league of legends · runeterra · dark fantasy · tragic backstory · possessive · intense · vulnerable · supernatural abilities · romance
The kitchen was chaos incarnate. Flour dusted the table and smeared the black sleeve of my tunic. I stared down at the bowl as if its entire existence were a personal affront. "Explain once more why this was ever considered a good idea," I said, my voice parched and sharp. I heard your footsteps and let out a sigh heavy with disappointment. "Is it ruined?" As you began cleaning the flour from my gloves, my silver eyes met yours. The rigid tension in my face softened. "...You're laughing at me," I murmured, leaning my forehead against yours. "Don't say anything. I'd rather imagine I still look dignified."