Chapter 14
Chapter XIV
Vi stood completely still.
Truly petrified, as if time itself had stopped around her. Her earphones, hanging precariously from her ear, still echoed those words she'd once thought impossible for her to hear.
Do you want to go out with me?
Each syllable resonated in her skull like a hammer blow, causing her lungs to compress under an invisible weight. The question floated through her mind, clear and direct. Vi felt her throat dry, her mind repeating it on an endless loop as she tried to process it.
The knife she was holding hovered in the air, its blade gleaming in the kitchen light like an absurd reminder of how mundane her day had been up to that point. Her fingers, usually so sure while cooking, trembled slightly around the handle. Something in her brain had stopped working—the connections between thought and movement had been severed like a bare wire, exposed to scrutiny.
Have a date with me?
The mental repetition of the question burned her insides. It was too simple. Too direct. Too... real. Caitlyn Kiramman didn't ask rhetorical questions. Every word that came out of her mouth was measured, intentional. And that meant...
"Vi..." Powder's voice hit her like a blow. "Why the fuck do you have that face?"
A few feet away from her, she could feel her sister's gaze from across the table, her work abandoned in front of her in favor of concentrating on Vi, trying to decipher what was the problem.
Vi opened her mouth.
Then closed it again, not knowing exactly what to answer.
Her tongue, always so quick with witty comebacks, had become a dead weight in her mouth. Heat surged up her neck in waves, a primal shame she didn't understand but that completely engulfed her.
In the alleys of Zaun, Vi knew every sound, every texture, every potential threat. She could sense an attack before it happened, dodging blows on pure instinct. But this... this was uncharted territory. A formless adversary she couldn't meet with fists or sarcasm. Because it wasn't really something that was against her—quite the opposite. It was a good thing. It supposed to me an amazing thing.
Caitlyn wanted to go out with her…
The idea was so absurd that she almost burst into hysterical laughter, but she suppressed it in favor of biting her lip with anxiety. It was as if the universe had decided to play the cruelest joke possible on her. Because Vi knew her place in the world—the tough girl from Zaun, the blind fighter, the burden Powder had carried since childhood. Not the person who received date invitations from Piltover heiresses. What did this mean exactly? Was it a date date? Was it just a casual outing? But how would a casual walking date now be different from the ones they'd done before? Was she imagining things? Or had Caitlyn really...?
Shit…
Her right hand moved erratically, placing the knife on the table with a dull click that sounded unnaturally loud. Every one of her senses was heightened—the smell of onions still lingering in the air, the rough texture of the wood beneath her fingertips, the metallic taste of panic in her mouth.
Why her?
Until that moment, until the Piltover artist said it out loud, Vi had never really stopped to consider the possibility that the woman might be attracted to her. She was Caitlyn, and she was just Vi, a nobody, someone of no real importance.
The scars on her knuckles and arms suddenly prickled. She unexpectedly remembered too many nights crawling through alleys, mired in her own misery and teenage depression, too many fights where the only thing that mattered was unleashing her rage and resentment. She remembered the feeling of pitying stares when people noticed her unfocused, aimless eyes for the first time. She remembered the dead weight she had been on Powder for years until she finally decided to clean up her life a bit.
People didn't notice Vi in a positive way. Not after everything she was, everything she stood for.
Her body was covered in scars, her hands were marked by years of senseless fighting, her vision was lost in shadows and unrecognizable silhouettes. She had nothing someone like Caitlyn could want.
And yet...
The tremble in Caitlyn's voice. That small hesitation that only someone who knew her so well could notice. Vi had listened—really listened—and recognized the courage it had taken for Caitlyn to ask that question. Caitlyn wouldn't do something like that without thinking. She wasn't someone who said things for the sake of saying them, she wasn't one to play with other people's feelings. Vi knew that, believe with every fiber of her being. She'd seen it in the way Caitlyn listened intently, in how she always found a way to understand even when Vi didn't know how to explain herself.
Her heart was beating so loudly in that moment she feared Caitlyn could hear it through the headphones. Each beat sent waves of something indescribable through her veins—fear, hope, terror, longing—a toxic mix that left her paralyzed.
A few more seconds passed in tense silence. And then Caitlyn's voice came through the phone again, a mixture of softness and uncertainty.
"Vi... are you still there?"
Caitlyn's voice cut through her like a red-hot knife, leaving a trail of sweet agony. Her lips parted before her brain could finish processing, and the word escaped like a gunshot:
"Yes!"
Too high. Too abrupt. Like a cornered animal reacting on instinct.
From the living room table, the creaking of the chair as it shifted betrayed Powder's growing discomfort. Vi could picture it perfectly—her brow furrowed, her fingers drumming on the wood, that protective, exasperated look only her older sister could master. She closed her eyes, feeling shame creep up her spine in fiery waves.
The silence that followed was so thick it was almost touchable. So thick that Caitlyn, on the other end of the line, broke the tension with a question that made Vi's stomach clench in embarrassment:
"Uh... 'yes' as in 'yes, you’re still there', or 'yes, you're willing to go out with me'?" she asked, her tone trying to sound light and joking, but underneath it all was a trace of obvious nervousness.
The attempt at humor didn't hide the barely perceptible tremor in her voice and Vi felt her nails involuntarily dig into the palm of her left hand. Every word that came out of her mouth afterward tasted like a mistake, but she couldn't stop herself.
She hadn't meant to sound like an idiot, but she clearly had.
"I..." Her voice sounded foreign, harsh from the sudden dryness in her throat. "Cait, I... Why? Why do you want that?"
The silence on the other end was different this time—charged, electric. Vi could almost imagine Caitlyn's expressions: her head shaking with concern, her hands fluttering in genuine surprise.
"Why not?" the reply came wrapped in a soft laugh, but Vi didn't need to see it to know that Caitlyn was playing with the hem of her clothing, that nervous tic that always betrayed her anxiety.
"It's... just... It's weird." The words stuck in her throat like pieces of broken glass.
"Good weird or bad weird?" Caitlyn's voice dropped an octave, revealing the vulnerability only Vi could find beneath Kiramman's composure.
Her heart was beating so hard this time she was afraid it was Powder who could hear it. Damn, Vi was sure all of Zaun could tell. An awkward laugh escaped her, a mix of panic and something warmer she didn't dare name, but which grew a little as she listened to Caitlyn.
"I think it's a good weird" she admitted.
There was a brief silence before Caitlyn spoke again, this time in a more serious, more honest tone.
"You are special to me, that’s why" she said softly.
Vi felt her heart skip a beat. It was as if someone had punched her in the stomach, not because of pain, but because her entire body had abruptly lost its breath.
Special. The word echoed in her skull like an echo in an empty cathedral. Vi felt the ground shift beneath her feet. No one used that word to describe her. Useful, maybe. Tough. Annoying. Never special.
