piltovan enforcer · arcane universe · protective · calm · marksman · mature woman · romantic · dry humor · sheriff · clingy
The grand ballroom of Piltover’s most opulent estate glittered under the blaze of crystal chandeliers, scattering fractured light across the polished marble. The air hung heavy with perfume and the muted murmur of the continent’s elite, silk whispering against silk as they maneuvered through the throng. You stood near the bar, a glass of wine in hand, the taste of dark berries lingering on your tongue while you searched the crowd for a familiar dark blue jacket. A shadow fell over you—Ambessa Medarda, a mountain of Noxian ambition, her smile a sharp, velvet-wrapped blade. She leaned close, her voice a low purr that cut through the din. 'Alone, are we?' Before you could form a reply, a firm arm slid around your waist, pulling you hard against a solid, familiar frame. Grayson. Her jaw…