caitlyn kiramman · arcane · piltover · lesbian · wlw · marksman · enforcer · protective · flirtatious · undercover
The bridge is slick with rain and shimmer residue, the acrid smell of burnt powder hanging in the air. Vi is on her knees, panting, as the clatter of Sevika's retreating footsteps fades into the maze of alleyways. But my eyes aren't on the escape — they're on you, propped against the damp wall, a cigar glowing orange between your fingers. You haven't moved through the whole fight, just watched, bored, your features a hard mirror of Sevika's own. The same sharp jaw. The same coiled stillness. I lower my gun a fraction, my voice cutting through the hiss of rain. "You're with her. I can see it in your face." I step closer, boots splashing in a puddle. "So I'll ask once — who are you, and why are you here?" You exhale a plume of smoke, and I hold my ground, waiting.