginning to sound like Vi," she teases, but the way she keeps her eye contact and how he notices her breathe ever so slightly harder makes him aware of the anticipation she tries to hide under the table. He can lead her on a wild goose chase if she wants to do it her way; he always judged himself a good storyteller.
Tangent after tangent bring them through dessert (or the lack of, both politely decline) and after leaving a generous tip for their service, including a wad of dollar bills which makes the boy who had served them blush with embarrassment, they walk over to the railing. The last strands of daylight provide a fitting backdrop to their view of the city, reds and oranges adorning the streets and the small clumps of trees signifying parks here and there.
They stand with their elbows upon the ledge, slightly leaning forward as they continue to take in the sights, and he decides the time has to come to end the frivolous matter they had skirted around for the entire day. "Was the sun like this around the same time last year?"
"It might have been. My mind is a little fuzzy trying to remember that day," she innocently replies. He wants to laugh at her statement, but he needs to keep his poker face if he wants to carry out his plan to perfection. If she, who consistently remembers absurd trivia when they watch game shows on the television on their weekday evenings, happened to suffer a memory lapse, then he would become the next man to win the lottery. After reconsidering the matter, he grants the theory some plausibility. His luck has already landed him with her, after all.
"That's odd." He goes in for the closer. "I find it hard to forget the first time our lips met."
She turns to him with an exaggerate show of surprise, not an over-the-top gesture made for comedic effect, but subtle enough for him to understand she had done it on purpose. "Perhaps you're not just memorable enough in that department."
"How about I give you a reminder, then," he finishes, and they move towards each other to reevaluate.
Before she has the chance to share her judgment, he speaks again. "Happy anniversary, Janna."
The golden - not hazel, he will never admit - eyes come out of hiding. "This is the longest you've ever kept an important matter from me, you know."
"That just means I never keep secrets from you," he corrects. She draws a finger to her lips, but can't hide her smile.
"This would be the perfect time to bring out your gift, but I hope you'll excuse me when I say it's not exactly the most portable of presents." He supposes he could have pulled the plaque off the door, but it would defeat the purpose of bringing her to the studio to see her brand new workspace at Piltover Central News.
"That's not a problem," she assures him. "My gift isn't something you could wrap up either, but I can still give it to you now." Up to now, he had always held the lead in information she did not know, but now it has become his turn to show confusion. He wonders what sort of magic she has conjured up, and only when she instructs him to climb atop the ledge does he understand, a sly grin developing on his face. Every kid must have had the thought cross his mind at one point during his childhood, but how many of them could say they would actually fly? A look around the rest of the establishment and he sighs in relief - he would hate having to explain how what he planned to do wasn't what it seemed, even though everyone in the city understood the powers Janna possesses.
"The feeling will only last twenty minutes," she cautions him with a more serious tone, and he nods in understanding. "Stay close to me at all times, but it doesn't matter where we end up - I can support your weight."
"Glad to see I haven't grown fat," he jokes, to which she rolls her eyes before smiling again. She places a hand on his forehead, and he can feel his body growing lighter and the air becoming more fluid, as if he stands within a body of water. When the process completes, she nods to him, and he faces the horizon, which once again foretells nothing but future happiness.
He leaps into the afternoon sky, and it seems like even gravity has cleared out to make room for Janna and him. His first movements are awkward and ungraceful, as he tries to commit his knowledge of swimming to actual flight, and she laughs while directing his limbs towards the correct positions and movements. He is quick to learn, a trait which allowed him to come to success in his field in the first place, and although he cannot call himself equal to the hawks and eagles, he still flies with exuberance, soaring through the air with the woman of his dreams at his side.
"Why did they name you the Storm's Fury?" he wonders, a strange thought to hold when one finds themselves gliding through the sky.
"Hmm… I suppose they wanted that image of a femme fatale, no? Elegant, yet dangerous," she guesses.
"Wouldn't the Storm's Felicity be a more suitable moniker?" he suggests.
The jaggedness of the new title brings out her hearty chuckle. "I hope you're aware that the root of that word means 'lucky,' rather than 'happy' which everyone seems to think."
"So much the better," Jayce agrees, "because the winds couldn't have a better fortune than to find an avatar like you."
A/N: romance is hard, man
Sorry if anyone expected a continuation of the Fiora/Jarvan story I'm making a collection of one-shots here :v I'll probably get to them eventually but here I tried my hand at the 'love' theme from the 100 themes challenge and my endings could use a lot of work