Chapter 12
Chapter XII
The bottle of non-alcoholic beer lay in front of her, cool to the touch, but it’s content already lukewarm from its time there. Vi had only taken a couple of sips before losing interest, focusing on the faint clink of the glass as she ran her fingers along the rim of the bottle and the diffuse glimmer it reflected off its surface under the bar lights.
The Last Drop wasn't yet at its peak, a detail Vi appreciates. It was hours away from her performance time, but she had been there long before then, taking refuge in the dimness of the bar as if she could find answers among the shadows and the distant murmur of the few diners passing their time in there.
Her head was full of noise, the same way it has been the entire week.
A whirlwind of complicated emotions and wants, and at the center of her turmoil was Caitlyn.
Caitlyn and her soft laugh as she tried to describe the colors and things she saw. Caitlyn and her hands, safe and caring when she held her. Caitlyn and the way she said her name, as if every syllable was made of something precious.
Vi leaned her forehead against the bottle, exhaling a frustrated sigh.
Why did she feel that way?
She'd spent her entire life keeping her heart at bay, ignoring any hint of emotion that might make her feel vulnerable. She didn't have time to fall in love. She didn't have room for that in her life. What she had so far was supposed to be enough—perhaps unsatisfying in some ways, but enough.
But Caitlyn… Caitlyn had found a loophole and squeezed inside before Vi could stop her. And now she was caught between what she wanted and what she thought she deserved.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers gripping the bottle tightly. She thought about her conversation with Powder and Ekko, how they'd both looked at her with a mixture of frustration and resignation when she tried to justify why Caitlyn shouldn't notice someone like her. She thought about Powder's words regarding her sudden change of heart about the girl from Piltover.
Even so…
It's not enough.
I'm not enough.
That phrase kept echoing in her head like a persistent echo from that afternoon, and even though she knew she shouldn't listen to it, sometimes she couldn't help but feel it was true...
“You’re going to fry a few brain cells if you keep thinking so hard” Vander’s deep, calm voice brought her out of her reverie.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed when her father's giant shadow swayed across the bar until he was right in front of her. Vi blinked, realizing she'd been fiddling with the bottle between her fingers without even noticing.
“What’s up, kid?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar and watching her with that look that always made her feel like he could see right through her.
Vi shrugged, feigning disinterest.
“Nothing”
Vander snorted, taking a clean glass and beginning to dry it with a rag, his wise, mature eyes fixed on his youngest child. “Nothing feels too much coming from you.”
Vi clicked her tongue, but didn't reply immediately. She knew there was no point in lying to Vander. She'd never been able to do it successfully. She could sometimes evade certain topics and conversations with him, but lying directly to his face was practically impossible. They both knew that.
He waited silently, giving her space to speak when she was ready.
Finally, Vi sighed and turned the bottle over in her hands.
“Have you ever felt like something good is right in front of you, but you can’t help thinking that if you take it, you’ll ruin it?” she asked, suddenly feeling insecure sitting there.
Vander watched her closely before placing the glass on the counter and hanging the cloth over his shoulder. In the dim lighting of the bar, Vi could barely make out the shadow of the man moving other bottles around.
“Is that all you’re worried about?” he asked. “Or is there something else going on?”
Vi didn't respond, her eyes wandering tentatively and uncertainly around, trying to focus on some clear spot behind her father. But the silence was confirmation enough.
Vander smiled faintly. “It has to do with your friend from Piltover, Caitlyn, doesn’t it?”
Vi gave a dry laugh, shaking her head.
“Powder’s mouth is too big for her on good” she exclaimed with some irritation.
Vander shrugged serenely.
“She didn’t need to tell me anything,” he replied. “I can tell from your face.”
Vi frowned.
“Am I that obvious?” She tilted her head to one side, looking thoughtful.
“Only for those of us who know you well,” Vander rested both forearms on the bar, leaning slightly toward her. “Besides, you’ve been spending a lot of time with her… I’m very glad you’re making new friends, Vi. You certainly need it, though I’m a little worried you’re overthinking something that’s simpler than you think.”
Vi clenched her jaw, feeling the weight of those words.
“If that’s the case then tell me, dad. What can I do?” The young woman couldn't help but let the frustration escape her tone, letting out part of the burden she'd felt for days.
Vander watched her for a long moment, as if deciding what to say. Then, with a fatherly gesture, he gently ruffled her hair—smiling when Vi protested—before leaning back against the bar.
“For starters,” he said lightly, “you might want to stop expecting everything to go to hell before it even starts. That’s pretty fatalistic of you.”
Vi snorted in disbelief. “Is that all your advice? Your great wisdom?”
“Well, you can also keep drowning yourself in non-alcoholic beer like it’s the end of the world,” he mocked. “But it doesn’t seem like a very effective strategy.”
Vi half smiled, shaking her head.
“You are annoying old man”
“Says the brat too stubborn for her own good,” Vander retorted, taking the beer from her hand and replacing it with a colder drink.
Vi caught a whiff of strawberry juice on the new bottle, much to her irritation and exhaustion. She shook her head with a faint smile, though it didn't last long. She leaned her elbow on the bar and dropped her chin into her hand, absentmindedly playing with the bottle cap before taking a long drink, feeling the liquid trickle down her throat. Secretly, she wished she had a little alcohol in her system to help her relax faster, but the juice was fresh, and she couldn't deny that the sweet, fruity flavor worked wonders on her insides.
Vander watched her silently for a moment longer than necessary in her opinion, as if trying to decide whether or not to speak.
“It’s not good for you to be like this, kid,” he said at the end, in a lower, more serious tone.
Vi blinked, turning her face toward him.
"Like what?"
“So... trapped in your own head,” Vander turned the glass thoughtfully in his hands. “You’re letting this internal fight consume you more than it should.”
Vi looked away, feeling a little exposed under Vander's scrutiny. This wasn't the first time Vander had said something like this to her. Unlike Powder, who had a habit of being overprotective and controlling her every move, Vander had always been more subtle in his caretaking. He didn't pressure her, didn't smother her. But when the time came, he let her know he was there, watching, ready to shoulder some of the weight she insisted on carrying alone.
And maybe part of the reason Vi didn't want to talk was because she knew if she did, Vander would find a way to make her feel better. To make her believe she could have what she wanted.
And that was precisely what terrified her.
“It’s not easy, Vander,” she finally admitted, with a tired sigh. “I don’t know what to do with all of this.”
Vander raised an eyebrow. “What is 'this' exactly?”
Vi clasped her hands together uncomfortably.
“With... what I feel. With what I want” she said softly.
