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Caitlyn stands in the doorway and takes a couple steps forward in heavy, dark boots. Long legs squeezed into tight, torn leather pants, hemmed too short. Every rip revealing fishnet leggings that hug all the way up her bare waist, rising taught above a thick, dark belt studded in silver stars. Some strategically shredded scrap of fabric that Vi insists is a shirt, hangs just off Caitlyn’s left shoulder and over her chest in a cropped cut. Barely covering a thick-strapped leather harness joined together by jump rings underneath it all. Her midnight locks are done up in a forward facing, messy bun, shards of hair cascading like sparks over her head. To top it all off, clasped at her throat - a kind of dog collar.
“Aw, don’t look at me like that.”
“Do I not look pleased?” Caitlyn’s voice is flat. She shuffles her weight, puts a hand on her hip.
“Actually, it kind of works - with the look.”
Caitlyn is starting to regret agreeing to this whole thing, but she can’t deny the look of absolute adoration in Vi’s eyes. How it warms her heart.
“Whatever.” says Caitlyn, shaking her head. “Let’s just go.”
Vi practically skips out the door, grabbing Caitlyn by the waist and tugging them along into the night.
Since they first met and since everything after, this was going to be their first time out in the newly liberated Undercity. For nothing but the pure leisure of it. The idea was to have fun. To do as young lover’s do. To go to a show at night. Not to gather information, not to fight, not to drown, but to live.
They make their way to a venue called Diamond in the Rough, a repurposed industrial warehouse of sorts, already brimming and boisterous. A tall and well-adorned femme takes their tickets at the door. They hand her their wrists to be stamped in cold ink, each with the outline of a small blue, brilliant cut diamond. With greeting nods at the bouncer, they walk into a dark room, lit in pink and blue light. The crowd is already growing dense.
The opening act seems to have recently exited the stage, instruments and lighting set. A cacophony of chattering voices passing time. Seeing people already so uninhibited, swaying slightly, slinging around drinks, makes Caitlyn nervous. She glances sideways at Vi, who looks around the room, slightly taken aback to find herself in a place like this again.
“I know you’re worried about me.” says Vi, flashing Caitlyn a somewhat nervous but reassuring smile. “But I’ll be okay.”
Vi’s been sober for almost a year now. She insists this is something she's ready to do. Because she wants to. To prove to herself that she can. There have been countless moments of relapse in the months that followed the separation of their two cities. There were challenges and arguments, often tears. For the most part though, when drunk, Vi was most destructive toward herself. They eventually got to a point of filling up her days with distractions, responsibilities and the company of loved ones. It got easier. That’s also part of what makes tonight so special.
“I know that was a shitty time, but there were a few moments in it that felt good.” she said of her pit fighting days, the night she and Caitlyn first discussed the idea with each other. She’d been in Stillwater a good deal of her young adult years, there wasn’t much opportunity for youthful living. When they separated from each other during the war, she lived as an independent adult in a sense, but not an empowered one. That time was a blur to her now, mainly a means of numbing out all the pent up despair that preceded it. Yet in the bleakness of it all - Vi had discovered her all-time favorite punk band.
There’s scattered applause and hollers across the room, indicating that the show will be starting again soon. Vi takes Caitlyn’s hand and starts to weave them through the crowd, a uneven canopy of shoulders and asymmetrical haircuts.
Caitlyn can’t help but feel eyes on her as they move. She is certainly seen not as a disruption she doesn’t think. Though she is keenly aware of her own facade, as she always is when in Zaun. Thanks to Vi, eager to dress her for the occasion, she’s perfectly matched to the current setting. Why then, so much attention?
“They want a taste of you, Cait.” says Vi, sensing her self-consciousness. She leans over and whispers a slight growl into Caitlyn’s ear. “So do I.”
The skin tingles on Caitlyn’s face and neck where Vi’s breath lands. They exchange brief, charged glances before Vi turns to face the stage again, smirking.
Shaking off Vi’s comment, Caitlyn looks around at the world they’ve stepped into. It feels comfortable enough. No one seems to notice her in an unwelcome way. Her gaze meets every so often with shadowed eyes, but it’s true - they’re mainly curious, intrigued.
