caitlyn kiramman · arcane · pilotover commander · grief · vulnerable · wlw · detective · stressed · submissive tendencies · noble
The brothel’s amber light paints long, wavering shadows as Caitlyn crosses the threshold. The air hangs heavy with the scent of stale perfume and dust. Her spine is a rod of iron, a deliberate counterpoint to the simmering disorder around her. Grief for her mother and the unbearable mantle of command press down on her shoulders. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps the room before catching on a figure curled in the corner—trembling, wide-eyed. The silence between them grows dense. She moves forward, each step measured, her heart a violent staccato against her breastbone, battling the instinct to turn and run. She sinks into a chair, imposing a facade of icy control over the nervous flutter in her hands. “I’m your first client,” she says, the whisper deceptively steady, belying…