The man leaned an elbow on the bar, and Vi could imagine him looking at her with that expression of infinite patience that was so characteristic of him.
“And what do you want?”
Vi keep silent.
Because the honest answer was too big to put into words.
Vi wanted Caitlyn. She wanted the way she made her feel. She wanted her laugh, her touch, her presence. But at the same time… She wanted to not want her. Because wanting something, having it and cherishing it, meant she could lose it too.
Vander seemed to notice her dilemma, because he put what he was holding aside and exhaled softly.
“Vi,” his voice was firmer now, “I’ve watched you fight the world since you were a little girl, with fists too big and a courage beyond your size. But what you’ve never understood is that not everything in this life has to be a constant struggle. Sometimes you just have to let things flow naturally.”
Vi swallowed hard.
Vander was right. She'd always thought the world belonged only to those who took it by force. That nothing good came without a fight. But Caitlyn wasn't a battle she had to win; the woman was already there in her life. And Vi just had to make sure she let herself feeling it.
Vander broke the silence once more, before Vi could respond. His tone soft and warm.
“You know, when you were a little girl, I always called you my stubborn little warrior.”
Vi snorted. “You keep calling me that sometimes”
Vander laughed softly in response.
“Yes, but back then I said that because there was no way you could stay still,” he explained. “From the moment you learned to walk, you were a mess. Running, jumping and climbing everywhere. Always chasing your sister and the others, trying to prove you were as strong as them. You gave me more than a few gray hairs back then.”
Vi smiled faintly, vaguely remembering the stories Powder told her about her younger self, her more optimistic past free of guilt or worry.
“But also,” Vander continued, “you were the happiest of us. The one who always found something to laugh about, even when everything was going wrong.”
Vander's voice subdued, and Vi felt her chest tighten even more.
“And then… then they took that away from you” he sounded distant, immersed in the past.
Vi lowered her head, her hand gripping the bottle tighter.
“Vander, I…”
“I know, kid,” Vander ran a hand through her hair again, gently ruffling it, though this time Vi didn’t react “I just want you to know that if there’s something or someone that makes you feel a little bit of that happiness again don’t let it go just because you think you don’t deserve it. After all, my little warrior is still there, waiting for the chance to rise again, you just have to believe it and let it happen”
Vi closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, unable to ignore the emotions tightening inside her. She tried to smile a little despite everything.
“I just asked a simple question, old man. You didn’t have to lecture me,” she said.
Vander smiled calmly.
“As long as you remain being my daughter, there will be no end of them” he said.
Vi nodded, her hands fidgeting as her mind wandered through everything Vander had just told her. Were her feelings for Caitlyn really that obvious? Was her fear of getting too close that transparent?
“What if I disappoint her?” the doubt escaped before she could contain it.
“Why you think you would do that?”
Vi gave a dry laugh. “Because I always do it”
Vander frowned.
“Of course not…”
“I disappointed Powder”
Her sister's name seemed to hang between them for a moment, the weight of years reflected in that single confession that took them both by surprise for different reasons. Vi didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she felt Vander give her wrist a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure her.
“I don’t know where that idea comes from, but Powder has never thought that you disappointed her” his voice was firm, with the certainty of someone who knew the hearts of both sisters better than they dared to admit “Quite the opposite. She’s very proud of you”
Vi felt a lump in her throat, trying to hold back the tears that had suddenly appeared in her eyes.
She'd spent her entire life escaping her darkest thoughts, and now, in recent weeks, they seemed to overflow with intensity, beyond her control. An immense torrent of emotions and hesitations that battered her, and which she had no way of containing.
She wanted to hide them away, bury them all in a dark, deep drawer of her mind, to feel stable again, as stable as she could be in Zaun. Yet at that moment, with the noise of the bar surrounding her like a distant murmur and the incomprehensible, absurd feeling of loneliness weighing on her shoulders, she couldn't suppress everything she wanted. Even with Vander's calm, steady presence before her, she could feel the pressure of her insecurities eating away at her from within.
“Have you ever…?” her voice was lower than usual, as if she was afraid to ask the question, “Have you ever thought I’m a burden?”
Vander stopped.
The silence between them grew heavier, almost suffocating. Vi didn't raise her head, but she could feel her father's reproachful gaze on her, his brow furrowed, his jaw set.
“Why do you ask that?” His voice was calm, but with that serious tone he only used when something really worried him.
Vi twisted the metal ring on her finger and rolled her shoulder, a nervous tic she'd had for years.
“I don’t know,” she sighed, with a bitter smile. “Sometimes I feel like I am.”
Vander placed both hands on the bar, leaning forward.
“Vi…”
“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” she said quickly, as if trying to avoid being interrupted. “I know you love me. I know Powder and the others love me. I’m not saying it like I think you all hate me or anything.”
Vander remained silent, letting her continue.
“But… I can’t ignore the fact that I’m a problem most of the time. I can’t fight like I did when I was a kid, I can’t move around as freely as the rest. I can’t do half the things other people can. And someone’s always worried about me, always watching me…” Vi lifted her head, and though she couldn’t see him properly, she knew Vander was watching her intently “And sometimes… I wonder if life would be easier for all of you without me to worry about. If it would be easier for Powder not to have to worry about me all the time.”
The silence that followed was cold and suffocating, but it didn't last long.
Vander moved firmly, circling the bar in long strides that echoed on the wooden floor, until he was at her side. Vi didn't have time to react before she felt his large hand resting on her shoulder, a warm, strong weight that soothed her almost immediately. She hadn't realized how tense she was until she felt her shoulders relax under his touch.
“Listen to me carefully, kid” Vander’s voice was filled with the depth and endless love he always had when he said something important. “If I ever made you feel like you were a burden to me or anyone else, then I made the worst mistake of my life.”
Vi opened her lips, but Vander shook his head before she could reply.
“You are my daughter, Vi. Not because you carry my blood, but because I chose you as such from the moment I held you in my arms as a baby. And never in this life, nor in any other, will you be a burden to me.” His tone was firm, unwavering, as if he wanted to make sure those words remained engraved deep within her. “Some things are different with you, yes, but that doesn’t mean I think less of you or consider you a burden. Nothing could be further from the truth.”
Vi swallowed, her throat closing.
"But…"
“No buts,” Vander gently squeezed her shoulder, forcing her to turn in her chair toward him.
Vi pressed her lips together, her body rigid under his touch.
“I just… want to feel a little more useful,” she whispered. “Help you more.”
Vander smiled sadly. Vi couldn't see it, but she felt it in the way his hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her toward him in a tight hug.
