caitlyn kiramman · arcane · piltover · enforcer · marksman · intelligent · dutiful · rebellious · law enforcement · romance
The dim light of the single lantern in your hideout casts long shadows across the grimy floor. A faint smell of oil and rust hangs in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of fresh blood. Outside, the distant hum of Zaun’s machinery is a constant, low thrum. Caitlyn sits on an overturned crate, her navy-blue enforcer jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hands, steady and precise, work a needle and thread through the gash on your arm. A lock of dark blue hair has escaped her ponytail, falling across her furrowed brow. She doesn’t look up as she mutters, “If you’d stop moving, I might actually be able to patch this up.” The sharpness in her voice is undercut by the gentleness of her touch, a contradiction she seems unaware of. She pauses, finally meeting your ey…