It’s not like people haven’t noticed Vi either. Since they stepped foot back into the Undercity, Vi’s received and made eyes with nearly every person they’ve passed. Either asserting indifference or returning aloof interest. She’s in her black leather jacket from her pit fighting days, a proper cropped singlet underneath it, leather pants, boots, and studded cuffs over her arm bandages. Vi had said she wanted to reclaim this look, to feel good in it. An apparently easy win.
Though at this point in their time together, Caitlyn knows better. She understands the formidable front of confidence the girl puts on. How it’s all teasing and swagger until you’re truly left alone with her. At which point - Vi is bashful. She falters, melts. Caitlyn knows how much this strong girl craves nothing more than to be held close, a light finger tracing over rough skin, until falling into soft snores. The thought of it makes Caitlyn smile.
She wonders if the other faces around her are the same. Behind all the piercings and dark makeup. The way people hold their bodies, both in conviction and nonchalance. Everything Undercity. All these shows of toughness forged from a life of struggle and violence. So many little ways and details that Caitlyn sees so much of in Vi. They’re in her home, her city. It’s clear how much this place has made her.
A sudden, unwelcome doubt starts to form in her gut.
“Would you rather I be more like this?” she asks, a little surprised at herself for asking aloud.
Vi half turns her head, dark eyelids low and sultry. “In leather? Showing off your upper half? I wouldn’t mind.”
“No, I mean…better suited to you.”
“What?” Vi turns around, looking disturbed.
“You know what I mean.”
Vi stops, her expression one of genuine hurt. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that. After everything we’ve been through.”
They’re caught in a pool of bodies at this point, within good viewing distance but not quite in front of the stage.
Caitlyn tries to speak softly, not to call attention to themselves. “But that’s the thing. We aren’t going through anything now. Things are settling. We’re not in constant danger anymore." she says, looking down, all her confidence crumpled into something small. "Maybe now you can finally live your life, Vi.”
There's a brief moment of stunned silence. The chattering around them filling the space.
“You can be so clueless sometimes, you know that, Cupcake?”
Caitlyn’s heart sinks, beginning to feel guilt as well as hurt at Vi’s words. But then there’s a rough arm around her waist, pulling her close. Caitlyn lets out a soft breath as she braces her hands up in front of her to meet Vi’s collarbones. She’s so close now. A part of Caitlyn scolds herself for not having expected this - Vi’s always shoving and pulling.
“I am living my life, with you.” she says firmly. All Caitlyn can see are dark-rimmed shining eyes, so pretty in the glint of stage lights. “You’re part of that now, Cait. I like that you are who you are - It surprised me, sure. But I can’t even help it.”
Then Vi closes her eyes and leans forward. Caitlyn feels lips crash against her own and lets out a muffled, startled sound before quickly settling in. The kind of place they’re in doesn’t seem to mind the public display they shamelessly melt into. There’s a whistle or croon of encouragement or two, but neither of them care to notice. Caitlyn eases into the feeling of Vi. The warmth and taste of her so close again soothes some of the doubt, and Vi sensing that, presses more earnestly into Caitllyn, wanting to chase it all away. Remind her of this remarkable thing that happens when they come together. Differences be damned.
Caitlyn’s face is warm as they break apart. “Yes, me too.” she says, flushed and breathless.
The crowd suddenly erupts into even louder cheers and rumbles. They turn to face the stage as four figures step into view, casting shadows into smoky streams of light. All dressed in black, more silver studs and shredded fabric than what Vi even managed to get Caitlyn into, is who they’re here to see: A local, all-femme hardcore group called Suade.
All the attention in the room concentrates in one direction. Vi and Caitlyn, turn their bodies to oblige. Within just a few moments, the entire place transforms into a raw and brilliant dream.
The lead singer is a dark-skinned androgynous beauty, whose voice is both gravelly and silken. They pour out caressing verses, sultry between interludes of indecipherable screams. Vi among others thrash at these moments, breaking from the steady, emphatic head nods timed to the metallic strums of the guitar. At first, Caitlyn is struck by the foreignness of the sounds, paralyzed by novelty and vivid immersion. She observes the reaction in Vi and others around her, the way the grit and fire of it all is absorbed and thrown out again in kicks and tosses.
