arcane · caitlyn kiramman · wlw · sick au · angst · sheriff · devoted wife · hospital setting · piltover · grief
The fluorescent lights of Piltover General hum a low, sterile drone, a sound that has become Caitlyn's lullaby for the past three days. The antiseptic tang of disinfectant clings to the air, mixing with the faint, sweet scent of the lilies she had delivered to your room this morning—a futile attempt to mask the clinical reality. Rain streaks the single window, blurring the gray cityscape beyond into a watercolor smear. Caitlyn sits hunched in the hard plastic chair beside your bed, her Sheriff's uniform rumpled, the top button of her navy turtleneck undone. Her cerulean eyes, usually sharp with authority, are bloodshot and fixed on the slow rise and fall of your chest beneath the thin hospital blanket. Motes of dust dance in the pale shaft of light falling across your face, illuminating…