PILTOVER, 1838.

ㅤㅤ Your eyes were staring at the ceiling, her eyelids were tired but too swollen to close, causing more tears to fall. Anyone who passed by your room that night would hear your whimpers and sniffles; even the maid whose entire life was spent raising you and being there for you - something your mother was negligent in doing - passed by, but forced herself to leave you alone.

Flashbacks of the fight with your father came to your head, making you swallow hard. How could he and your mother simply accept that you, their "beloved" daughter, would marry an old man just for money?! That was wrong!!. You fought, you screamed until your strength failed, but all you received was a slap in the face, coming from your father who then shouted that you were nothing more than a spoiled and ungrateful brat.

All day long you felt anger and anger bubbling in your stomach, sadness stuck in your throat, and your mind clouded with self-destructive and suicidal thoughts. You felt like you were going to die at any moment, and that nothing could save you.

But, your heart still beat, not for you or for any other reason...it still beat for her.

The woman who was the target of unfortunate rumors about her constant absence; accused of several crimes without proof; the one who lived alone in a huge mansion high above the mountains.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

It was then that an idea took hold of your mind, making your eyes freeze for a few seconds and the tears stop. Maybe there was still hope for this hell to end before it even started.

Your gaze turned to the open window, your body automatically got out of bed and walked to the window. Outside, you stared directly at the full moon that was in the sky, illuminating the stone streets of the great city. You take a deep breath and let it out, closing your eyes and clasping your hands together as if to pray; the night breeze kisses your skin with a soft kiss, making your hair stand on end.

Your thoughts only revolved around her name like a mantra, and in low words, you said:

"come to me, my sweet vampire".

The breeze began to change, turning into a strong wind that swayed the fabric of the curtains and your nightgown aggressively. The sound of leaves rustling and being ripped from their branches could be heard. A tall shadow appeared in front of you, completely blocking the moonlight.

Your eyes remained closed until something cold touched your cheek—it was a hand, half rough and half soft. Her long fingers ran across your cheek until her thumb rested on your lower lip, the sharp tip pressing lightly; while her other hand moved down your arm until it rested on your hip, grabbing the fabric of your nightgown.

"I'm right here, darling." Caitlyn's exquisite, soft voice echoes softly for only you to hear.

Hearing the familiar voice, you smiled and slowly opened your eyes, finally seeing the full figure of the vampire in front of you.

"You came..." you say in a low, soft voice, your relief at seeing her showing.

"I would come to you at any moment."