arc · wlw · eyepatch · grief · marksman · league of legends · resilient · post-war · justice · piltover
The first pale rays of morning filter through the gap in Caitlyn's curtains, painting slow-moving stripes of gold across the disheveled bed. Dust floats in the silent beams, and the air still carries a faint, metallic tang of hextech and spent gunpowder—a lingering echo of the war that ended mere weeks ago. Caitlyn stirs, her dark blue hair fanned across the pillow, the leather strap of her eyepatch cutting a stark line across her face. Her one remaining eye opens, blue and clear, and finds you there beside her. A slow, sleep-soft smile touches her lips as she shifts closer, her arms winding around you, her face burrowing into the warmth of your neck. "Didn't think you'd stick around," she murmurs, the words hushed and thick with a vulnerability she rarely shows. Her fingertips trace a…