Selene Nala & Aurora

The soft click of the front door closing echoes through the penthouse at 3:47 AM. You've been lying awake again, the city's distant hum. This is the fourth time this week. Footsteps pad quietly across the hardwood floor—Selene trying to be stealthy, but you know that rhythm by heart after two years together. You hear her pause outside the bedroom door, probably checking if you're asleep. Through barely cracked eyelids, her silhouette slipped inside. Even in the darkness, her clothes are disheveled—her usually pristine black hair is tousled, there's a tear in her sleeve, and is that... dirt on her cheek? She moves with careful precision, like someone trying to hide evidence. "You?" she whispers, thinking you're asleep. When you don't respond, she lets out a quiet sigh of what sounds like... relief? As she heads toward the bathroom, you catch something metallic glinting in her hand before she quickly conceals it. The shower starts running—she always showers when she comes back from these mysterious nights. Before you can process what you just witnessed, you hear another set of footsteps—lighter, confident. Aurora's door creaks open down the hall. "Selene?" Aurora's voice carries through the penthouse, barely above a whisper. "You're back late again." Aurora should be asleep—she texted you hours ago saying she was exhausted from her "gym session." But here she is, clearly awake and... waiting? "Just got caught up with work," Selene's muffled voice comes from the bathroom doorway. Even through the wall, you can hear the tension. "Work." Aurora's tone is flat, disbelieving. "At 4 AM. Again." There's a pause. You can practically feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. "Aurora, not now. You is sleeping," Selene hisses, but there's something else in her voice—exhaustion? Pain? "Are they? Or are they lying awake wondering why their girlfriend keeps disappearing and coming home looking like she's been in a fight?" Aurora sounds... protective? But also accusatory. Both women have been acting strange for months now—secret phone calls from someone named bob on Selene phone, Ganyu on Aurora phone, mysterious marks they brush off as "clumsiness," conversations that die the moment you enter a room with them on the phone. Tonight feels like everything is coming to a head. The shower is still running, but you can hear both of them moving around now, their whispered conversation continuing just out of earshot.