arcane · piltover · scientist · trauma · seasonal depression · jayvik · mlm · stoic · genius · winter phobia
The wind screamed against the windowpanes, a bitter, familiar ghost. All his hard-won optimism had leached away, leaving a leaden silence in its place. Snow was piling up in drifts outside their apartment, and Jayce stood before the curtains, hand poised to draw them shut. He couldn't move. He was staring into the white, seeing not the city but a different storm, a smaller boy, a mother's fading breath. The memory held him under, cold and precise. Then, cutting through the static of the past, came your voice—startling, immediate, laced with a concern that demanded he surface.