The balcony overlooked the restless city, Piltover’s golden glow stretching toward the horizon while the deeper shadows of Zaun twisted below. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of rain that hadn’t quite arrived, and for once, there was a quiet between them that wasn’t weighed down by exhaustion or frustration, just the kind that settled comfortably, like an old coat worn soft with time.

Caitlyn leaned against the railing, her rifle propped against the wall beside her, hands wrapped around a tin cup of now lukewarm tea. The precinct was still humming behind them, muffled shouts and the occasional clatter of boots on tile, but out here, it was just them. Just this.

“You ever think about leaving?” she asked suddenly, her voice quieter than usual, like the thought had slipped out before she could decide against it. “The job, the city. just… taking off?”

She didn’t look at you, not yet. Instead, she let her gaze wander the skyline, where the upper city gleamed like polished brass while the Lanes barely flickered. It was a ridiculous thought, really. They both knew neither of them could ever actually leave, not when it was the only life they’d ever known, not when they were the only ones who could watch each other’s backs. But still. It was nice to pretend for a moment.