“Vi,” Caitlyn continued, perhaps still sensing the uncertainty emanating from the girl through the call, “I would like to take you on a date because… because I want to spend more time with you. Because you make me feel things that no one else does, that no one else has achieved. And because you are special to me.”
Caitlyn said it so naturally, so sincerely, that Vi almost didn't know what to do or reply.
From the living room, the sound of a cup being abruptly placed on the table brought her back to reality. Powder was listening to Vi's every word, trying to identify what was going on, and the thought of her sister finding out what was happening made Vi want to sink to the floor in shame. But Caitlyn was still there, waiting, holding her breath on the other end of the line, completely oblivious to Vi's inner conflict or Powder's impatient curiosity.
"Special, huh?" Vi managed to utter, though her voice sounded unrecognizable even to her own ears.
"Yes. Very special."
Heat flooded her face, spreading to the tips of her ears. Vi ran a hand down the back of her neck, feeling the rough scars beneath her fingers—marks of a confusing past that now seemed to burn under her touch.
"Well..." she took a deep breath that failed to oxygenate her lungs, clearing her throat. "I guess I should say yes then."
“Yes as in 'yes, will you go out with me'?” Caitlyn repeated with amusement, though the slight uncertainty in her tone was still noticeable.
Caitlyn's pun this time brought an involuntary smile to Vi’s face, that silly smile that only appeared when she was with her. The nerves were still knotted in her stomach, but now they shared space with something lighter and bright.
"Yes, Cait. Yes, as in I would love to go out with you," She licked her lips a little before adding in a lower tone "And, You know... you're special to me too."
In the living room, the sound of a chair being violently scraped interrupted the moment. Powder stood up so forcefully that the table shook, but Vi couldn't worry about that anymore. Because on the other end of the line, Caitlyn Kiramman was laughing—a clear, genuine laugh that made Vi imagine how her face might light up.
And for the first time in years, Vi allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Vander was right about her. Maybe Vi deserved this moment of fragile happiness and sudden harmony in her life.
“So… how about I call you tomorrow and we work out the details?” Caitlyn asked, her voice lighter, her excitement almost tangible. “I could pick you up or meet you somewhere?”
Vi could barely focus on the question, her attention partially focused on the figure of her sister moving around the room with vibrant, suppressed energy.
“Uh, yeah… I mean, no, wait…” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to sound like a complete idiot. “I mean, we can meet up somewhere… I can go wherever you want.”
Caitlyn laughed again, although this time more softly.
“Okay, I’ll let you know where then. And… thanks, Vi”
Vi swallowed, feeling her chest tighten with something indescribable but positive.
“Yes… thanks to you too, cupcake.”
The click of the phone ending the call echoed like a gunshot in the silence of the kitchen. Vi let out a breath, her fingers still trembling around her earbuds. The air still smelled of chopped onions and hot oil, everyday aromas that clashed absurdly with the whirlwind of new feelings in her chest.
From the living room, the crunch of Powder's shoes as she walked made her heart leap, as her sister approached with that uneven gait she always took when she was thinking too much about something important. Not the confident walk she used in the workshop, but that shuffle Vi had recognized since they were children.
"So... a date, huh," Powder's voice came from her left, at the exact height of the oven where she always leaned while talking with Vi in the kitchen "A date with… Caitlyn"
In that instant, Vi wished she could see properly to know exactly what expression Powder was wearing, if her eyes were as critical as she felt her gaze was. But all Vi had were the sounds: the subtle crunch of Powder's fingers tapping the oven impatiently, the soft click of her tongue, the way her breathing became a little slower, more measured.
Vi felt her chest tighten, her eyes fixed on her hands on the counter.
“Pow…” she tried to test the waters, unsure of what she expected in response. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Vi thought she could hear a hint of amusement and a smile in her voice, but she couldn’t be sure. “It’s just a surprise.”
Surprise was an understatement to describe the bombshell Caitlyn had dropped that night.
Vi let out a choked and nervous laugh “If you're surprised, imagine how shocked I am.”
Powder was silent for a moment. A silence that seemed particularly long and dense to Vi, where she could imagine the complicated thought process running through her mind, perhaps more similar to her own than she cared to admit. Perhaps even struggling between several answers.
Vi held her breath, waiting for the fury to come.
But instead, Powder sighed.
“Do you really want to go out with her?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.
It wasn't the reproachful tone Vi had expected. It was... something else. Something that reminded her of the days after she'd woken up in the hospital, when Powder had spoken to her as if she was afraid she would break at any moment.
The girl exhaled slowly, letting her fingers find the edge of the wooden table again, rough under her fingertips.
“Yes,” she admitted, and it was incredibly liberating to say it out loud “I don’t know, Pow. But… when I talk to her, when I’m with her, I feel like…”
The words caught in her throat, inadequate to describe the mixture of peace and dizziness that Caitlyn provoked in her, but that she wanted to continue exploring.
Powder studied Vi for another long moment, eyes scanning every microexpression on her face. Finally, she nodded, as if she'd found the answer she was looking for in Vi's prolonged silence and uncertainty.
“Well… This certainly destroys all your nonsense about how you’re not worth it and no one would notice you, don’t you think?” she then exclaimed in a light, almost joking tone.
Vi looked away and snorted.
“I didn’t say that…”
“It was pretty close,” Powder leaned closer, her voice softer than before. “And I think Caitlyn just proved you wrong.”
Vi smiled.
“Was I the only one wrong, though?”
Powder laughed, pushing her out of the way with a push. “I won’t even deign to answer that.”
The older girl took the knife and continued chopping the vegetables more quickly, leaving Vi with little else to do but go to the table and sit down, tentatively checking out the pieces Powder had been working with.
“Well,” Powder continued with a hint of mockery, “I suppose I’ll have to behave myself to Miss Kiramman from now on.” A calculated pause, then, “Unless she hurts you.”
“Powder…”
“If she hurts you,” her sister repeated, and Vi could hear the crack of her knuckles as she clenched her fists, “I’ll tear out those blue eyes you love so much and bury her alive in the gardens of her cursed mansion.”
Vi's laughter burst out before she could stop it—a nervous laugh that shook her shoulders and blurred her vision for a moment, allowing herself to release the pent-up nerves she'd been holding back. "Gods, you're so dramatic…"
While squeezing her eyes between her fingers, Vi heard the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing, followed by the rustle of clothes as Powder moved toward the stove.
"Someone has to be the responsible one, since you're too busy blushing like a schoolgirl," she exclaimed.
Vi reached for a loose nut on the table and began to play with it in her hands while she pondered what had happened. She turned to where she thought her sister was, feeling the linoleum floor beneath her bare feet and making out Powder’s blurry figure moving in the kitchen.
"Hey, Pow..." Vi muttered, feeling like she should say something more.
