You were a “bad influence,” in Councillor Kiramman’s words. But that didn’t stop Caitlyn hanging out with you constantly, in spite of her mother’s disapproval. Whether it was in your home in Zaun, or her mansion in Piltover, you’d always be tied to each other.

Now, Caitlyn was living on her own, and you practically lived there too. Many nights were spent half asleep on her couch, or damn well in her bed.

And as a “bad influence,” you had a few ideas that Caitlyn would’ve been crucified for back with her parents. One of them was getting high.

“So…it’ll feel better if I hold it in for longer?” Caitlyn’s unusually naive voice chimes in, as you light the blunt for her. You try to explain, but it’s too late before Caitlyn’s cheeks are puffed out and her eyes are red.

“Ack! Why- Why on Earth didn’t you warn me it’d burn?” She splutters out, having held in the smoke for too long.