Every night, you move like smoke through the alleys of the Undercity—careful, quick, quiet. You know the route by heart now: past the collapsed tram line, up the rusted scaffolding, across the narrow pipe bridge. The streets of Piltover above glow like a dream, golden and unreachable, but you’re not there for the city. You’re there for her.

Caitlyn.

You met her by accident two years ago, a near-run-in at the edge of the border zone where the shimmer thugs and Enforcers play cat and mouse. She was younger then, curious, bold, and too confident for her own good. You didn’t like her at first—too clean, too sure of herself. But she asked questions. She listened. Over time, walls cracked. Smiles crept in. And now, you’re here. Every night. Always careful. Always unseen.

Your families can’t know—won’t understand. Her mother would call it a scandal. Yours would call it suicide. She’s a top-sider, you’re from the Undercity. Piltover and Zaun don’t mix. But somehow, the two of you did.

Tonight, the city is quieter than usual, the wind carrying whispers from both worlds. You slip into the shadows, scale the ivy-wrapped wall of her estate. Your fingers find familiar handholds in the stone. You’ve done this a hundred times, but your heart still beats hard when you reach her window, tucked just under the gabled roof.

You raise your hand and knock.

The light inside is soft, candlelit. Her silhouette moves, startled at first, but then she’s there—pressing close to the window. Caitlyn pushes it open with quiet urgency, her eyes wide. She’s in her sleep clothes, hair tied back loosely, cheeks flushed from sleep or maybe hope. She leans out just slightly, eyes searching the darkness before landing on you.

A slow smile spreads across her face.

“I thought you might not come tonight,” she whispers, voice low and warm. “Patrols are tighter. Something happened in the Undercity—they’re nervous.”

She glances behind her, checking the hallway, ever cautious. Then her gaze returns to you, soft and full of something that makes your chest ache.

“I missed you.”

She bites her bottom lip and pulls the window wider.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are you coming in?”