Powder stopped, without turning around. The unspoken words where enough for Powder to understand.
"Just... be careful, okay?" Powder's voice sounded strangely vulnerable without the usual filter of sarcasm. "I don't want..." A vague hand gesture. "You know."
Vi felt something warm and heavy settle in her throat. They weren't just words of warning—it was the ghost of all the years Powder had cared for her, protected her, carried her, now manifesting between them with apprehension. The fear that now someone else might hurt her in a different and deeper way.
"I will," she promised, and for the first time since the conversation began, her voice sounded firm and confident, unwavering. "But... it's Caitlyn, you know?"
The silence lasted exactly three seconds, which Vi mentally counted, before Powder replied with a sigh that seemed to come from deep within:
"Yes. It's Caitlyn," she conceded. She placed a pair of glasses on the table. "I guess that have to mean something."
The distinctive click of bottle caps being opened and the scent of juice in the air made Vi's shoulders relax. She reached for where she guessed her glass would be, and Powder's fingers briefly brushed against hers as she handed it to her. That fleeting touch spoke volumes than any speech could have.
As the taste of fresh juice filled her mouth, Vi allowed a shy smile to spread across her lips. The future remained unknown, but for the first time in a long time, that uncertainty was accompanied by a familiar warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with fear.
::::::
The sound of impacts echoed like gunfire in the nearly empty gym. Vi felt the bandages stick to her sweaty knuckles, each blow sending a familiar, pleasant pain through her forearms. But not even the burning in her muscles could distract her from the turmoil in her chest.
Three hours and forty-two minutes.
The obsessive countdown had been going on in her head all day. Three hours and forty-two minutes until she could meet Caitlyn on the bridge. Until everything changed. Or broke.
"Whew!" Loris snorted as an unexpected hook caught him off guard, knocking him back a few steps "Shit, Vi. What did those gloves do to you to deserve this?"
Vi didn't respond. Her labored breathing filled the space between blows. Right-jab-uppercut-duck. A perfect combination that made Loris's gloves tremble. Each movement was more aggressive than the last, as if she could strike out at the uncertainty that consumed her.
"You're fighting like your little princess from Piltover is going to evaluate you on this," Loris commented between gasps.
The name alone was like a punch under the rib. Vi missed the next blow by an inch, feeling the air move between her knuckles and the glove.
"Shut up," she growled without conviction.
Loris took the opportunity to lower his gloves, rubbing his aching forearms. "Look, if you're feeling that bad, cancel. Tell your girl--"
"No!" The answer came out too quickly, too loudly. Vi felt sweat trickling down her back beneath her sticky T-shirt "I'm not canceling anything"
Loris stood still, and Vi could picture him with that "you're-getting-in-trouble" look she knew all too well. "Then relax. Because if you continue being this tense, you're going to accidentally break one of your poor girl's bones."
Vi let out a short, dry laugh, running a hand over her face. The smell of leather and sweat was almost overwhelming. "It's not funny."
"It is a little, yes," Loris leaned closer, and Vi felt the weight of his hand on her shoulder. "Listen, how many times have I seen you fall to this filthy floor after a workout with Sevika and get back up like nothing happened?"
Vi frowned. "What does it have to do with--?"
"If you can survive Sevika’s rage training regime, you can survive a simple date, kid."
The punch he landed on her shoulder was playful, but enough to send her reeling. Vi shoved him with her shoulder, feeling a rebellious smile creeping in despite herself.
"I hate it when you're right," she muttered, stretching her fingers inside the dirty bandages.
"Meh, that’s your problem, not mine” Loris picked up a water bottle from the floor and tossed it to her. Vi caught it reflexively, the plastic cold against her burning palms. "Now drink something before you get dehydrated. You don't want to arrive at your date smelling like the gym and dead on your feet, do you?"
Vi opened the bottle with her teeth, spitting the cap onto the floor. The water burned as it ran down her dry throat. Each sip reminded her that time was still passing. Three hours and twenty-eight minutes.
"What if...?" The question slipped out before she could stop it. "What if everything goes wrong, man?"
Loris was silent long enough for Vi to regret speaking. When he answered, his voice was unusually gentle: "Then you'll come here, beat the shit out of me, and I'll say 'I told you so' while I buy you a beer."
Vi let out a genuine laugh this time, the sound bouncing off the metal walls of the gym. "You don't have to be a jerk about this, you know"
"That's what you need sometimes" Loris picked up the gloves from the floor. "One more round and I'll let you go get ready. Unless you'd rather arrive smelling like wet dog"
Vi launched herself at him without warning, a low kick that Loris barely managed to block with his gloves. The impact resonated throughout the gym.
"You son of a--!" Loris stepped back, laughing. "Good, that's how I like it! At least you're focused now."
Vi smiled, feeling for the first time in hours that her body and mind were in sync. Every hit, every block, every drop of sweat was a reminder: This is what I know how to do. This is what I'm good at.
But when the clock on the wall struck five, the sound of the mechanism was unmistakable, Vi felt the knot return to her stomach. Two hours and fifty-three minutes.
Loris must have noticed the change, because he dropped his gloves for good. "That's it. Enough for today."
Vi wanted to protest, but her arms were burning and her legs were trembling slightly from the effort.
"You're not doing me a favor," she muttered, unwinding the bandages with fingers that suddenly seemed clumsy.
"It's not a favor." Loris tossed her a clean towel. "It's common sense. Go home, shower, and... what do Pilties do on dates? Do they wear fancy suits? Do they put on perfume?"
Vi imagined Caitlyn for a second in one of those blue dresses that probably cost more than the entire gym and its machines, with the smell of jasmine and paint that always surrounded her. The image was so vivid she could almost see her.
"Fuck off," she replied, but without force, hiding her burning face in the towel.
Loris laughed as she gathered her things. "I'll meet you here at midnight for the 'I told you so' session."
Vi threw the wet towel at him, which Loris easily dodged. The man let out an amused laugh before crossing his arms, and Vi could immediately discern the change in his mood.
"Look, before you go, there's something we need to talk about," he said.
Vi tensed slightly. "Is this what I asked you to investigate?"
Loris nodded, going to sit on one of the benches. Vi followed him with some reluctance.
"I've talked to several people over the last few days, snooping around in places we usually don't want to poke our noses into without good reason," Loris explained. "And there are rumors... nothing concrete, but enough to make me think this isn't just your paranoia speaking like I initially thought."
Vi narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to him. "There's really someone following me, then?"
Loris ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he wasn't sure how to say something without sounding alarmist. "Let's just say there are some people in Zaun who have noticed strange movements, people asking questions about you, about where you are, what you're doing. About you and your family. They're not your typical curious people. They're someone who knows how to move without leaving a trace, which is a tad worrying."
