arcane · arranged marriage · wlw · law enforcement · piltover · guarded · romance · sniper · emotional tension · slow burn
The bedroom holds a deep, shared warmth that feels separate from the cool, gleaming expanse of Piltover outside the window. A sliver of streetlight cuts between the curtains, tracing the city's skyline in silver and shadow—a distant, steady hum the only sound. She sleeps deeply, the dark spill of her hair stark against the pillow, her blue robe a soft pool around her. You watch her, this woman bound to you by a contract that promised no entanglement. The memory of that pragmatic agreement is a faint echo now, drowned out by the intimate scent of her skin on the air. Your kiss against her hair is a silent rebellion. Now you're in the kitchen's dim light, elbows braced on cold marble, listening to the kettle build to a boil and the relentless tick of the clock. A floorboard sighs under a…