A hug that said everything words couldn't.
Vi stood still for a moment before finally giving in to the gesture. She allowed herself to retreat into Vander's embrace, feeling the warmth and firmness of his arms surrounding her as protectively as ever. It was an anchor, a reminder that, despite everything, she would always have a place to return to. Vi clutched his shirt a little tighter, as if afraid that if she let go, everything she felt would pull her down into a bottomless abyss.
“We can work on that, if you want,” Vander whispered into her hair. “Maybe I can teach you a thing or two around here or help you get a better job you enjoy more.”
Vi inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling in an attempt to calm herself.
“Whatever it is, we have time for it. Okay?” Vander said, holding her a little closer.
The young woman nodded slowly, burying her head a little deeper against his chest. Because, even though the weight on her chest hadn't completely vanished, in that moment, in that embrace, she was able to breathe a little easier.
She couldn't measure exactly how long they stood like that, but she knew the moment was coming to an end when she sensed a small change in the air and the subtle way Vander loosened his embrace slightly, his attention momentarily elsewhere.
Vi didn't need to look up to notice Powder's presence near them.
Her sister had always had an unmistakable energy, an aura of contained electricity that Vi could distinguish even among the din of the bar. But this time, something was different. There was a pause in her gait, a hesitation in the way she approached. Powder was rarely careful when breaking into a conversation, and yet here she was, standing still a few feet away. Vi noticed it immediately, felt her sister's attention focus on her and Vander, on the unusually prolonged embrace between them.
That only meant one thing: she was worried.
Again.
Vi sighed and forced herself to slowly pull away from Vander, still feeling the warmth of his arms around her. She didn't want Powder to see her like this, breaking down in the middle of the bar like a little girl seeking comfort from her father. Even though that was exactly what happened.
Powder cleared her throat, trying to ease the tension.
“Well… this is weird,” she said in a tone that was meant to be casual, but that didn’t entirely hide her unease. “Normally you both don’t hug this much unless one is drunk or someone’s dying.”
Vi snorted and shook her head.
"It’s all good”
“You don’t look good.”
“Pow, don’t start”
Powder narrowed her eyes, scanning her as if she could see right through the lie. Finally, she clicked her tongue and let out a theatrical sigh before leaning over the bar and pulling Vi towards her in an unexpected move, enveloping her in a tight, sudden hug that nearly knocked her out of her seat.
Vi blinked, completely taken aback.
“If Vander’s giving you worried dad hugs, then you clearly need one from me too,” Powder said, her tone stubborn and feigning indifference. “I have no idea what’s wrong with you, but I’ll take care of that later.”
Vi felt laughter bubbling in her throat, but also something else. Something warm and comforting. She allowed herself to relax in her sister's embrace for a few seconds, burying her face in her shoulder before gently pushing her away.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” she muttered, feigning annoyance.
Powder chuckled and pulled away from her with a satisfied smile.
“You should tell me what happened later,” she said lightly, but her tone made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion.
Before Vi could retort, a familiar voice jolted her out of the comforting bubble she was in.
“¿Vi?”
The aforementioned woman felt her body freeze for a moment, easily recognizing the voice. By that point in her life, Vi was completely certain she'd be able to distinguish that tone and accent even if they were in the middle of a bustling crowd.
She whipped her head around, her heart giving a small, unexpected jolt as it confirmed what her mind had already guessed the moment her eyes connected with a tall, slim figure a few steps from them.
Caitlyn was there.
Powder smiled with a sly, malicious expression at her side.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that,” she said with feigned innocence. “I didn’t come alone.”
Vi did her best to ignore Powder's laughter, her eyes focusing with difficulty on the new silhouette that had joined her little bubble of familiarity. The dim lighting of the bar distorted her vision even further, but that didn't matter. Because, even though to Vi the entire world was made up of blurry shadows and indistinct shapes, Caitlyn always stood out somehow.
Maybe it was the way she carried herself, with that natural, graceful confidence that made everything else feel awkward around her. Or maybe it was her voice, which caressed the air with an unmistakable warmth.
Or maybe it was just because she was Caitlyn.
Vi knew how the light reflected in the other woman hair, how her posture was always firm but never rigid. She knew that in that moment Caitlyn was watching her with that warm expression of hers, the one Vi couldn't see, but could feel.
She then felt the heat creeping up her neck and face, trying to control her expression so as not to betray the turmoil of emotions she felt at that precise moment.
Shit.
“Hi, Vi,” Caitlyn repeated, with that small touch of tenderness that did nothing to help her growing embarrassment.
Because of course, Caitlyn had just seen her tangled in Powder and Vander's arms, with an expression that surely screamed sheltered child in distress. Not her finest moment, for sure.
Vi cleared her throat and forced herself to sit up straight, trying to regain some dignity in her posture.
“Hey, Cupcake” she greeted, pretending to be uninterested, though her voice came out a little more strained than she intended.
Caitlyn tilted her head just a little, that slight curve to her lips that Vi couldn't see, but somehow knew was there.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
Vi felt Powder, still at her side, cross her arms with a smirk. Vander simply let out a small, amused sigh, turning away from the three of them to return to his post behind the bar and serve a new customer who had caught his attention.
Vi shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Yes, yes. Everything is fine,” she replied quickly, wishing she could control the burning in her cheeks.
Powder let out a chuckle.
“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. She was just having a super cute moment with dad and her darling big sister. Nothing important,” she mocked.
Vi turned her head in her direction in disbelief.
“Pow, I swear if you don’t shut up…”
“What? Are you embarrassed, sis?” Powder crooned, amused.
Caitlyn, luckily or unluckily for Vi, seemed more touched than anything else.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she commented softly, and Vi knew in that instant that she would never live this down.
Because of course, only Caitlyn could think everything in that situation was cute.
Vi shifted once more, tentatively reaching for the cane she knew she'd left beside her for something to hold onto, feeling the pressure of all the eyes on her.
“Can you stop looking at me like I'm a damn fairground attraction,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.
Powder laughed again, but Vander simply patted her on the back before returning to his work. Vi snorted, shaking her head. But when she raised her head again, her embarrassment was overshadowed by a new question that hit her suddenly.
Caitlyn and Powder… had arrived together.
She frowned.
That wasn’t normal.
With Powder, Caitlyn always had to be on the defensive, always had to measure her words and move cautiously. And although her sister wasn't being overtly hostile at the moment, Vi detected the stiffness in her posture, the subtle tension in her shoulders, the slightly drier tone of her teasing.
Powder was trying to behave, and that, coming from her, was a big deal.
