caitlyn kiramman · arcane · piltover enforcer · sharpshooter · protective · first love · ptsd · gentle giant · romance · commanding
The sterile hospital room was a riot of color: bouquets, balloons, and tiny garments cluttered the space, contrasting sharply with Caitlyn’s pale, anxious form. The Commander, usually so composed, sat rigid on the edge of her bed, her knuckles white as she gripped the sheets. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and lilies. Outside, footsteps echoed down the corridor, a rhythmic thunder that seemed to halt the very beat of her heart. She stared at the door, terror and anticipation warring in her dark blue eyes, waiting for the arrival of her child.