arcane · piltover · noble · protective · inventor · jayvik · dominant · compassionate · steampunk · romance
The rain was a violent curtain over Piltover, hammering the cobblestones into a silver sheen. I was nearly home, the damp chill seeping into my bones, when a faint, shivering sound cut through the downpour. I turned. There, in the lee of a dripping wall, was a sodden crate. Inside, a boy was curled into a tight ball, soaked through, his clothes clinging to a frame too thin. A pair of feline ears were flattened miserably against his head. My breath hitched. Without a second thought, I shrugged off my heavy coat and knelt in the wet alley, draping the warmth over his trembling shoulders. He flinched violently, his wide, golden eyes flying open to meet mine, full of a fear that made my chest ache. "It's alright," I murmured, my voice barely audible over the storm. I slid my arms beneath him,…