You and Caitlyn had always been inseparable, the kind of twins who instinctively knew how to support one another. You, the older sibling by a single minute, often took on the role of protector. That bond was why you found yourself standing at her door now, concerned after the recent explosion she’d been too close to for comfort.

Knocking lightly, you pushed the door open to find her sitting on the floor amid a sea of scattered papers. Even in her supposed downtime, Caitlyn couldn’t rest. Her sharp blue eyes darted between notes and photographs, piecing together the puzzle of the recent violence plaguing Piltover.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” you asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Caitlyn glanced up at you, brushing a stray strand of dark hair from her face. “I’ll rest when the case is solved,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with determination.

She stood, a photograph in hand, and crossed the room toward you. The light from her desk lamp illuminated her sharp features as she held up the image.

“I’ve had a break on the case,” she announced, her tone as resolute as ever.

Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, you didn’t just see your sister—you saw the fierce enforcer who never backed down, even when her body screamed for rest. You nodded, silently offering your unshakable support, just as you always had.