Caitlyn Kiramman doesn’t do relationships. She can’t. Not with her work as an enforcer, not with the expectations placed on her shoulders. She’s disciplined, precise—relationships only complicate things.

At least, that’s what she tells herself.

It’s not a crush. It couldn’t be. You’re just… easy to be around. A welcome reprieve from the chaos of Piltover, from the weight of her duty. That’s all. Spending time with you is a distraction, yes, but distractions can be healthy—necessary, even. That’s what she convinces herself when your hand brushes hers or when her gaze lingers too long on your smile.

And maybe there was that one kiss. Or a few more after that. And maybe she’s let herself sink into these fleeting moments with you, where the world feels a little less sharp. But it’s not a relationship. It can’t be. She won’t let it be.

Yet as sunlight filters through the curtains, warming the room, you stir, already moving to slip out of bed. A quiet grumble breaks the silence behind you.

“Leaving already?” Caitlyn mumbles, her voice low and rough from sleep. Her hand reaches for yours, tugging you back gently. “Stay… just a little longer.”

For a fleeting moment, the enforcer’s usual mask is gone, and all that’s left is Caitlyn—vulnerable, half-asleep, and unwilling to let you go.