Vi tilted her head in her direction.
“Why did you both were together?” she asked.
Powder snorted, crossing her arms. “It’s not like it’s by choice.”
Vi raised an eyebrow, her discomfort momentarily forgotten.
"Huh?"
Caitlyn intervened before Powder could make an unnecessary comment.
“It was a coincidence,” she admitted, shrugging. “I ran into Powder outside and… well, it was still convenient since I was looking for her.”
Vi tilted her head, skeptical.
“Were you coming to talk to my sister?”
Caitlyn nodded slowly, and Vi could easily see the doubt in her posture.
“Yes, but also with you.”
Curiosity sparked in Vi's mind, but before she could ask, Powder let out an exaggerated sigh.
“How lucky I am” she said, with a barely forced smile. “It seems the fine lady of Piltover is not only coming for my sister, but for me as well. What an honor.”
Vi felt a pang of discomfort at the way she said it. It wasn't a cruel taunt. It wasn't the cutting, hostile tone Powder usually used when she really wanted to distance herself from Caitlyn. But it wasn't completely friendly, either.
It was like she was walking a tightrope between tolerance and annoyance, forcing herself not to be an idiot out of consideration for Vi.
Which… Vi appreciated. But she also knew Powder was at the end of her patience, which wasn't much, to be honest.
Caitlyn, however, was not intimidated.
“Believe me, Powder, if it weren’t important I wouldn’t be here,” she said calmly and frankly.
Powder snorted in disbelief, but didn't reply. Vi looked from one to the other, feeling like she was missing something important in their interaction.
“Okay…” she muttered, “I still have some time, I think…”
“About an hour and a half,” Powder chimed in quietly.
Vi raised an eyebrow, unsure how productive a conversation between the three of them could be with Powder's passive-aggressive attitude in the middle and with so little time available.
Caitlyn took a breath. “Perhaps, could we talk somewhere a little more private?”
:::::
Caitlyn hesitated for a moment at the edge of the stairs, staring into the dim light that illuminated the narrow hallway that led down to the back rooms of The Last Drop. She wasn't sure what she expected to find, but there was something about stepping through that door that made her feel like she was entering forbidden territory.
This was one part of the bar that was clearly not made for other people to see.
And yet, Vi descended the steps with the same ease and confidence she had anywhere else, no hesitation in her stride, her hand barely brushing the metal railing and her cane just touching the steps, using it as a guide more out of habit than necessity. Caitlyn hurried to follow her, after making sure Jayce would be fine alone at the bar and wouldn't start a drinking contest like last time they were there.
Only the gods and Mel know how hard it was to drag him home last time he was drunk and out of his mind.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Caitlyn noticed the atmosphere change. It was different from the bustling bar she'd left behind; here, the sound of voices and music felt more muffled, as if the concrete swallowed the noise and left only a comforting distant echo floating in the air.
The small room they entered looked modest but cozy. There were a couple of old sofas, a low table with a few scattered bottles and glasses, and shelves lined with boxes of bar supplies. To one side, a half-open door revealed what appeared to be a small bedroom, with a metal bunk bed and a desk piled high with tools.
Caitlyn blinked, taking in every detail.
“Is this where you keep the bar supplies?” she asked, somewhat cautiously, not wanting to sound nosy.
Powder, who was walking behind them, snorted before collapsing onto one of the sofas with an ease that indicated familiarity.
“Just personal items. The storage room is somewhere else,” she said, her head resting on the backrest. “We used to live here.”
Caitlyn turned her face toward her in surprise.
"Here?"
Vi, who had been leaning against the table with her arms crossed, tilted her head in Caitlyn direction with an amused smile.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
Caitlyn looked at the place with fresh eyes, her mind trying to piece together the image of both of them growing up within those walls. It wasn't that the place was in bad condition, but it definitely wasn't a conventional home.
There were no large windows or personal decorations, just the bare necessities.
Still, Vi had walked through the small place with the confidence of someone who knew every inch, every edge, and every obstacle, as if these walls were part of her. Caitlyn, with a pang in her chest, understood that, in a way, they were.
Powder let out a long sigh, crossing one leg over the other as she drummed her fingers against the armrest of the sofa with obvious impatience.
“Okay, little miss detective,” Powder said in a dry tone, crossing the arms over her chest as she glared at Caitlyn. “You’ve already brought us here, to the most private part of our sacred and beloved bar. Now are you going to tell us what this is all about, or are we going to continue the round of questions about our lives?”
Vi clicked her tongue and turned to her sister, her brow furrowed in an expression Caitlyn was beginning to recognize: that mix of exasperation and affection that only Vi could convey.
“Pow,” she said, a warning in her voice.
“What?” Powder raised her hands in a gesture of exaggerated innocence, as if she didn’t understand why Vi was scolding her. “I’m just saying, if she called us here, it’s because she wants something, right? It’s not like we have all night to waste time.”
Vi shook her head, exhaling through her nose with a sigh that seemed laden with years of patience. Without another word, she walked over to the couch and sank down with a heaviness that indicated she was more than used to this kind of reaction from her sister.
“Maybe you could not sound like a complete idiot for five minutes,” she muttered, running a hand through her short hair as she leaned her elbow on the arm of the couch.
Powder stuck out her tongue at her, quick and almost childish, but Caitlyn noticed how her eyes shone with a spark of complicity.
“You could not act like this is a fucking state meeting,” she retorted, leaning forward with a smirk.
Vi dropped her head back against the back of the sofa and turned slightly in her direction, with an expression that mixed tiredness and resignation, although a smile appeared on her face.
“Just give it a break, okay?”
Powder rolled her eyes, but Caitlyn noticed there was no real irritation in the gesture.
“Sure. And then we’ll have a bonfire and share childhood stories” she said sarcastically, though her voice sounded more playful than biting.
Caitlyn watched the interaction closely. The dynamic between Vi and Powder was… fascinating. It was a constant back-and-forth, a mix of sisterly rivalry and genuine affection, where the verbal pushes were a disguised form of concern and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Because even though Powder was acting annoyed, Caitlyn could see the way her fingers clenched and unclenched impatiently on her own knee, as if she were holding back from saying anything else in front of Caitlyn or reach to Vi. And Vi, though she was sighing and shaking her head, didn't really seem bothered either. There was a relaxation in her posture, a kind of ease that only comes with family.
Caitlyn also noticed how Vi, despite her blindness, seemed to sense Powder's every move. When her sister leaned forward, Vi turned her head slightly, as if she could sense the shifting energy in the air. And when Powder leaned back, Vi adjusted her position on the couch, as if synchronized with her in ways that went beyond the visual.
