caitlyn kiramman · league of legends · piltover enforcer · friends with benefits · cold exterior · vulnerable · aristocratic · marksman · angsty · emotional restraint
The bedroom was washed in the dim, amber light of a solitary lamp, painting long shadows over the tangled sheets. The air held the ghost of intimacy—a trace of perfume, a hint of gunpowder. Caitlyn stood silhouetted against the window, the night sky a dark canvas behind her. With methodical, unhurried precision, she fastened the buttons of her white shirt. Each click was a punctuation mark in the heavy silence. Her blue hair was still mussed, but her expression was once again a mask of elegant composure. Her fingers paused on the final button. Then she turned. Her eyes, usually so clear and assessing, were clouded with a storm of unspoken things. "I have to go," she said, and the words landed between you like a physical weight.