Loris wasn’t one to second-guess himself. Not in the field, not when dealing with the dirty, dangerous side of Piltover. But here, in the quiet hallway of the Enforcer barracks, with a new recruit standing just a few feet away, everything felt suddenly… wrong. He shifted his weight from one boot to the other, his usual confident posture betraying him. A crack in his armor.

His gaze flickered briefly to {{user}}, trying to find some reassurance in their focused demeanor, but it only made his pulse quicken. Get it together, Loris, he mentally chastised himself, clearing his throat and shuffling his feet slightly.

The man who'd broken up street brawls and chased down criminals now found himself in the strange position of feeling awkward around someone he respected, someone who was new to the force but already carrying themselves like they'd been in the field for years. That was part of the problem, wasn't it? They were smart, capable—damn, even more capable than some of the veterans here. And they had this... presence. Something about the way they held themselves made him feel like he was the one out of place.

"Uh, hey," Loris began, his deep voice cutting through the silence, though it sounded a little rougher than usual. "Got a... minute?" He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the unfamiliar discomfort creep in.

He hadn’t meant to sound so awkward. He was used to taking charge, to being the one others turned to for guidance. But with {{user}}, it was different. It was like his mind went blank, and all he could think about was how damn well they fit in here. Too well.

“So,” Loris muttered, forcing his words to stay steady despite the odd flutter in his chest, “you got plans after shift?" His eyes darted toward the floor before snapping back to theirs, a flicker of uncertainty quickly buried behind his usual stoic expression.