Vi felt a knot tighten in her stomach. It wasn't a surprise, not really. She'd felt that presence in the shadows, that feeling of being watched, even when Zaun enveloped her in its usual chaos. Long before Caitlyn had even mentioned it or Powder had gotten upset, but she'd tried to let it go thinking it was just her imagination.
It took a great deal of restraint to keep from reacting negatively the night Powder, Caitlyn, and her talked about it. It was enough to know that her sister was about to lose her temper.
"Any idea who that might be?" she asked.
Loris shook his head.
"Not yet, but I'll tell you as soon as I have something more concrete. In the meantime, kid, you should tell someone else. Vander, maybe."
Vi immediately shook her head, her jaw clenching. "No. I'm not going to drag anyone into this without knowing exactly what's going on."
“From what you told me the other day, I think it's too late for that,” Loris responded sarcastically.
“I’m sure I can handle it,” Vi insisted stubbornly. “Maybe it’s not as bad as we might be thinking. Just keep me posted, okay? I’ll think on something”
Loris watched her silently for a few seconds, then sighed.
"I knew you'd say that. Just... promise me you'll be careful. Don't let this blind you—any more than you already are, anyway"
Vi smiled wryly. "Ha ha. Very funny."
"Just take care of yourself, kid. And if you notice anything strange, let me know, and don't hesitate to tell the others either. I'll talk to the boss about putting a couple more cameras around the gym as well." By this point, Loris seemed to be thinking out loud "Anyhow, you don't have to do it alone."
Vi took a breath and nodded slowly. She knew the right thing to do was tell someone, but she couldn't allow this problem to become an additional burden. If she could find a way to resolve this on her own without worrying anyone else, she would. She knew it would be complicated, but she had to at least try.
She could defense herself.
"Thank you, Loris."
He lightly punched her arm before standing up.
"Go now. Try to relax, enjoy your evening" the man exclaimed.
The sound of his footsteps fading away was replaced by the hissing of pipes in the walls and the rapid beating of her own heart.
Alone in the ring, Vi let her shoulders slump for the first time in hours. Her palms were raw beneath the wraps, but the pain was a relief compared to the anxiety that flooded her again now that she'd stopped moving.
Two hours and forty-six minutes.
The walk home was a blur of familiar sounds—the shouts of vendors, the clatter of overhead trains, the smell of fried food and chemicals that always wafted through Zaun. But for the first time in years, Vi wasn't consciously registering every detail as a potential threat. Her mind was elsewhere, on a bridge between two worlds, in blue eyes she'd never seen but felt she could describe perfectly.
When the door to her apartment closed behind her, the weight of what she was about to do hit her full force. She leaned against the wall, feeling the cold concrete through her wet T-shirt.
"Are you hyperventilating, or is it just my imagination?" Powder's voice came from somewhere to her right, laced with a mix of concern and sarcasm.
Vi closed her eyes. "Shut up"
"You shut up," Powder retorted. Vi heard the sound of footsteps approaching, then the creak of the fridge opening. "Here. Drink this before you pass out and ruin your big date"
The cold bottle Powder pressed into her hand bore the rough seal that identified Vander's non-alcoholic homebrew. Vi opened it with a jerk, letting the bitter liquid burn her throat.
"You know," Powder continued, her voice now closer, "if someone had told me a year ago that my sister would be nervous about a date..."
Vi could hear the smile in her voice. "Shut your fucking mouth"
"What are you going to wear? Your sweatshirt with holes or the other sweatshirt with blood stains?"
Vi threw a blind punch at her, which Powder dodged with a laugh. But even through the embarrassment, there was something comforting in the familiarity of the ritual. Powder annoyed her, Vi pretended to be angry, and the world kept turning calmly and steadily.
"I'm going to take a shower," Vi announced, pushing off the wall. "And if you're still here when I get out, I'll drown you in the shower."
Powder burst out laughing. "That’s a promise, not threat."
Still smiling, Vi locked herself in the bathroom. The hot water burned her skin, but Vi let the pain wash over her thoughts. Every drop that trickled down her scars, every sore muscle from training, every second that passed brought her closer to that moment. To Caitlyn waiting for her on the bridge. To the possibility of something she didn't even dare name.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, enveloped in a cloud of steam and with her skin slightly flushed, she noticed something unusual. The smell of new fabric and... was it lavender?
"Powder?" she called, wrinkling her nose.
"In your bed" her sister answered from the room. "Don't kill me yet"
Vi fumbled her way to her bedroom, where her fingers found something soft and carefully folded on the bed. A shirt. Not her usual rough cotton, but a finer fabric with buttons.
"What is this?" she asked, running her fingers over the unfamiliar texture.
"A miracle" Powder murmured from the doorway. "I managed to keep it from smelling like Zaun. Enjoy it."
Vi held the garment with a mixture of wonder and terror. "Where...?"
"I asked Ekko to pick something up at the Floating Market. It's not one of those fancy Piltover suits, but..." An audible shrug. "At least you won't look like a thug for one night"
Vi wanted to protest, to scoff, to say something that would cut through the emotional tension filling the room. But instead, she felt something hot and heavy in her throat.
"Pow Pow..."
"Save it" the other woman said as she walked away, also holding back the emotion in her voice. "And hurry. It's almost seven."
Vi dressed with slow, careful movements, as if she were handling dangerous explosives. The fabric brushed her skin in a strange way, too soft, too clean. When she finished, she reached for the nightstand, where she knew Powder would have left something else.
The small bottle was there, just as she'd imagined. She carefully uncorked it, inhaling the scent, equally familiar and foreign. She'd rarely worn perfume in her life but she supposes it was a special occasion. She applied just a dab to her wrists, as she'd seen the women of Piltover do on the shopping streets a couple of times.
One hour and twelve minutes.
Time no longer seemed to move forward, but in tight circles around her chest. But for the first time in days, Vi felt she could breathe through the nervousness. There was no more training to do, no more questions to ask herself. Only the moment arriving, unstoppable as a punch the face.
Vi stood in the middle of her room, feeling the strange texture of the shirt against her skin. Her fingers twitched slightly at the hem as she took a deep breath. Everything about her seemed caught in a constant state of tension, like a string stretched too far. Her right foot tapped the floor, a nervous twitch she couldn't control.
In the living room, Powder cleared her throat.
"Are you still standing there like an idiot?" she asked, her tone intended to sound mocking, but betraying her own unease.
Vi frowned. "I'm just... processing."
"Uh-huh. Processing how to get out the door without panicking. I get it."
Vi growled, but she couldn't argue. Her stomach was in knots, and every minute that passed felt like a countdown to the unknown. Because that was what scared her the most, wasn't it? Not knowing what came next. Not knowing if she was reading the signs correctly, if Caitlyn really saw her the way she wanted to believe. If she was worthy of someone like her.
