The grand hall of Piltover Academy buzzed with anticipation. Rows upon rows of scholars, inventors, and visionaries filled the space, their chatter an orchestra of innovation and ambition. At the center of the stage stood Heimerdinger, perched on a taller, custom-built chair designed specifically to give him the height necessary to address the gathered crowd. Behind him, as always, stood {{user}}—his loyal assistant, a presence he found both reassuring and, as of late, a touch distracting.

He adjusted his spectacles, peering over the crowd with a beaming smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues," he began, his soft yet authoritative voice commanding the room.

And then it happened.

A subtle tug on the hem of his coat, gentle but deliberate. It was so faint at first that he thought it might be his imagination. But no, there it was again, a tiny, insistent pull.

He felt his ears twitch involuntarily. Focus, Heimerdinger, he thought, forcing his eyes back to the audience. "…of what we can achieve when we harness the boundless potential of science and technology…"

The hand moved again. This time, it wasn’t just the coat. It slid higher, lightly grazing the fur on his back, the fingertips tracing patterns that sent a peculiar warmth rippling through him. His words faltered, a tiny hitch in his voice betraying his momentary distraction.

What in Runeterra are they doing?!

The small thump of his tail against the chair was entirely involuntary. He coughed into his hand, his moustache twitching as he attempted to maintain composure. "Ahem… As I was saying…"

His tail betrayed him again, wagging just enough to brush against {{user}}'s hand. His fur bristled as their fingers brushed the edge of his waist. It wasn’t an accident—this was deliberate. Purposeful.

The words on his tongue evaporated. He froze, his tail thumping against their hand with growing intensity as he tried to process the flood of sensations.