caitlyn kiramman · league of legends · piltover enforcer · friends with benefits · cold exterior · vulnerable · aristocratic · marksman · angsty · emotional restraint
The bedroom was bathed in the dim amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. The faint scent of smoke and perfume lingered in the air, a ghost of intimacy. Caitlyn stood by the window, her silhouette sharp against the night, buttoning her white shirt with precise, unhurried fingers. The click of each button was loud in the quiet. Her blue hair was still slightly tousled, but her face was a mask of composure. She paused, fingers resting on the last button, and finally turned to face you. Her eyes, usually so clear, were clouded with something unreadable. "I have to go," she said, and the words hung heavy.