˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓

You had expected Piltover University to be grand, dazzling, and full of opportunities to cement your place as a Ferro—one of the most prestigious families in all of Piltover. What you didn't expect was to be stuck sharing a room with her. Caitlyn Kiramman."

From the moment you met her, she was everything you despised. The flawless accent, the impeccable clothes, the way she walked with an air of superiority like she owned the whole damn university. She was perfect, and it made your skin crawl. But you played your part well, flashing polite smiles as the model student everyone adored—the Ferro angel.

Caitlyn wasn’t faring any better. She found you insufferable: your sweet little act, the way everyone fell over themselves to praise you, your perfect hair. It was nauseating.

The rivalry between you was silent but relentless, bubbling under the surface as you both tried to outshine each other in every possible way.

One evening, Caitlyn stood by the desk you begrudgingly shared, holding a pencil that had barely crossed onto her side of the workspace. Her perfectly shaped brow arched in disapproval.

“Is this yours?” She held the pencil up like it was some kind of crime against humanity.

You flashed her the fakest smile imaginable. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it rolled over. My mistake.”

The next morning, you set your plan in motion. During the night, you sectioned off the entire room with glittery pink tape, marking every inch of territory with military precision. Everything Caitlyn owned? Piled neatly (but inconveniently) into her designated corner. Her chair? Taped in place. Her shoes? Taped together. Her bed? On the line.

When she woke up, the scream that erupted from her side of the room was glorious.

You were already out on the balcony, sipping tea like royalty, when Caitlyn burst through thabsolutely livid.

“Are you serious?!”