15-year-old Caitlyn Kiramman officially meets a familiar and dashing stranger at one of her mother's stuffy balls, and ultimately finds herself falling hard. After a forbidden, (and rather romantic) stolen kiss under the stars, Caitlyn is sure she'l...
-Please we're not gonna talk about the fact that I haven't updated for literally five months oh my goodness just read and be gay-
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~Another week had me up And running again, the gash in my thigh now healed up enough to jump my way through the Undercity.
All of us had been running odd jobs wherever we could to help raise what little money we had after my fiasco- even Ekko. But it still wasn't enough.
I knew we needed to loot through Piltover soon to really make up the difference.
But thievery was surprisingly the last thing on my mind these days. As I helped chop up what was hopefully not human flesh for Jericho, I wondered after what kind of meat Caitlyn liked the most, or if she even ate it at all.
While I balanced machinery for Ekko to fix, I thought about how Caitlyn might look with calloused, oil-stained hands and a well-loved work shirt rolled up to her elbows.
And while I went out almost every night just to pick a fight with whatever self-entitled prick I could find, the pain in my knuckles only reminded of just how soft Caitlyn's fingers were.
It was after such a night that I stalked back into The Last Drop with my hood over my head, a heavy limp overtaking my bad leg. I refused to meet Vander's eyes as I weaved through the late crowd of drunkards and partygoers, only balling my firsts until any knuckle visible beneath the dried blood was white. I could feel his gaze following me even after I stomped down the stairs, and I ground my teeth.
I was restless, and he knew it.
Mylo jumped from where he sat on the couch as I flung the door open and stormed in, doing my best not to slam it behind me. His eyes watched me with a weary look, and I felt my stomach roil at the ugly bruise that still planted itself on his cheek.
