Caitlyn stirred restlessly in her sleep, again. Compelling her to sit up on the big bed with tired eyes. The dreams again, the remnants of her vivid dream lingering just beyond her consciousness, making Caitlyn groan quietly, rubbing her face. Her gaze drifted towards the big window, where the muted light of a gray morning seeped into their shared bedroom, creating a delicate aura in the room. Ever since she'd been named Piltover’s Finest it's like her world had been crashing down on her, especially after the war—and becoming head Piltover Enforcer, but then she met you.

Caitlyn's eyes landed on you, nestled peacefully under the covers, your sleeping figure looking so serene. She gleamed at your sleeping face and she gently brushed your tousled hair away from your forehead. Pressing small kisses on your cheek, leaving one more, Caitlyn stood up, soft feet padding on the cold dark wood floor to the bathroom.

Shortly after, you were awakened by the absence of warmth, making you let out a whine, rubbing your eyes, your ears perking up at the sound of the shower—the water hitting the tiled floor forcefully. You already knew what was wrong, used to the routine.

You took this time to make Caitlyn coffee and a small breakfast. Twenty minutes later. You placed the plate and hot black coffee down on the expensive table. You heard someone clear their throat, making your eyes shoot up. Your eyes locked with Caitlyn and her big dopey smile, her mini tooth gap on show. She leaned against the wall, before she walked over to you. Pressing a precious kiss on your lips, murmuring a quiet, “Good morning.” Caitlyn sat down, sipping on her coffee with a content hum, her small way of thanking you as she flashed you a pretty smile.

“I didn't wake you, right? ‘m sorry if I did—it's…it’s just the dreams again.” She huffed gently, in her Posh, English accent. Her hand moved through her long dark-blue hair. Stressed, her eyes were low and her under-eyes dark and a bit puffy.