Outside their bedroom a steady wind blew. Each gust rattled the windows, as though it were trying to break in, and Caitlyn couldn't help but flinch each time it picked up. She attempted to soothe herself by instead focusing on the gentle rustle of willow trees, which stood tall beneath the balcony of her and Vi’s bedroom. If she listened closely, Caitlyn could swear it sounded as though the leaves were whispering to one another, murmuring in low tones.
Sat up in bed, Caitlyn thumbed her way through a series of council documents, her temple throbbing with the strain her eye was making to read the blurry words in the dark. She was relying solely on the city lights that crept through a gap in the curtains, not wanting to disturb Vi, who dozed beside her, with the glare of a beside lamp.
It had only been a week since the battle, and thus since the beginning of Caitlyn's new life as a partially sighted individual. Her eye was still bandaged up by thick gauze and cloth, and in about another week, her father said she would be ready for an eyepatch. It was all taking a lot of getting used to : the vertigo, the migraines, the thick scar that slashed across her eyelid each time she went to replace her bandages. Every day it felt as though was discovering something new about her affliction. Such as what she was experiencing now : difficulty reading in the dark.
To distract herself, Caitlyn looked across at Vi, who was wrapped up in something of a caccoon, fashioned from blankets and bed sheets, leaving a measly draping of duvet across Caitlyn’s legs, though Caitlyn didn’t mind. Vi deserved to hog the blankets. In Caitlyn’s opinion, Vi deserved the world.
After all, she had been nothing but supportive this past week. Despite having to grapple with the tragedy of Vander and Jinx’s deaths, she’d been there for Caitlyn whenever she needed it. Whether it was to help with her eye drops, or deliver her a cup of tea at bed time, Vi was always ready and waiting with an eager smile plastered across her face. Caitlyn realised pretty quickly that Vi liked feeling helpful, feeling needed. And while Caitlyn hadn’t spoken it aloud yet, Vi’s presence in the Kiramman Manor had become as necessary to her as air these past few days. Perhaps she needed her too.
The wind picked up outside and Caitlyn jumped slightly. Vi shifted beneath the duvet in response, and Caitlyn glanced over at the movement. She admired the muss of her choppy pink hair nestled deep into the pillow, the steady rise and fall of her shoulders. She let it centre her.
Caitlyn glanced briefly down at her paperwork, then back to Vi, and smiled.
It was like a painting, and Caitlyn ran her eyes freely across it, as though she could make out the brush strokes.
For whatever reason, it all became very clear to Caitlyn then, like the sharpening of a camera lense. It didn’t surprise her. After all, it wasn’t as though the warm feeling that stirred in her chest was new information to her; not unfamiliar. She’d felt it from the get-go really, that first time Vi had called her ‘Cupcake’, and then again and again, every day after that. The difference between those instances and now, lying in the safety of their bed, the dust of their hard-won battles finally settling around them, was that Caitlyn realised she could speak it freely.
Perhaps Vi was still awake.
“Vi?” Caitlyn tested the waters, whispering into the darkness. Vi didn’t move a muscle, and after several moments of silence, Caitlyn wondered if she was already asleep. But then, her voice perked up, hoarse and groggy with tiredness.
“Go to sleep, Cait.” she whispered, back still turned to Caitlyn. “It’s not good for your eye to be reading this late.”
Caitlyn scoffed. “Did my father tell you that?”
“Yeah, multiple times. But you’re too stubborn to listen to him. Or me, apparently.”
“Harsh.”
“Honest.”
Caitlyn dropped the side of her head against the headboard, gazing affectionately at the blur of Vi’s silhouette. Her heart was beating frantically inside her chest, and yet, Caitlyn had never felt more at ease. “I love you.” she breathed.
The steady rise and fall of Vi’s shoulders stilled at that, and an empty silence filled only by the wind outside settled into the canopied bed frame for several beats. Her breathing resumed with an uneasy stutter of expelled air, a slight quiver to her shoulders. Eventually, Vi turned over, twisting in their sheets so that she was gazing up toward Caitlyn. Even in the haze of night, the woman’s eyes were filled to the brim with so much pure, untainted fondness, Caitlyn felt a lot like crying. The moonlight shone in, bathing them, and the willow trees rustled, as though to score the sweetness of the moment.
“I love you, too.” Vi murmured, emotion thick in her throat. Caitlyn smiled softly, as Vi let out a short, wet chuckle. “Even if you are stubborn as a mule.”
Caitlyn couldn’t even bring herself to come up with a snappy retort to that. She just smiled and giggled, her heart filled with so much love and warmness for Vi, that she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else.
Caitlyn reached out, brushing her thumb along Vi’s cheekbone. It was far less sharp than it used to be, now blanketed by plump, healthy skin. Vi leant into the touch, just as she always had, always would, scarred lips upturned.
The willows whispered on.