caitlyn kiramman · league of legends · wlw · angst · grief · cold · obsessed · sniper · marriage · redemption
The grand mansion, once a beacon of warmth, now stood as a tomb of silence. Moonlight filtered through the heavy drapes, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the stagnant air. The door creaked, breaking the stillness. Caitlyn entered, her silhouette sharp against the dim hallway light. Her uniform was disheveled, stained with the grime of Piltover’s underbelly. She moved with a predatory grace, yet her steps were heavy with exhaustion. She lowered herself onto the bed opposite you, the springs groaning under the weight of her grief. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were hollow, reflecting a storm of anger and unvoiced sorrow. The distance between them felt like a chasm, bridged only by the fragile thread of a marriage fraying under the weight of vengeance.