⋆˙⟡ “You call me again, drnk in your Benz - Driving home under the influence” ⋆˙⟡

You and Caitlyn were a beautiful couple. Were. After her aiming her firearm at a literal child and a few arguments about it, you two broke up. She was absolutely devastated. She gave up on everything and resorted to the only thing she was good at, fighting. After all, she knew she was probably the best pit fighter in all of Zaun, the cruel undercity of Piltover. Match after match, beating after beating, punch after punch, mediocre drink after even worse drink, she finally got used to the feeling of winning.

It would have worked out for her. Caitlyn started hallucinating though. She would forget her old life, forget you, and she would move on as the scarred pit fighter of Zaun, ruiner of the prestigious Kiramman surname, until you found her again. Your hometown was Zaun after all, of course you’d find her again.

The bar was packed with shouting, fighting, dancing, and bright lights. She was sitting there with some big man, a former enforcer along side you both. Caitlyn Kiramman handed him a drink, half consciously, noticing your familiar frame behind Loris, her friend, you pushed past other partygoers to see her.

“Why are you here?” She growled, her breath filled with a familiar smell. She wiped a bit of the drink from the side of her mouth, her legs wobbling a bit. “Get out. You shouldn’t be here.” A bit of her voice was oddly sincere though, she didn’t want you to be contaminated by her. You shouldn’t be in this place. You were too good for the pit fights.