It was so natural, so intimate, that Caitlyn felt like an intruder for a moment.
But she couldn't forget the reason she was there in the first place.
Caitlyn straightened her back and cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way Powder was looking at her with a suspicious look that seemed to pierce her. With tentative steps, she decided to take a seat on the opposite couch, giving the sisters some space.
“I wanted to talk about two things,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “They’re not necessarily related, but they’re both…uh… important.”
Vi tilted her head slightly in her direction, signaling that she was paying attention. Powder, on the other hand rested an elbow on the back of the sofa, looking at her skeptically.
“Start with the one that won’t make me want to kick anything,” Powder said in her usual annoyed tone, though Caitlyn noticed her fingers restlessly tapping.
Vi elbowed her in the side, hard enough to make Powder grunt, but without causing real pain.
“Pow, please”
Caitlyn exhaled slowly, never taking her eyes off the two of them.
“I think someone is following us” she said.
The silence that followed was almost tangible and painful to feel.
Vi immediately frowned, her expression becoming more alert. Her eyes fell over Caitlyn’s with a scary precision, and the woman thought for a brief moment that she was really watching her.
“Us?” asked Vi, her voice low but full of tension.
“You and me, at least,” Caitlyn confirmed, feeling a chill run down her spine just saying it out loud. “I’m not entirely sure, but… there is a man. He showed up in front of my parents’ house today, after I was leaving lunch with them and Jayce. He didn’t approach me, he didn’t make any moves, but he recognized me. He knew who I was, and more importantly… he knew who you are.”
Powder sat up immediately, as if propelled by a spring. Her expression, once relaxed and sarcastic, hardened in a matter of seconds. Caitlyn could see her eyes narrow, her hands ball into fists on her knees.
“What do you mean he knew who she was?” Powder asked, her voice higher than usual. Vi tensed at her sister’s tone, as if she could sense the anxiety emanating from her.
“I don’t know for sure,” Caitlyn admitted, remaining calm, even though the space in the room was becoming increasingly oppressive. “But he mentioned her name. And it wasn’t a coincidence. He seemed… to be waiting for us or for me at least.”
Powder bolted upright, unable to sit still.
“Why didn’t you start with that from the beginning?” she asked, her voice rising. “Why didn’t you just say there’s some lunatic out there that’s after Vi and might be following her?”
Vi sat up straight too.
“Pow, calm down,” she said, her voice firm but calm. “Caitlyn’s trying to help us...”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Powder yelled, turning to Vi. Caitlyn could see her hands shaking slightly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “This isn’t a fucking game. It’s… if anyone tries…”
She didn't finish the sentence, but Caitlyn didn't need her to. She could see the fear in Powder's eyes, the way her mind jumped from one catastrophic scenario to another. Vi, for her part, seemed to understand without words. She reached out for her sister, seeking contact, and Powder took her hand almost immediately, squeezing it tightly.
Vi's gesture seemed to do the trick, as Powder let out her pent-up breath after a few seconds, slowly decompressing. Caitlyn could see the agitation on her face, the way her cheeks were slightly flushed, and how her free hand was trembling barely perceptibly. It seemed like the only thing keeping her in check was Vi's presence, as if her sister were an anchor in the storm.
Powder fixed Caitlyn with her gaze then, and this time there was no trace of sarcasm or annoyance in her eyes. Just a cold, calculating determination that made Caitlyn feel like she was under a microscope.
“How close was he to you again?” she asked without preamble, her voice sharp as a knife.
Caitlyn blinked, surprised by how quickly Powder took control of the conversation. It wasn't the first time she'd seen this side of her, but she was always impressed by how quickly she could change her attitude when it came to protecting Vi.
“Not enough to make it seem like a direct threat,” she replied, “but he didn’t keep a safe distance either. He was close enough that I felt… watched. I’m sure he wanted exactly that”
Powder nodded, as if she had already anticipated that answer.
“And what else did he tell you?” she continued, her tone sharp and direct, as if she were interrogating a suspect.
Caitlyn inhaled slowly, trying to remember every detail. She knew Powder wouldn't tolerate any omissions, no matter how small.
“First, he greeted me, as if we’d known each other forever,” she said, frowning at the memory. “Then, as Jayce and I were leaving, she told me to give Vi his regards… from an old friend.”
Powder gritted her teeth so tightly that Caitlyn could almost hear the crunch. Her fingers tapped impatiently on her leg, as if she were counting the seconds before she could act. “What was he like? Full description, don’t leave anything out.”
Caitlyn shot a quick glance at Vi, but the young woman just remained silent. Vi was there, sitting on the couch, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. Her head was tilted slightly, as if she were trying to put pieces together in her mind. Her eyes remained fixed on a distant spot on the wall, and something in her expression told Caitlyn that she wasn't exactly present. It was as if she were listening, but also analyzing something only she could see.
“Tall, thin,” Caitlyn listed. “Dark hair, pale skin… honestly, he’s not someone who stands out much if you compare him to anyone else in Zaun.”
Powder swore softly under her breath, her gaze shifting to the floor. Caitlyn noticed her fist clench and unclench, as if she were struggling to stay calm. Her grip on Vi remained firm despite everything, and Caitlyn understood it was the best way for her to maintain her composure.
“Do you know him?” Caitlyn asked immediately, trying not to sound too anxious.
“Not exactly,” Powder replied with a grimace, as if the words tasted bitter. “But I’ve seen a strange man before, who matches that description.”
Caitlyn felt a chill run down her spine.
"Where?"
Powder looked at Vi then, and for a moment, and Caitlyn thought she was going to keep the information to herself. But finally, Powder spoke, albeit with some reluctance.
“Here at the bar,” she admitted. “Not always, but some nights. He just has a drink and leaves. He never talks to anyone, never gets into trouble. But… I've seen him around town, too. Walking down streets he shouldn't be on.”
Caitlyn felt the air grow heavier.
“Then it’s no coincidence.”
“No,” Powder confirmed, her eyes turning dark as she connected with hers. “It isn’t.”
“Any suggestions on what to do?” Caitlyn asked, her knee bobbing anxiously as she fiddled with the hem of her jacket.
Powder looked torn. Worry and fear were evident on her face, but so was her fierce determination. Her jaw clenched as her eyes instinctively shifted to Vi, who still maintained that calm, distant expression, as if this were all just a trivial matter. Powder couldn't understand how her sister could seem so unconcerned, and it only made her more frustrated.