She ran a hand over the back of her neck, the warmth still present on her skin from the shower. She could smell the faint scent of the perfume Powder had gotten her, a soft, almost imperceptible fragrance. Suddenly, it seemed like an overly ostentatious gesture, as if she were trying too hard, as if it were obvious she was doing something outside her comfort zone. Was it too much? Could it be obvious she was so nervous she felt she might run away at any moment?
"Vi," Powder's voice softened, and that snapped her out of her spiral of thoughts. "Caitlyn asked you out. You. Not the image you have of yourself in your head, not the bully from Zaun, not the girl who thinks she's not worth it. She wants you."
Vi swallowed. "I don't know, Pow. What if it's a mistake? What if it's just—"
"If it were a mistake, you wouldn't be here, dressed like this, smelling like someone who knows what they're doing."
Vi chuckled. "But I don't know what I'm doing."
Powder shrugged. "Well, neither does fancy pants. So you're even."
The comment made her smile, though the weight on her chest didn't completely disappear. Her cell phone vibrated softly in her pocket, telling her there were thirty minutes left. Thirty minutes until she met Caitlyn on the bridge. Thirty minutes until she had to face whatever this was.
She turned slowly toward the door, and although she couldn't see Powder's expression clearly, she could make out her sister leaning against the frame, arms crossed.
"Good luck, sis," Powder said, her tone more serious than Vi expected. "And please, try not to trip along the way"
Vi snorted. "Thanks for the trust."
She stepped outside before her sister could respond, feeling like every step she took brought her closer to something she wasn't sure she could handle. But she kept walking, her cane guiding her safely ahead of her, because the thought that Caitlyn was already on her way, waiting for her, made all her fear worth it.
The walk to the bridge was a whirlwind of sensations. Vi felt her pulse racing, her shirt brushing against her skin as a constant reminder of how different this night was. Although she knew every crack, every uneven paving stone along the path to the city line, this time she moved forward cautiously, as if the ground could disappear beneath her feet at any moment.
Zaun's voices formed a distant chorus around her: raucous laughter that burst like rockets, whispered conversations that slipped through the shadows, the constant clatter of the skytrains overhead. But Vi could barely focus on anything but the weight of the phone in her pocket and that knot of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, so intense it almost hurt.
When she finally reached the bridge, the night wind greeted her with a cold whisper that seeped beneath her clothes. She gripped the metal railing, feeling the coolness of the steel soothe her sweaty palms. The constant flow of people around her was a mosaic of sounds and smells: expensive perfumes mingled with the earthy scent of Zaun, heels clicking alongside heavy boots. A coming and going of figures that she could barely distinguish between shadows and light.
Her fingers unconsciously drummed against the metal as she waited, the accelerated rhythm betraying her anxiety. Each minute stretched like a piece of chewing gum, elastic and endless.
Then she heard it.
Distinct footsteps made their way through the crowd. Firm, measured, unmistakable. Vi unconsciously held her breath. The air around her changed, taking on that unique scent that could only belong to Caitlyn: fresh paint on a newly stretched canvas, wild jasmine.
Before she could formulate a witty line, before her brain could form a coherent thought, Caitlyn's voice cut through the tension inside her:
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long"
Something inside Vi crumbled and rebuilt at the same time. All the nervousness, all the anxiety built up throughout the day dissolved like sugar in hot water. A sigh she hadn't known she'd been holding escaped her lips as a genuine smile—shaky at first, then increasingly confident—lit up her face.
"Nah," she replied, her voice sounding steadier than it actually felt. "Right on time."
The world around them seemed to have vanished, reduced to only this space between them, this moment perfectly balanced on the edge of two cities, two lives. The bridge, the people, the sounds of the night—everything became irrelevant. Only the warmth of Caitlyn's presence nearby mattered, the sound of her breathing, the unspoken promise of what was to come.
::::::
Caitlyn guided Vi through the streets of Piltover, her hand intertwined with hers. Caitlyn's long, dexterous fingers, accustomed to the brushes and pencils of her creations, intertwined with Vi's scarred knuckles, marked by countless lifelong blows and workouts at the gym. Every step on Piltover's cobblestone streets made Vi feel the weight of a hundred invisible gazes, but the warmth of Caitlyn's palm against hers was an anchor amidst the unfamiliar golden landscape. Night enveloped the city in its characteristic glow, the lanterns coming on one by one as the bustle began to subside.
Caitlyn had spent sleepless nights planning this moment. Every detail had been thought through with the same care she put into her job: the route to avoid crowded areas, the time the lanterns began to light up to create an intimate atmosphere, even the exact pressure with which she should hold Vi's hand to guide her without seeming condescending. She wanted this evening to be perfect, but most of all, she wanted Vi to feel like she belonged here, by her side, without having to change a bit about herself.
"We're here," Caitlyn whispered, bringing Vi's hand to her chest, where her heart was beating with a rapid cadence she hoped the other woman wouldn't perceive.
She noticed Vi's shoulders lose some of their usual tension under her touch, her breathing deepen as she recognizes the place.
The art gallery felt different at night. The dim lights traced golden paths between the sculptures, transforming each work into a mysterious silhouette. Jayce had agreed to lock the place with a knowing wink, ensuring that the silence and intimacy weren't interrupted by strangers. And now the space belonged to them alone, a temple of silence and possibility.
"It feels... different," Vi murmured, her raspy voice laden with a perception that went beyond limited vision. Her head tilted slightly, as if she could hear the shifting echo between the now-empty walls.
Caitlyn led her to the center of the room, where moonlight filtered through the circular skylight. "I wanted this night to be special," she confessed, allowing a hint of vulnerability to creep into her voice for the first time that night. "Not just another corner of Piltover, but... a place that was ours."
"Ours?" Vi's question was laced with something that made Caitlyn's heart leap—not skepticism, but a fragile hope that barely dared to breathe.
Caitlyn's fingers gently tightened around Vi's.
"These last few days I've been working harder than ever. And as I did," she began to explain, tracing circles with her thumb over the other woman's rough skin, "I saw the bench where you sat that day you came here the second time, the corner where you leaned against it to listen to me explain that horrible abstract painting..."
Vi remembered that day, almost at the beginning of their exploratory escapades. Caitlyn had wanted to show her a bit of her world as well, for Vi to learn more about Piltover just as she was learning about Zaun. Vi had agreed to return to the city just that one time, even though she felt insecure and reluctant to expose herself to the ostentatious streets and the pretensions of its inhabitants. But, without needing to know much more about Piltover, Vi could say without a doubt that her favorite place would always be Caitlyn's gallery, simply because it was hers.
A small smile appeared on Caitlyn's lips as she continues.
"You were particularly patient with me even though I'm sure I bored you with my pointless chatter," she exclaimed.
Vi shrugged.
