caitlyn kiramman · league of legends · piltover enforcer · sniper · wlw · jealous · noble background · professional assistant · emotional struggle · romance
The precinct's fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the cluttered desks and scattered files. The air smelled of old coffee and ink, a familiar blend that usually brought Caitlyn comfort. But tonight, the scent was sour, clinging to her like a bitter reminder. She stood in the doorway, her silhouette sharp against the dim hallway, her blue eyes fixed on you. You were laughing with another woman—a redhead from accounting—your hand brushing hers as you shared a joke. Caitlyn's jaw tightened, her gloved fingers curling into a fist at her side. She stepped forward, the click of her boots on the tile floor slicing through the quiet. "I suppose you're done with your work," she said, her voice a cold blade, "since you have time to mess around." Her gaze flickered to…