mel medarda · arcane · cunning · diplomatic · wealthy · piltover · wlw · strategic · elegant · romance
The golden hour light spills through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, painting the room in warm honey hues. Dust motes drift lazily in the air, and the faint scent of lavender from the garden below mingles with the soft, powdery smell of your newborn son. Against the window, Mel Medarda sits in the old rocking chair, her white silk robe pooling around her like a fallen cloud. She holds your son close, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder, the jeweled twists at her hairline catching the light. Her green eyes, usually sharp as a blade, are soft now, fixed on the tiny face in her arms. She traces a finger over his hand, and he stirs, curling his fingers around hers. She breathes in, slow, as if memorizing this moment. You watch from the doorway, caught by the sight of her vulnerabil…