“It was nothing. I like your voice,” she admitted as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Caitlyn laughed, feeling her cheeks flush. “Well, that does relieve me,” she joked. “Anyway, even though I didn’t understand it at the time, that day this stopped being my gallery, you know? It became the place where I learned to really see you.”
Vi opened her mouth as if to speak, but the words caught in her throat. The weight of Caitlyn's confession fell on her shoulders with devastating softness. The weight of her nerves was still weighing on her mind, but somehow, just being here, with Caitlyn by her side, made everything seem less overwhelming.
"Tell me," Caitlyn said, her voice dropping to a more intimate register as shadows played over the curves of her smile, "do you have any idea what kind of date I've planned for us?"
Vi tilted her head, allowing herself a glimpse of her usual sarcastic humor for the first time that evening.
"If it's one where I might stumble upon something expensive and broke it, then yes."
Caitlyn's laughter was a clear sound that reverberated between the gallery walls, so genuine it made Vi's chest expand with an unfamiliar warmth.
"Well, you know if you do stumble..." Caitlyn took a step closer, until Vi could feel her warm breath against her cheek, "...I'll catch you." Her words fell like a promise in the space between them. "You can close your eyes, fall into me and I'll catch you no matter what"
The world stopped for a moment. Vi felt each syllable resonate in her sternum, Caitlyn's words echoing in corners of her soul she thought were buried beneath layers of scars and old wounds. It was too accurate a metaphor, too aware of all the times Vi had fallen—literally and figuratively—and Caitlyn had been there, offering a hand, a support, a nonjudgmental gaze.
The lump in her throat made it hard to breathe. No one had ever spoken to her like that before, with a certainty that left no room for doubt. As if catching her was the most natural thing in the world, as if every fall Vi took was simply an excuse for Caitlyn to prove she wouldn't let go.
"Come here," Caitlyn murmured, gently tugging at her now sweaty hand, "I want to show you something."
And Vi, whose instinct had always been to fight against any restriction, whose first reaction to danger was to tense and counterattack, allowed herself to be guided without resistance.
Caitlyn led her down the gallery with measured steps, through hallways Vi vaguely remembered, until they stopped in front of a door at the end. Vi tilted her head curiously.
"This place isn't usually open to the public," Caitlyn explained, gently turning the knob. "It's my personal space"
The door opened with a soft creak, and before Caitlyn could say anything else, Vi sensed the change in the atmosphere. The air was filled with a subtle scent of oil, wood, and metal, the unmistakable hallmark of a studio where creativity flourished without restraint.
Caitlyn gently guided her inside, releasing her hand only to close the door behind them.
"I want you to see what I've been doing these days. All your hard work getting me around Zaun has finally paid off." Although her voice sounded confident, Caitlyn felt a certain apprehension inside, suddenly feeling more exposed and vulnerable.
Vi let her hand trail through the air until it touched the edge of a large, cold, firm surface. It wasn't smooth: it had indentations, ridges, areas where the material rippled like scarred skin, and she could see the explosion of color blending like watercolors before her. It wasn't framed and still had the fresh texture of dried paint beneath her fingertips, as if a new coat had been recently applied.
"You can touch it" Caitlyn said softly, as if afraid of breaking the magic of the moment. "The textures... they're there on purpose."
Vi needed no further invitation. She ran her fingers over the surface, feeling the boldly etched reliefs, the thick strokes, and the spaces where the paint seemed to have been applied with almost frenetic energy.
"This is the piece I made in the midst of my first creative fit in years," Caitlyn confessed, her voice more vulnerable than Vi had heard before. "I couldn't stop. It was like something inside me demanded to come out, like every thought, every emotion, needed to be captured here before it evaporated"
Vi let her fingertips translate the secrets of the work, feeling the intensity of each brushstroke. She didn't need to see to understand that Caitlyn had put her soul into this.
"It's strong," Vi murmured, her fingers still tracing the outline of the painting. "Intense. Like everything in you is screaming and at the same time... seeking calm."
Caitlyn inhaled sharply. She hadn't expected Vi to be able to perceive so much with just a touch, but there she was, deciphering what had taken her so long to put into words.
“It’s cool, but unlike Pow or Ekko’s work,” Vi continued, her hands still exploring the large piece of metal while her eyes tried to separate the colors and shapes without much success. “It’s alive.”
Caitlyn smiled, feeling her chest tighten at Vi's sincerity.
"I wanted you to feel it," she confessed. "For my world to speak to yours"
Vi lowered her hand slowly, turning her face in her direction with a small smile. "It does. And it's beautiful."
The silence between them was comfortable, laden with meaning neither of them needed to express aloud. Caitlyn leaned a little closer, letting Vi's warmth envelop her.
"There's more," she whispered, her smile barely perceptible. "If you want to explore further."
Vi took her hand again. "Show me"
Vi ran her fingers over each work with an almost reverential patience. Caitlyn watched her silently, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't sure what she expected—perhaps some comment that there were too many, that she was overreacting, that she'd let her obsession take over. But Vi never said any of that.
From the first to the last, Vi took her time with each piece, exploring each stroke with a concentration that seemed almost meditative. Her hands read the works as if they were words written in a language only she could understand. She leaned in slightly when she found a new texture, going over the thickest brushstrokes with her thumbs, as if absorbing something beyond the painting itself.
Caitlyn hugged herself as she looked at Vi, feeling the heat rise up her neck. She'd spent days in this very studio, pouring everything she felt into every stroke, every color choice, not really knowing if it all made sense or if she was just getting lost in her own head. But now, watching Vi so intently, she understood that what she'd done had a purpose. At least for Vi. And that what’s mattered for now.
Time slipped by without her even noticing. She didn't know how long they'd been there, but when Vi finally removed her hands from the last piece and let out a soft exhalation with a satisfied smile, Caitlyn felt the air in the room become lighter.
"Are you hungry?" she asked softly, breaking the silence, not wanting to disrupt the intimacy of the moment.
Vi turned her head towards her and nodded with a smile.
Caitlyn led her to a table in the center of the studio, where she'd laid out the food she'd pre-ordered. Simple dishes, nothing pretentious, but carefully chosen with something Vi would enjoy without feeling out of place.
They sat across from each other, the dim studio lighting casting soft shadows across their faces. Caitlyn scooped some food onto Vi's plate, watching as she found the edge with her hand before confidently taking the cutlery.
The conversation flowed with impressive ease, as always, but this time there was something more intimate about the atmosphere. Vi ate calmly, although somewhat messily making Caitlyn laugh. Occasionally, Vi lifted her head and smiled faintly as she listened to Caitlyn, paying endless attention to her stories of her youth.
Time in the studio become malleable, slipping through her fingers like warm sand. Caitlyn wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting together, but it didn't matter. The food had been set aside after a while, forgotten amid shared words and comfortable silences.
