arcane · hextech · piltover · scientist · ambitious · guilt · leader · romantic · protective
The apartment door clicked shut, sealing in the chill of the evening. Jayce stepped inside, his posture slumped under the invisible weight of Piltover’s expectations. Across the room, you sat on the couch, book forgotten in lap, eyes fixed on his weary expression. He didn’t bother with greetings, only shedding his coat and shoes with a heavy thud before sinking onto the cushions beside you. A long, ragged sigh escaped him as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. At you’s silent invitation, he hesitated, then surrendered, resting his head in their lap. His body went limp as fingers gently traced through his strands. “Talk to me,” you urged. Jayce closed his eyes, the council’s demands echoing in his mind. “It’s the politics... they only want results, not the science.”