“If it were up to me,” Powder said, her voice laden with unusual hardness, “I’d find that guy right now and give him a reason to stay the fucking away.”
Caitlyn watched the way Powder's hand balled into fist; tension etched into every muscle in her body. It wasn't an empty threat. Powder meant it, and Caitlyn couldn't help but feel a chill as she imagined what the woman would do if she set her mind to it.
“I don’t think that would help much,” Caitlyn chimed in cautiously, trying to remain calm. “It might make things worse.”
“Then, what do you propose, princess?” Powder snapped, her eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and anxiety. Each word seemed to come out like a whiplash, and Caitlyn felt the tension in the room rise once more.
Caitlyn didn't respond immediately. In her mind, the man's words still echoed, the way he'd looked at her. It was a feeling she couldn't shake, as if someone had drawn an invisible line around them.
Powder finally let go of her sister, sinking back onto the couch with an exasperated sigh. She seemed to be struggling to maintain control, but Caitlyn could see her fingers restlessly tapping the arm of the couch, as if she were counting the seconds before she could act.
Finally, Vi seemed to snap out of it. She turned her head toward Powder, her brow furrowed slightly, as if she were trying to figure out why they were so upset.
“I think you’re overreacting,” she said calmly, to Caitlyn and Powder’s surprise.
They both turned to look at her at the same time, disbelief etched on their faces.
Vi stretched out in her seat with a casualness that seemed out of place at the moment, crossing her arms behind her head as if the weight of the conversation didn't affect her in the slightest.
“Look at it this way,” she began “Yes, there’s a strange man who knows me by name and Caitlyn’s. But so what? He hasn’t attacked us, he hasn’t tried to do anything to us, he hasn’t even gotten close enough to be a real threat.”
Caitlyn frowned.
“But that doesn’t mean it can’t become a danger at any moment,” she insisted, her voice filled with concern.
“Exactly,” Powder chimed in, arms still crossed, her expression a mixture of frustration and gloom. “I’d rather act before something happens than regret it later.”
Vi shrugged, as if this was all a trivial discussion.
“Or you can relax and not let some weirdo ruin your day,” she said, with a slight smile that only seemed to exasperate her sister more.
“That’s no excuse for not taking precautions,” Powder growled, her voice thick with concern. Her eyes never left Vi, as if she were trying to decipher what was going through her sister’s mind.
Was she really that calm, or was she just pretending?
Vi sat up a little straighter, and for a brief moment, Caitlyn thought she saw something in her expression: a shadow of doubt, a flicker of unease that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. But before she could be sure, Vi had regained her nonchalant air.
“I’m not saying we should completely ignore him,” Vi admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. Her voice was calm, but there was an undertone of firmness that didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m just saying, so far, all this guy’s done is give Caitlyn a hard time, which is a real shit. But, is that enough to consider him a real threat?”
Caitlyn opened her mouth to answer, but stopped. She couldn't deny that Vi had a point, but something in her gut told her they shouldn't underestimate the situation. However, before she could articulate a response, Powder intervened.
“I don’t like this,” she muttered, staring at Vi, as if trying to see through her calm facade.
Vi tilted her head in her direction.
“Pow, please relax for a minute and think”
But her sister wasn't in the mood to be calmed. Powder glared at her, and for a moment, Caitlyn thought she might explode.
“No, Vi. Don’t tell me to calm down,” she said, her voice rising once more. “How can you be so relaxed about this? Don’t you realize what’s at stake?”
Vi sighed, shrugging with a casualness that seemed to exasperate Powder even more. “Because nothing real has happened” she replied, as if that were enough to justify her attitude.
“And when it happens?! What?!” Powder exclaimed, slamming her open palm on the table. The sound echoed around the room, making Caitlyn jump slightly. “What are we supposed to do when that asshole decides to do something?”
Caitlyn's heart leapt at Powder's reaction. She wasn't just angry for the sake of it. She was scared. Caitlyn could see it in her eyes, in the way her hands trembled slightly, in the way her voice broke at the end of her sentence.
“Powder…” Caitlyn tried to say, her tone seeking to calm the situation, but Powder ignored her completely.
“I can’t let anything happen to you, Vi,” Powder continued, her voice lower, more broken. “Not again.”
Vi frowned gently at those words, and for a moment, Caitlyn thought she saw her calm mask crack. It was only an instant, but it was enough to tell that Vi wasn't as confident as she pretended. Instead of showing weakness, though, Vi leaned forward, moving closer to her sister.
Vi placed a hand over Powder's, squeezing it gently. Her touch was firm but comforting, as if she were trying to convey that everything would be okay.
“Pow Pow,” she said, her voice low with a touch of tenderness she didn’t often use. “It’s okay. He can’t do anything”
Powder narrowed her eyes, her jaw clenched, but she didn't withdraw her hand. Caitlyn could see her fingers relaxing slightly under Vi's touch, as if some of the tension was dissipating. Still, her voice held firmness. "You can't guarantee that."
Vi sighed, leaning a little closer to her.
“No,” she admitted, with an honesty that surprised Caitlyn. “But I can promise you I’ll be more careful,” she offered, her voice filled with determination. “We can be more alert, take precautions, talk to each other and the rest, and make sure this guy doesn’t get too close. Vander might have a few ideas too. Is that enough for you?”
Powder stared at her, as if evaluating her words. For a moment, she looked like she was going to argue, but finally, she nodded, albeit reluctantly.
“Okay,” she murmured, her voice calmer but still thick with concern. “But if that guy comes near you, I’m not going to wait for him to do anything. Understand? I shot first, ask questions later”
Vi smiled slightly, her expression a mixture of affection and exasperation. “Understood,” she said, squeezing Powder’s hand one last time before letting go.
For Vi, the subject seemed closed.
But Caitlyn, who had remained silent, watched the scene closely whit a little anxiety. She couldn't help but notice how Vi truly believed that simply being cautious would be enough. That if they ignored the threat long enough, it would magically disappear. It was an optimistic, almost naive idea, and Caitlyn knew Powder thought so too. They both knew that threats didn't disappear just because someone chose not to pay attention to them.
Threats waited, they lurked, and when you least expected it, they struck.
So, when Vi relaxed back on the couch, her expression suggesting the matter was no longer a cause for concern, Caitlyn and Powder exchanged a glance. It was brief, barely a second, but in that instant, there was a silent understanding between them. No words were needed. No elaborate gestures were necessary. It was just a look, but there was an unspoken agreement within it: no matter what Vi said, no matter how hard she tried to downplay the situation, they weren't going to stand idly by.