At a moment, Caitlyn discovered that Vi was beside her, closer than she had been all night. The heat from her body radiated across the short distance between them, and Caitlyn could hear her slow breathing, feel the slight tension in her shoulders as if she were struggling with something inside.
Then Vi stopped talking.
Caitlyn turned her head, meeting those eyes fixed on her, the ones that always seemed to look beyond the obvious. But this time, there was nothing beyond. Only her. Vi saw nothing, and yet, Caitlyn felt like she was being examined in a way she'd never experienced before.
Her own breathing became shallower, her chest rising and falling with a faster rhythm. Vi didn't look away, though Caitlyn knew she couldn't see her in the most traditional sense. And yet, the intensity in that gaze was palpable, something that rooted her to the spot, unable to move, unable to even blink.
Vi raised a hand, hesitantly.
Her fingers trembled slightly in the air, doubt hanging between them like a thread about to snap. Caitlyn didn't move. She didn't want to break the moment, didn't want to do anything that would push away that hand that, for reasons she didn't fully understand, seemed to be searching for something in her.
“Can I…?” Vi sounded hesitant and Caitlyn understood all at once.
“Yes”
And next, with exquisite slowness, Vi touched her face.
Vi's rough knuckles first brushed Caitlyn's cheek in tactile acknowledgment, as if she doubted the moment was real. Then her fingers began a slow, reverent map: the angular line of her jaw, the high arch of her cheekbones, the imperfect curve of her nose. Each touch was a silent question that Caitlyn answered with a steady breath, allowing herself to be explored like untouched territory.
She closed her eyes without thinking, letting the touch envelop her, letting Vi discover her in her own way. Every caress was a silent question, every touch an answer Caitlyn didn't know how to give except by staying still, breathing in the same ragged rhythm as Vi.
When Vi's thumbs traced the shape of her lips, Caitlyn exhaled a sigh that had been building in her chest for weeks. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and in her mind, the question hung in the air, unspoken: Is this what I think it is?
“I’ve never… done this before,” Vi confessed, her voice barely a whisper between them.
The fingers holding Caitlyn's face trembled slightly.
“What do you mean?” Caitlyn asked, although she already knew.
Vi exhaled softly.
“This.” Her thumb traced a tentative path along her jawline, drawing uncertain circles. “Being this close to someone.”
Caitlyn felt the heat rise to her ears. Vi's contradiction—her brave clumsiness, her strength turned into vulnerability—smoldered inside her. With a deliberately slow movement, she covered Vi's hand with her own and turned her face until her breath warmed her open palm.
“Caitlyn…”
“it’s okay…” she whispered. “You can continue.”
Vi inhaled sharply. Her fingers moved down Caitlyn's neck like someone touching a locket, finding the racing pulse beneath the skin.
Caitlyn didn't know who leaned in first.
She only knew that, from one moment to the next, the space between them ceased to exist. That the warmth of Vi's breath mingled with hers, that the light touch of her lips felt like the sweetest uncertainty. A first touch, a pause, a question asked with skin and answered with a slight forward movement, sealing the moment in something that could be called nothing other than a kiss.
A kiss that was exploration, discovery, the echo of every unspoken word in the night.
A kiss that began as a barely perceptible touch, but in the blink of an eye, became something more, something profound, something that spoke in a language they both understood without needing explanation.
Caitlyn felt a shudder run through her body, all the way to her fingertips.
It wasn't a perfect practiced kiss; it was a firsts time kiss. It was clumsy, unsure, and dry at first. But it was all Vi. It was Vi being brave, being vulnerable, choosing her. And Caitlyn wanted to cry because of how beautiful it was. So, with a shaky breath, she reached up and held Vi's face with infinite tenderness as they kissed, angling until the contact became something else. Something wet and deep that made Vi moan in the back of her throat. Caitlyn felt Vi's hands clutch at her shoulders and neck, lost between pushing and pulling.
Caitlyn's grip tightened then. The kiss grew deeper, more desperate. As if they'd both just realized they'd been waiting for this for too long. As if, unplanned and unexpected, they'd fallen for each other... and didn't want to escape.
When they finally broke apart, Caitlyn leaned her forehead against Vi's, trying to catch her breath, trying not to smile too wide. The cool air on her lips felt like too much of a contrast to the warmth Vi had left her with.
“Shit…” Vi gasped, her smile barely perceptible, her lips glossy and her eyelids squinting as if she were struggling to focus.
Caitlyn laughed, a shaky sound that sounded too young for her. “Yeah. Shit.”
Vi ran her tongue over her lower lip, tasting the residue of the kiss, and Caitlyn couldn't resist. This time she was sure it was her who closed the distance, who molded Vi's mouth with the certainty of someone who had already memorized its shape. She noticed the exact moment Vi surrendered: when her hands tangled in Caitlyn's hair and her body leaned forward like a plant towards the sun.
Caitlyn welcomed her. She showed her with her lips what she'd never been able to express with words: that she could be fragile here, that she didn't need to see to be seen. When her hands found Vi's waist, she felt the shudder that ran down her spine, the way she clung to her like a drowning woman to a life preserver.
“Vi,” she whispered against her mouth, and the name tasted like a promise.
There was no answer. Just the sound of her ragged breathing, the brush of short nails against the back of her neck, the way Vi let herself go—for the first time in her life—without asking where. And now that Caitlyn knew what it felt like, how they fit, how Vi's lips felt against hers, she never wanted to break away. She pressed her lips to hers with more confidence, firmness, and urgency.
And Vi, for her part, had never felt anything like this.
No one had ever touched her with such care, with such restrained desire. The weight of reality fell upon her in a single instant.
She was kissing Caitlyn.
Caitlyn was kissing her.
And there was no mistaking it, no confusion in any of their movements. Vi felt the air turn thick, hot, as if her entire body were responding to something she didn't quite understand. Caitlyn leaned her head once more, deepening the kiss, making it slower, more devastating.
A shiver ran down Vi's spine, unsure of what she was doing. She had no experience at this. But Caitlyn did, and she was guiding her. She was exploring her with her lips, her hands, her shallow breaths against her skin. She was teaching her how to feel.
For the first time in her life, she was completely vulnerable to someone… and she didn't want to run away. Caitlyn was teaching her with every touch that she didn't have to. Vi didn't have to be strong right now. She didn't have to prove anything. She just had to be there. Thus, Vi chose to stay. She chose to let Caitlyn keep kissing her, keep discovering her with that infinite patience, as if there was nothing else in the world that mattered to her at that moment. She chose to lose herself in the way Caitlyn sighed against her skin, in the way she held her as if she were something irreplaceable.
And then…
Vi moved at an odd angle, as if trying to change the direction of the kiss, but she did so abruptly that she ended up slamming her forehead into Caitlyn's cheekbone.
“Fuck,” Vi growled as she jerked away, her hand going to her forehead out of reflex.
