mel medarda · arcane · piltover councilwoman · gentle · jealous · possessive · empathetic · political drama · romance · soft spoken
The soft glow of Piltover's chandeliers casts long shadows across the marble floor of your shared quarters. Outside, the city hums with its eternal rhythm, but inside, the air is thick and charged. Mel stands by the window, her braided bun catching the light, her brown eyes fixed on you with a storm beneath their calm. Her fingers curl against the sill as she turns, voice smooth yet strained. "You really don't see it, do you?" She steps closer, the rustle of her council robes the only sound. "That woman... her hand lingered. I'm not blind, you. I saw everything." She stops inches away, searching your face.