Powder wasn't going to let anyone hurt her sister, and Caitlyn, even if she didn't say it out loud, felt the same. Vi was important to both of them, each in her own way, and that was enough to unite them, at least in this.
The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the sound of Vi shifting on the couch. It was she who finally spoke, her calmness contrasting with the tension in the air.
“So,” Vi said, leaning forward slightly, “what was the other topic you wanted to talk about, Cupcake?”
Caitlyn blinked, surprised by the question.
She'd been so focused on the threat of the mysterious man that she'd almost forgotten the other reason she'd come. She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. This was a sensitive topic, and she'd have to choose her words carefully.
She knew she couldn't mention what she'd actually gone to investigate with her parents. Powder had made it clear before, with a look that could cut through steel: Don't tell her anything. So instead, she focused on what she could offer.
“My father,” Caitlyn began, weighing each word, “offered medical treatment. For you, Vi.”
The atmosphere in the room changed immediately. Vi stood still, her expression neutral, but with a slight tension in her jaw that betrayed her discomfort. Powder, meanwhile, stiffened in her seat, as if hit by a wave of cold. Caitlyn noticed how her fingers gripped the edge of the sofa, as if she were trying to avoid saying anything. The distrust in Powder's eyes was palpable, and Caitlyn couldn't blame her.
She knew very well what the Kirammans represented to the eldest sister. And although Powder seemed to tolerate Caitlyn now, that didn't mean she had forgiven her family.
“Medical treatment,” Vi repeated, her tone revealing little. “For what exactly?”
Caitlyn exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of both sisters' expectations on her.
“Whatever you need,” she replied fast “I don’t know exactly what kind of care you might require, but my father is the chief physician at the central hospital. He has connections and resources. If there’s anything that can be done to help you… he can do it.”
Vi remained silent for a moment. She didn't move, her expression didn't change, but Caitlyn noticed how tightly her fingers gripped her cane.
“I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done” she finally said.
Caitlyn leaned forward a little.
“You can’t know that if you haven’t tried it”
Vi pressed her lips into a thin line.
“I’ve been to a couple of doctors before,” she said with a hint of resignation “and they all said the same thing: there’s not much they can do.”
Caitlyn frowned.
“When was the last time you checked with a professional?”
Vi took too long to answer “Years ago.”
“How many years?”
Vi looked away and Powder snorted from her spot.
“Too many” the eldest replied with some reluctance.
“It’s not a big deal” Vi replied, shrugging.
“Yes, it is” Caitlyn insisted firmly “It’s your health we talking about”
Powder said nothing, but the tension in her body spoke volumes. Though she hadn't spoken for or against the idea, her gaze flicked between Caitlyn and Vi hesitantly.
There was a part of her that wanted to reject the offer simply because it came from the Kirammans, because it was a living reminder of all the harm they'd caused, of everything Vi had lost. Every time she thought of the Kiramman family, she saw the image of that cold, distant woman who'd signed the order that ruined her sister's life. It was already hard to separate Caitlyn from that legacy, no matter how much Powder had come to tolerate her presence.
But there was also the other part of her… the one that wanted her sister to be okay. The one that had spent entire nights listening to her labored breathing, feeling her shake in her sleep from vertigo or debilitating headaches. The one that had wanted to scream in frustration when there was nothing she could do but hold her hand until the storm passed. That part of Powder, the one that loved Vi more than anything in the world, couldn't ignore the possibility that this was a real opportunity.
Powder crossed her arms, pressing them against her body more tightly than necessary. If she said no, if she closed the door to that chance, then it would still be the same as always: Vi depending on home remedies, half-baked solutions, a body that failed her at the most unexpected moments. But if she said yes…
If she said yes, what guarantee did she have that Piltover wouldn't betray them again?
Because that was the real fear.
Not that Vi found something better away from her. Not that she stopped needing her. But that she was offered something only to have it taken away from her later. Powder had seen how the world worked, how Piltover's promises always came with a hidden price. And she wasn't willing to pay it, not again.
Powder swallowed; her gaze fixed on her own hands.
She couldn't bear to see Vi hurt again.
Caitlyn had proven herself different, yes. But what about her family? And the entire system that had crushed them when they were children?
She looked at Vi then; and she saw her sister a bundle of doubt and fear, at odds with herself. She could see the fear in her gaze, in the way her eyes darted around erratically, trying to focus on a fixed point they could never find. Powder put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer in an attempt to calm her. But it didn't do much. Vi was still tense, as if trapped in an invisible cage.
“If nothing has changed after so many years, why bother now?” Vi tried to sound nonchalant, but the harshness in her tone gave her away. It was as if she were trying to convince herself that it wasn’t worth the effort, that there was no hope.
Caitlyn leaned a little closer to her.
“Because we could be wrong,” she said softly. “Because maybe there is something that can be done, but we won’t know until you try.”
Vi shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as if Caitlyn's words were forcing her to confront something she'd rather ignore. Powder watched her closely, noting how her hands tightened on her cane, how her breathing grew faster and shallower. It was as if she were on the verge of a breakdown, but trying to hold on through sheer force of will.
Powder took a breath before speaking, giving her sister time to calm down.
“What kind of treatment are we talking about exactly?”
“They’d have to do a full assessment first,” Caitlyn explained. “What I mean is, there’s no concrete answer yet, but my dad is willing to put all the resources necessary to find out.”
Powder narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “And what would he want in return?”
Caitlyn shook her head, with a firmness that surprised Powder.
“Nothing. This isn’t a trade, Powder. I don’t want Vi to have to pay for something she should have had from the start,” she exclaimed.
Powder bit the inside of her cheek, clearly still undecided. If there was even the slightest chance that Vi would get better…, did she have the right to deny it?
For her part, Caitlyn thought she might have pushed too hard.
She hadn't meant to, but seeing the chance to help Vi, to do something for her, she'd let herself go. But the words had come out too quickly, with too much hope, and now Vi seemed on the verge of a breakdown. Caitlyn could see it in the way her hands trembled slightly. In the worry written all over Powder's face.
It was as if the walls of the room were closing in around her, and Caitlyn felt suddenly guilty about it.
“Vi,” she called softly, leaning forward a little. The redhead seemed to tense a little more, but held her ground. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know the offer is there whenever you need it.”
Vi closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled slowly.
Caitlyn could see the conflict in her features, in the slight pressure she placed on her lips, as if she were trying to keep the words she didn't know how to say from coming out. It was as if she were caught in an internal battle, between the desire to believe things could get better and the fear that it would all go wrong again.
