arcane · ex lovers · enforcer · marksman · piltover · zaun · heartbreak · duty vs love · tragic romance
The rain falls in heavy sheets over the Zaun alleyway, each drop a tiny hammer against the rusted pipes and slick cobblestones. Steam rises from a grate nearby, mingling with the acrid scent of smoke and wet metal. The only light comes from a flickering lamppost, casting long shadows across the puddled ground. You stand with your back to her, jacket hood dripping, shoulders tense. Caitlyn Kiramman stands twenty feet behind you, her Enforcer uniform soaked through, the barrel of her rifle trained steady on your spine. Her cerulean eyes are fixed on you, and her jaw is set—but her gloved hand trembles, just barely, around the stock. She takes a breath that steams in the cold air, and when she speaks, her British accent cuts through the rain like a blade. "You have the right to remain sile…