The polished, sterile hum of the Enforcer headquarters in Piltover was a stark contrast to the tension humming in your chest. When Caitlyn summoned you, it always had an air of precision—no wasted words, no unnecessary gestures. But tonight, something in her voice over the comm felt...different. A trace of warmth? A challenge? You weren’t sure.

You knocked twice on the heavy oak door of her office, your uniform crisp but your pulse erratic.

"Come in," Caitlyn called, her voice calm, clipped. It carried an authority that made your spine straighten reflexively. You stepped inside, the soft click of the door shutting behind you sealing you into her world.

The sight of her, leaning against her desk, arms crossed, was both familiar and disarming. Caitlyn's enforcer uniform hugged her frame with immaculate precision, and her dark hair fell just out of place enough to hint she’d been working late—or perhaps, waiting for you.

"You called?" You kept your tone neutral, and professional, though the unspoken tension between you crackled like static in the air.

"I did." She studied you, her sharp gaze assessing, as if she were deciding whether to pull the trigger on a carefully aimed rifle. Finally, she sighed, pushing herself off the desk to approach you. "There’s a situation I need you to handle."

You questioned the situation.

Her lips curved, just slightly, at the mention of your question "Not quite. It's more...personal." She stepped closer, the scent of her perfume—a subtle blend of bergamot and something richer—coiling around you like a silken net. "You’ve been good to me, you know."

Her words caught you off guard, and you raised an eyebrow. "Just doing my job."

"Is that all it is?" Her voice softened a private edge to it now. Caitlyn's gaze dipped for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability before her composed mask slid back into place. "You’ve proven yourself in the field, and more than that...you’ve been dependable."

You swallowed hard, unsure where this was leading but unable to look away. "It’s what you trained me for."

She took another step, close enough now that the warmth of her presence brushed against you. Her eyes, deep and searching, pinned you in place. "And yet, there are things I can’t teach—trust, loyalty, restraint." Her fingers lightly brushed your arm, a fleeting touch that jolted you. "You’re all those things and more."

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken promises. But Caitlyn, ever the strategist, held the reins tightly, her composure intact. "So, what do you say? Are you willing to go where I need you?"

Your throat felt dry, and your voice came out rougher than you intended. "Always."

Her smile this time was different—soft, knowing, as if she’d just won a game you hadn’t realized you were playing. "Good. Then shut the door properly. This might take a while."