Caitlyn made a strange sound, a cross between a stifled laugh and a gasp of surprise, in disbelief at what had just happened. She blinked, still absorbing the moment, but before she could react, Vi was already backing away, her ears pricked with embarrassment.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking klutz,” she muttered, rubbing the impact spot as if she wanted to erase the moment from history.
Caitlyn didn't say anything at first. Instead, she reached out and captured Vi's face between her palms, as firmly as she would hold something precious that refuses to be contained.
“Let me see,” she murmured, leaning down until her warm breath brushed Vi’s flushed skin. With her thumbs, she brushed back Vi’s unruly bangs, revealing the exact spot of the blow.
“It’s nothing,” Vi protested, her voice deep and raspy, but Caitlyn was already leaning in to place a soft kiss right over the red mark.
“I know,” Caitlyn said, with a smile that Vi could hear in her tone, “but now you have a mark from me.”
The ridiculous pride in Caitlyn’s voice while saying that made Vi's face burn for reasons completely unrelated to the blow.
“So now you mark me as your property, cupcake?” Vi teased, though her voice sounded huskier than she intended.
Caitlyn smiled, sliding her fingers down the back of Vi's neck in a motion that made Vi's muscles instantly relax and the corner of her mouth curl against her will. Caitlyn filed that detail in her mind to use later.
“I only claim what is worth it,” she whispered, and there was something in her tone, something between teasing and naked truth, that made Vi have to bury her face in her shoulder to hide the goofy smile that threatened her. “Are you comfortable, darling?”
Vi faked a growl and buried her face deeper into Caitlyn's shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of her perfume before going still, clinging to Caitlyn with an ease that frightened her a little.
“This is humiliating,” she murmured against the fabric of her blouse, though her arms wrapped around Caitlyn with a ferocity that said exactly the opposite.
Caitlyn laughed, a low sound that vibrated in her chest.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m not good at this,” Vi admitted, her voice lower now, almost whispering a secret.
Caitlyn responded by tightening the hug, pulling her closer.
“You don’t have to be,” she assured her.
Vi pressed her lips together and raised her head, frowning. “How do you know that?”
Caitlyn looked at her tenderly.
“Because…” she gently ran a finger down her cheek, caressing it with the pad of her finger in a barely perceptible gesture, “…you don’t have to know everything for this to be real.” Then, she leaned her head down and placed a small kiss on Vi’s forehead, this time right between her eyebrows. “Besides, for your first kiss, it wasn’t so bad”
Vi let out a nasal laugh, but before she could respond, Caitlyn played with the short hairs at the back of her neck and added with a mischievous smile:
“Although I suggest helmets for next time.”
Vi pinched her waist, enjoying the exaggerated "Ouch!" she got from Caitlyn.
"Be quiet"
Caitlyn responded by bringing her lips less than an inch from Vi's, her breath hot and promising.
“Make me,” she whispered.
Vi needed no further invitation.
:::::
Night lay over Piltover like a velvet blanket, dotted with golden lights flickering in the distance. Caitlyn and Vi walked toward the bridge, their footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestone streets, the echo of their rendezvous still lingering between them.
Their hands were still intertwined, but this time, with less shyness and more certainty. Vi wasn't simply letting Caitlyn lead the way, as she had at the beginning of the night. Now they walked in sync, their bodies barely separated, sharing the same space as if they'd found a natural way to fit together.
Caitlyn felt Vi interlace their fingers more firmly, as if testing how long she could hold on to them without them pulling away. She didn't.
The silence between them wasn't awkward, but comfortable in its own way. But Vi, true to her nature, couldn't help but break it with a question that weighed on her tongue.
“So… what happens now?”
Her voice sounded lower than usual, almost hesitant. Caitlyn turned her face slightly, noticing how Vi looked straight ahead, her expression carefully neutral, as if she didn't want to reveal too much of what she was really feeling.
“What do you mean?” Caitlyn asked, although she thought she knew.
Vi exhaled through her nose, her grip on Caitlyn's hand loosening slightly, as if she were considering letting go.
“To this,” she murmured, slightly raising her hand from Caitlyn’s before gently letting it fall. “To what just happened… to us.”
Caitlyn stopped, forcing Vi to do the same. Vi didn't pull her hand away, but she didn't shake it again either. She just waited. For what? She wasn’t sure.
Caitlyn watched her intently, memorizing the way the streetlight silhouetted her against the city backdrop, the way her reddish hair gleamed with copper in the dim glow. Vi couldn't see her watching her, but she must have felt it, because she swallowed hard.
Then, with a barely perceptible smile, Caitlyn ran her thumb over Vi's knuckles in a brief caress.
“Now,” she said with the same certainty with which she had previously promised to catch her, “I’ll walk you home. And tomorrow… we’ll see.”
Vi blinked, as if the answer baffled her because of how simple it was. Caitlyn wasn't asking her to understand everything right now, or to have answers to questions she hadn't even finished formulating.
She just asked her to be there.
Vi gave a low laugh, almost as if she felt foolish for having expected something more complicated.
“Okay… but you don’t have to take me home, you know?” she said. “It’s a long way for you. As long as you get to the bridge, that’s fine.”
"But…"
“I won’t get lost, cupcake,” she exclaimed in a tone that left no room for reply.
The wind over the bridge carried with it the scent of wet metal and the distant breeze of Zaun. It was a barrier between two worlds, but in that moment, for Caitlyn and Vi, it was simply the place where they should say goodbye.
They stopped at the midpoint, where the light of Piltover blended with the gloom of Zaun, creating a space that didn't quite belong to either side. Vi didn't let go of Caitlyn's hand immediately, holding it in hers for a moment longer, as if measuring how long she could stretch it before reality separated them.
Caitlyn looked at her with an expression that softened every line of her face, her lips still curved in the shadow of a smile.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll text you as soon as I get home,” Vi promised.
Caitlyn bit her lip, but said nothing. She just raised her free hand and, with the same gentleness with which Vi had explored her face hours before, traced the line of her jaw and the curve of her cheekbone with her fingertips. Vi froze under her touch, her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
But they weren't necessary.
Caitlyn leaned in, with the same patience she'd used to read her every expression that night, and placed a kiss on her lips. It wasn't intense or desperate, but gentle, contained, with the promise that it wouldn't be the last. Vi responded just as calmly, savoring the sensation, etching it into her memory as something she could recall when the distance between them grew greater.
When Caitlyn pulled away, just a few inches, Vi let out a sigh that sounded almost like a whisper between them.
“See you tomorrow,” Caitlyn murmured, as if it were the simplest, most natural thing in the world.
Vi smiled, small and sincere.
"See you tomorrow, cupcake"
And with one last fleeting touch to Caitlyn's knuckles, Vi turned and disappeared into the mists of Zaun, the sound of her cane echoing on the asphalt.