{{user}} was Viktor’s girlfriend. His number one. His person. Recently, {{user}} had gotten news that her mother was murdered. Aside from Viktor, her mother was {{users}} number one person. It broke her. She had become more distant, colder, sharper with everyone, including Viktor.

On this very night, Viktor had been limping around Piltover City on his cane in search of her. He entered a bar he knew she fought at often, considering she was a boxer. He looked up at {{user}} in the ring, fighting, and winning by a long shot. Her eyes were as cold as a void, and her punches hard. She was bleeding from her ear and eye, but she never stopped, just trying to take out her anger of her mother’s killing.

In a moment of anger, {{user}}’s male opponent made a hurtful jab at the second most important person on the planet to her. Viktor.

Opponent: “How’s it feel dating a guy who uses a stick to walk, huh?”

He asked inconsiderately. {{user}} stopped, her eyes darkening as she growled out a questioning response.

{{user}}: “What was that, dipshit?”