Caitlyn is by all means beyond her realm, though the more she observes - feels the rumbling of the speakers purr through her body - the more she begins to understand. The urge for release in an outburst of pure force makes more sense to her now. She recognizes it, having finally experienced deep loss and anguish after a strictly sheltered life. Having now observed those qualities so closely in the girl she loves. It’s so visceral, so incredibly Vi. The screams of the vocalist even remind her of Vi. The rawness of it. Bone chilling, and somehow - beautiful?
A space is left reverently right in front of the stage for people to cast their bodies into, in something resembling violence. But it’s not that, it’s chaotic yet controlled. Different from the real violence Caitlyn had experienced last year and that Vi has known all her life. She can recognize it as expression. Not a first or last resort. Viewing it this way, almost makes the whole thing tame. Vi yells out approvingly as people toss their bodies into each other and pushes people back into the fray as they bump up against her. Caitlyn wonders if Vi is about to hurl into it herself. When she doesn’t, Caitlyn then wonders if it’s for her sake, or the sake of others, as Vi hasn’t quite learned to play gently.
After what feels like hours and no time at all, including an encore following a riotous display of demand, the show ends with approving howls, claps and the banging of various solid objects. Vi is ecstatic. She throws her fists up in the air, as the band steps off the stage. She turns to Caitlyn, eyes wide, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her a little.
“That was incredible!” she yells at Caitlyn, in exhilaration, in an aggressive kind of joy. “And I haven’t had a single drink!”
Caitlyn nods affectionately and wraps her arms around Vi to pull her in for a hug. She feels euphoria radiating from the girl, wants to contain it, press it back down into her so that it lasts. How much Vi deserves to feel such uncommon brilliance.
“I used to go out every night, Cait.” Vi says by Caitlyn’s ear, astonished. “It was never like this.”
Caitlyn hears the sudden drop in Vi's tone and immediately braces herself to catch the fall. She says nothing, just holds her. Shutting her eyes to center on the sudden weight that pulls them into stillness, running her hand back and forth along Vi’s shoulder. They stay like this as people start to shuffle around them toward the door, the gaps between bodies becoming more spread.
“I used to see you, you know? In the crowd.” Vi says, so softly now. “But it wasn’t really you.”
Vi has told her this before. Many times. Especially when she got to drinking again. Caitlyn’s heart clenches - like it always does, hearing her talk about those drowning days.
“I know, Vi.” she says, gently pulling away to look at her.
With the sudden space between them, Vi curls open like a flower, looking up to meet Caitlyn's gaze. There she is - the girl she knows. No more fight in her big bright eyes. Just wonder - trust. It's enough to keep Caitlyn standing there, just as they are, for the rest of the night.
“I’m here now.” says Caitlyn, laying a hand tenderly against Vi’s cheek. Brushing her thumb over the letters there, dotted neatly into skin. “I’m right here.”
Vi's hand comes up to hold Caitlyn's. She smiles, looks down and shakes her head, letting out a bewildered breath of air. "Sorry, I guess -"
"Don't apologize."
Vi's eyes snap up at her again, they're bashful. She sighs, "It was just a hard time."
Caitlyn nods, her heart heavy with knowing.
"It's sort of hard to believe. I'm here and sober and nobody got hurt!" Vi laughs, a little breathlessly. "You're here too, you're real and... you look so fucking hot.”
Caitlyn playfully slaps Vi’s face to the side and pushes her away.
“Let’s get out of here.” she says, rolling her eyes and turning toward the door. Vi follows after her, stumbling into a light jog, laughing.
They're the last ones to leave the room.
After nodding to the bouncer once again and the bartender, looking a little impatient, they step light and full into the night. A chilly haze, as usual, drifts through the streets of Zaun. The faint glow of neon casting against stony walkways and the glints of silver in their garb.
Sliding her hands into her jacket pockets, Vi leans toward Caitlyn. Coyness in her posture. “So, what did you think?”
“Madness.” says Caitlyn, smiling as she shakes her head. “Absolute madness.”
Caitlyn is barely covered and the cold air runs right into every gap and rip in her carefully planned ensemble. Her arms fold against her chest, holding in her own warmth. Vi laughs sympathetically and puts an arm around Caitlyn’s shoulder, who always has to stoop a little when she does. Upon contact, Caitlyn sighs into the welcome heat.