On the other hand, Powder also watched her silently, her heart beating wildly. She could feel the weight of the decision on her shoulders, but she knew she couldn't make it for Vi. Even if she wanted to, even if every fiber of her being screamed that she had to, that she had to remove her from any possibility of being hurt again, she couldn't be the one to choose.
Vi wasn't a little girl anymore. She knew that, she was trying to accept that. Her sister was a strong, independent woman, and Powder had to respect her, no matter how hard it was.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Caitlyn tried to assured her again, her voice firm but gentle.
Powder clenched her fists on her knees, feeling her nails dig into her palms. After a moment, she exhaled in resignation, as if she were letting go of some of the weight she'd been carrying inside.
“No matter what you decide,” Powder added, barely turning her head toward her sister, “I’ll be here, okay?”
Vi turned her head in her direction, something hard to decipher in her unfocused eyes. Something Caitlyn recognized as fear, but also relief. It was as if, in that moment, Vi was looking to Powder for a sign, for confirmation of something.
A brief silence fell between them, interrupted only by the distant murmur of the bar upstairs. Vi shifted her cane in her hands, clearly searching for the right words. But they weren't coming, and the tension in the room continued to grow, like a wave threatening to sweep them all away.
Finally, Vi let out a short, humorless laugh. It was a hollow sound, as if she were trying to lighten the mood, but didn't know how.
“I’m going to need some time to think about it” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Neither of them contradicted her.
Vi stood up from her seat fast, her hand automatically sliding down the back of the couch to guide her. It was a movement Caitlyn had seen before, but this time it seemed clumsier, more unsure. As if the weight of the conversation had left her reeling.
“For now… I better start to get ready” Vi said, her tone trying to sound casual but failing to hide the uncertainty.
Caitlyn and Powder watched her as she headed toward the door, each step seeming heavier than the last. When the door closed behind her, the silence in the room became almost oppressive.
Powder was the first to break it, crossing her arms and putting her weight on one leg.
“Well, congratulations, princess. You made my sister feel like a complete piece of shit in record time,” she exclaimed, before adding with cutting sarcasm, “Is that another one of your hidden talents?”
Caitlyn closed her eyes for a moment, mentally counting to ten before responding. She knew Powder was upset. She'd sort of expected it, but that didn't make the comment any less painful.
“No, that wasn’t the goal,” she replied calmly, interlacing her fingers in her lap. “I want to help her, Powder. Not make her feel worse.”
Powder snorted, her jaw clenching slightly.
“Yes, of course. Because everything that comes out of Piltover always has the best intentions, right?”
Caitlyn stared at her, trying to read beyond the hostility in her voice.
“Don’t blame me for wanting to give her a chance to get better.”
“I don’t blame you for that,” Powder replied, her tone lower but still tense. “I blame you for not knowing when to back down.”
Caitlyn felt a slight chill run down her spine. Because, in part, she was right. Perhaps she should have handled the conversation differently, with more tact, more patience.
The Kiramman girl exhaled softly and, with some effort, lowered her guard a little.
“I'm not perfect, I know that. But I'm not going to sit idly by when I know I can do something.”
Powder stared at her for a long moment, as if evaluating her words. Her expression didn't change much, but her shoulders relaxed slightly, a tiny gesture Caitlyn didn't miss.
“You’re as stubborn as a privileged white mule,” Powder muttered, rubbing her temple with one hand. “I don’t know how Vi puts up with you.”
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“I could say the same about you,” she replied, in a light but ironic tone.
They stared at each other for a couple of seconds. The atmosphere between them was still charged, but not as intense. Until Powder let out a laugh that was somewhere between amused and bitter, running a hand through her hair, messing up the bun she had tied.
“Look… I’m not saying I agree with this. I don’t like it. I don’t trust Piltover, your family, or anything that comes from there,” she exclaimed.
Caitlyn opened her mouth to respond, but Powder got in first.
“But…” Powder grimaced, as if the words were difficult to get out. “I’m not an idiot either. If Vi decides she wants to try, I’m not going to get in the way.”
Caitlyn felt a small knot form in her stomach. It wasn't a surrender, and it wasn't a complete acceptance, but considering who it was coming from, it was the closest thing to a truce she could hope for.
She looked at her seriously and nodded.
“That’s all I ask.”
Powder didn't respond, but shrugged nonchalantly before heading to the door. But then she paused for a moment, her hand resting on the frame as her gaze wandered to an indeterminate point in the room. Caitlyn watched her warily, noting the tension in her posture, the slight frown in her brow.
The woman seemed to be debating something.
A heavy silence settled between them until, finally, Powder snorted, barely turning in her direction with an apathetic expression.
“Saturday afternoon,” she blurted out.
Caitlyn blinked, confused.
"Sorry?"
Powder rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed at having to repeat herself.
“If you really want to continue your little pet project… stop by our workshop this Saturday.”
Caitlyn looked at her, still a little puzzled.
“Your… workshop? Are you inviting me to your workshop?”
Powder crossed her arms.
“Yes,” she said reluctantly. “We teach art classes to the neighborhood orphaned brats. It’s a disaster most of the time, but they like it. And sometimes they even learn something.”
Caitlyn fell silent, trying to process what she'd just heard. She hadn't expected an invitation from Powder, much less to something that was apparently important to her. Her mind reeled, trying to understand whether this was a joke, a trap, or, incredibly, a genuine gesture.
Powder noticed her surprise and exhaled impatiently.
“What? Isn’t that what you’re looking for? To understand our art better? To find inspiration or whatever else you’ve been telling Vi” she said, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “Maybe the brats can teach you something real for once and not whatever bullshit the universities from Piltover think art its.”
Caitlyn licked her lips, still trying to make sure this was real.
“Powder, I…”
“Don’t get excited,” Powder interrupted, raising a hand in a warning gesture. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”
Caitlyn almost smiled, but managed to stop it in time.
"I know."
Powder shrugged indifferently.
“Well, there’s the offer. If you want to come, come. If not, I don’t care.”
And without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked out the door, leaving Caitlyn alone in the room.
The woman stood there for a few seconds, processing what had just happened.
Powder. Had. Invited. Her. The words echoed in her mind, over and over again, as if she couldn't believe it. It certainly wasn't something she had anticipated. But as she sat there, in the quiet room of The Last Drop, she couldn't help but feel... intrigued.
A small but genuine smile spread across her lips. She couldn't deny it: the idea of seeing Powder in her element, surrounded by children and art, was fascinating. And, though she wouldn't admit it out loud, it was also a little amusing. After all, who would have thought that the fearsome and distrustful Powder would open the doors of her world to her, however reluctantly?