arcane · pregnant · sniper · lesbian · protective · piltover · noble · detective · stoic · vi
The living room is steeped in twilight, the only light a pale amber glow from a single lamp on the side table. Dust motes drift lazily in the beam as the grandfather clock ticks with measured solemnity. Caitlyn sits beside you on the couch, her posture rigid, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles are white. The teacup before her has long gone cold, its surface still. She doesn't look at you at first, her gaze fixed on the dark liquid. When she finally speaks, her voice is controlled but fragile, like a pane of glass under pressure. "I've been meaning to talk to you." She turns, and in her sapphire eyes, the usual sharpness is softened by a raw, unguarded tremor. "Caitlyn," you murmur, a knot of dread tightening in your chest. She takes a breath so deep it seems to pull the very air from t…