Holding eachother, they unspokenly decide to put the evening to a close. Both naturally starting to walk in the direction of where they’ll spend the night. Knowing the Kirraman estate would be too far a trek at this hour, they had already planned to stay in a room Ekko could offer them. Where the Firelights are no longer hiding.
“Thanks,” says Vi.
“For what? Letting you talk me into this?”
“Well, yeah.” Vi stops, turns Catilyn to face her and leans in for another kiss. It’s brief but full of appreciation, gratitude.
As they pull apart Vi says, “I don’t want you to think I need you to be something you’re not. I like you the way you are, Cait.”
There's warmth on Caitlyn's cheeks, embarrassment. She resumes their pace. “Oh nevermind that. I was just being ridiculous.”
“No, I get it. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable dressing you up tonight." Vi says, eyes scanning Caitlyn up and down again. “I just wanted to see my favorite band in Zaun and not have everyone clock my girlfriend as a Piltie.”
Caitlyn sighs through a smile. “But I am from Piltover, Vi.”
“Don’t I know it." scoffs Vi. "And as a Piltie, you can’t tell me a part of you didn't kind of love this.”
“Love is a strong word.”
“You just seemed awfully cozy, like you were enjoying yourself. I’m impressed.”
“Nonsense. I’m like a newborn fawn - in fishnets.”
“It’s in the way you stand, the way you move.” says Vi, grinning coyly. “It feels good doesn’t it?”
“You must be imagining things.” Caitlyn rolls her eyes, then flashes Vi a small smirk. “I can understand why you like all of this. Let’s just leave it at that.”
She ignores the smug expression on Vi’s face, looking ahead and down the street. Oddly empty at this hour. They keep walking, steadily and with bodies close.
“You can call us even for that time I wore the same uniform as the people who killed my parents.” Vi says, after a few moments.
Caitlyn freezes, breaking apart from Vi’s hold. Her face horrified.
“Oof - That joke was kinda heavy, huh?”
“Slightly.” breathes Caitlyn.
They exchange guilty, knowing smiles. Coming back together at their hips and shoulders, they continue walking.
Vi laughs. “Wow that was pretty fucked up!”
“Your joke? Or the whole situation?”
“I don’t know, my whole life maybe?”
Caitlyn nods, looking somber again.
Vi keeps laughing.
“It’s not funny, Vi. It’s terrible.” says Caitlyn. “Did you have a drink?”
“Hell no!” Vi eyes are on the ground, smiling to herself as they walk.
“What you’ve had to go through, I just can’t laugh about that.” says Caitlyn, a familiar remorse creeping in. “I also didn’t help things and... I’ll always be sorry for that.”
Vi doesn’t respond. They’ve already had this conversation as well. Multiple times. It’s gotten lighter since.
They walk quietly for a few moments. Just the sound of boots on stone and the faint echo of nightlife through the streets.
Suddenly, Vi asks, “Wanna know the craziest part though?”
She pulls Caitlyn in even closer by her waist as they walk. Caitlyn leans her head against Vi's. “What’s that?” She asks, a little apprehensive.
There's a slight, almost gleeful, pause.
“I’m happy, Cait.”
And that was it. The words that made it all worth it. Said so frankly they could have meant so much less. But Caitlyn feels them, a sunburst right in her chest. All she’s ever wanted to hear Vi say.
She throws her other arm around Vi's neck and presses a strong and lingering kiss into her cheek.
"Do you mean that?" she asks, turning to breathe into Vi's ear.
Vi exhales sharply through a smile, holding Caitlyn's weight as the girl drapes against her. Her arms curl around Caitlyn's lower back, running over the curve and warmth of exposed skin beneath the mesh.
"I do actually. I really fucking do."
In an instant their lips find each other again, bright and hungry. They take in all they can, with gripping arms and fingers, mouths dancing in a show of joy and maybe relief.
When they break apart, Caitlyn's arms are still around Vi's neck as she leans back into her hold. Both their eyes are glassy.
“You getting tired, Cupcake?” Vi asks.
“No,” Caitlyn shakes her head with a quiet giggle. Her hand runs up Vi's neck to the back of her head, fingers sinking into brilliant red locks. “Are you?”
“Not even close.”