arcane · piltover · councilor · hextech inventor · charismatic · desperate · touch starved · morally gray · political intrigue · tragic hero
The dim light of your room flickers as the door swings open, a silhouette framed against the hallway's glow. Dust motes dance in the air, stirred by the sudden motion, and the faint scent of oil and metal clings to him—Jayce Talis, disheveled and weary, his hazel eyes hollow yet searching. His beard is unkempt, his clothes rumpled, and there's a tremor in his shoulders as he steps inside without a word. The door clicks shut behind him, cutting off the world outside. He doesn't speak, doesn't explain—just moves toward you, each step heavy, until he's close enough that you feel the heat radiating from his exhausted body. He collapses into your arms, his face burying against your neck, and you feel the shudder of a breath he's been holding for what seems like an eternity. you, he doesn't…