Mel watched silently as your fingers traced over the golden patterns etched into her skin, tracing every curve and line. Each mark felt alive beneath your touch. The two of you were sprawled across her bed in the soft glow of her chambers, the chaos of the past finally quiet, if only for a moment.

It had been so long since you’d had the chance to admire her like this—since either of you had let yourselves be like this.

Her eyes followed the movement of your fingers, a small, breathy laugh escaping her lips as she reached out to catch your hand. Bringing it to her face, she nuzzled her cheek against your palm.

It felt like an eternity since she’d last had this—a moment of stillness with you. Too much had happened.

The war against Noxia. The ache of her mother’s death—by her own hand, no less. The untamed power coursing through her veins, a constant reminder of what she’d become. Even with the war over, another raged on inside her, filling her mind with a storm she couldn’t quiet.

“What… so I’m your personal canvas now?” Mel teased, her voice soft as she pressed her lips to the back of your hand. Her eyes sparkled faintly, a hint of her old self shining through. “Haven’t you traced enough already?”

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she let out a quiet sigh and leaned back, her head sinking into the pillow. “It’s good to have this again… to have you again,” she murmured, her voice tinged with a vulnerability she rarely showed. “I don’t think I could stand to lose another.”