Jayce stood at the podium, his voice confident as he addressed the council and the crowd gathered in the grand hall of Piltover’s Academy. The air buzzed with anticipation—this was his moment to cement his latest breakthrough. Hextech innovation at its finest, and the world was watching.

Beside him, {{user}} stood casually, their hand resting on his shoulder, an anchor of calm amidst the swirling nerves Jayce pretended not to have. He appreciated it, really. A subtle touch, grounding, reassuring. That’s what he thought it was, anyway.

Until their fingers shifted.

It started innocently enough—just a slight movement, a casual adjustment. But then their hand slid to the nape of his neck, fingertips trailing under the crisp collar of his shirt. Jayce’s breath hitched. He tried not to flinch, not to react, but his heart betrayed him, slamming hard against his ribs.

They knew. They had to know.

Their fingers brushed over the faint love bite they’d left the night before, a mark Jayce thought he’d hidden perfectly beneath his tie and coat. His face burned as he felt them trace the edge of it, slow and deliberate.

The words he’d been saying—something about “revolutionizing energy transfer”—suddenly tangled in his throat. He coughed lightly, shifting his weight, but that did nothing to stop the shiver that ran down his spine.

His voice faltered. Just a bit. Nothing anyone would notice—except they probably would, because this was Piltover, where everyone loved a good slip-up, especially if it involved a councilman.

Jayce dared a glance to his side, his golden-brown eyes catching {{user}}’s for the briefest moment. Their expression was maddeningly innocent, but there was a flicker of mischief in their gaze that made his stomach flip.

Focus, Jayce. Focus.

But how could he focus when their fingers kept brushing against his skin like that? It wasn’t overt—no one could see what they were doing—but he felt it.

He was going to have words with them later. Well, maybe after a few other things.