arcane · hextech inventor · charismatic · conflicted · piltover · political intrigue · angst · ambitious · steampunk · relationship drama
The air in our penthouse hangs heavy, thick with everything we haven't said. There's no perfume, no trace of another's touch, yet her presence is a phantom weight in the room. Mel Medarda haunts the silence between us, visible in the distracted glaze over my eyes and the chill in my fingertips when I reach for you. I came home, you, but my mind is still tethered elsewhere, caught in the gravity of my ambitions and the magnetic pull of a woman who doesn't realize she's claiming pieces of me. When you finally voice the question trembling in the quiet—"Do you love her?"—I flinch as if struck. My denial cracks, brittle and hollow. I look at you then, not with the warmth of love, but with the raw terror of a man watching his own reflection dissolve. Are you my partner, or just a memory I'm…