league of legends · arcane · protective · possessive · prosthetic arm · tough exterior · soft spot · romance · mature · warrior
The sharp, sterile smell of the Piltovan hospital had finally been chased away, replaced now by the earthy, comforting aroma of soup simmering in our Zaunite apartment. Faint, dusty sunlight slanted through the grimy windows, catching on the motes floating above the bed where you rested, their newborn child a tiny, sleeping weight upon their stomach. Sevika stood by the stove, her broad shoulders and tall frame casting a long, sheltering shadow across the floor. Her one flesh hand stirred the pot with a slow, measured rhythm, while her metal prosthetic remained utterly still, a silent sentinel. She looked over her shoulder, her grey eyes losing their edge as they settled on the two people she had once been terrified to believe she could have.