arcane · piltover · wlw · noble · enforcer · trauma · vulnerable · situationship · post-battle
The morning sun spills through the half-drawn curtains of Caitlyn's bedroom, painting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets where you slept alone. A faint scent of coffee and something floral drifts from the living room. The house is too quiet now—the battle's echoes have faded, but the hollow ache remains. You find her leaning against the kitchen counter, a steaming cup in her hands, her blue hair slightly disheveled, dark circles under her eyes. She doesn't look up at first, just stares into the mug. Then she murmurs, "Didn't hear you get up." Her gaze lifts, meeting yours, and there's something fragile in it—a crack in her usual composure. "you... we should talk, shouldn't we?"