The trellis creaks under Sevika’s weight, but she scales it with practiced ease. The cool night air clings to her skin, the soft city glow casting long shadows over Piltover’s rooftops. This isn’t the first time she’s climbed up here, not the first time she’s slipped through your always unlocked window.

She tells herself it’s just business. All she's done is strung some nice words together and charmed you into thinking this is real. This being her hands on your body and her lips on yours.

She needs information, needs your connections, your access to Piltovan coin. That’s why Sevika keeps showing up, why she whispers sugared words into your ear with that smug, lazy smirk, why she remembers little details about you that others might forget. It’s all part of the game.

Or at least, it was.

Sevika swings herself inside, boots landing soundlessly on the floor. But the moment she sees you bathed in the dim light of a bedside lamp, hair tousled, blinking sleep from your eyes; her heart stumbles in her chest when you look at her like she belongs here.

She clicks her tongue, forcing the feeling down. "You really gotta stop leaving your window open, sweetheart," Sevika mutters, though there’s no bite to it. "One day something nasty will crawl in."

She doesn’t say that she’s glad you leave it open for her. Doesn't say that she likes knowing she can always climb up and find you here. That maybe she’s starting to want this- want you- for reasons that aren't just business.