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Caitlyn was always going to end up addicted to caffeine in one way or another. The more pertinent question was by which means? The answer turned out to be any of them. Coffee, tea, even downing an energy drink if nothing else was available.
Which leads her to this morning, like every other, patiently awaiting her order from her preferred coffee shop. There is a steady trickle of people in and out at this hour, and Caitlyn folds herself into a corner table to wait, pulling out her book.
She's so engrossed in it, certain she knows the culprit of the fictional crime, that she nearly misses the commotion.
Voices behind the counter grow louder, tinged with pleasant surprise. Peering out of the corner of her eye, her peripheral vision catches movement towards the register from all the workers. Then she hears it, a name she hasn't spoken out loud in years but which stayed with her nonetheless: Vi.
She almost drops her book in shock. Surely this must be a different Vi. Not her Vi.
A stolen glance confirms that, of course, it's her Vi. That splash of color couldn't be anyone else. Why would it be? This used to be their coffee shop, situated perfectly between Piltover and Zaun. It's where Vi would drag her to in order to feed her caffeine addiction. They spent many a sunlit afternoon in this place, peaceful hours that slipped away like shining drops of sweet honey dissolving in impeccably steeped tea.
After everything, Caitlyn kept coming. Partly for the coffee, partly for the memories. A little bit with the hope of seeing Vi again. Before she learned that Vi had moved away. Seems she's back now.
Panic prickled at Caitlyn's skin. What should she do? Her corner table is tucked away nicely but what if Vi sees her anyway and it looks like she was hiding? What about the fact that Caitlyn wanted Vi to see her? But did Vi? Would it be worse to do something or nothing?
Mind swirling with questions and no answers, Caitlyn lifts her book to cover her face. Just until she can figure out what to do.
She still hasn't figured it out when the chatter behind the counter dies down and Caitlyn peeks out from the side to see Vi moving. She stops by the pick-up counter, face downturned towards her phone.
Caitlyn swallows. She's so close. Caitlyn can see her, but not well enough. She wants to discover every mark these past years left on her in Caitlyn's absence.
At that exact moment, stormy gray eyes dart up and lock with hers.
Caitlyn can't breathe and, like a coward, retreats behind her book. She expects Vi to march up to her, to maybe send a scathing comment her way or tease her good naturedly. None of those things happen. When Caitlyn sneaks another glance, Vi is engrossed in her phone again.
If Caitlyn's chest tightens, it has nothing to do with Vi.
She sits suspended in this in-between for what feels like forever, staring at words on the page and not absorbing a single word. The nature of the mystery? She cannot even recall.
"Caitlyn!" One of the employees, Marcia, calls out. Caitlyn stands.
"Vi!" Gets called right after.
It's just Vi, Caitlyn chides herself and wills her feet to keep moving forward.
Vi and Caitlyn reach the counter at the same time. Lost for words and cheeks burning, Caitlyn hastily reaches for her vanilla latte and the little bag containing her croissant. What waits for Vi is familiar. Far too familiar. A medium black coffee and a strawberry cupcake with a nauseating amount of sprinkles.
Vi's hand closes over her coffee cup and her other pinches the cupcake between her fingers. Caitlyn should be going, hurrying away with her head down. Everyone says that running into your ex is awkward and painful, so she should be trying to get away as fast as she can.
Yet, she feels compelled to lift her eyes once more to Vi's face. Gray eyes are already looking at her. Vi's mouth crooks upward into a half smile exactly how Caitlyn remembers and she raises her cupcake in a toasting motion.
"Nice to see you, Cait."
The nickname rolls off her tongue with ease, lacking any iota of self-consciousness. And it sounds right in her mouth. There's no bitterness in the curves and planes of her face.
Vi winks at her and takes a long stride away when Caitlyn masters the courage to whisper, "you too."
How she missed her; her voice, her presence, her everything. How it hurt to watch her walk away and know Caitlyn only had herself to blame.
Later, in her office, Caitlyn fiddles with her cell phone. She should be working, preparing for the trial of the most high profile case her aunt dropped in her lap so that the newspaper could run another story on the high-achieving Senator Kiramman's daughter and how she's also following in her mother's footsteps to shape the future. Or something like that. The same old story again and again.
Instead, her attention is bound by her phone. More specifically by a phone number she hasn't contacted in ages. There it sits, 'Vi', innocuous and simple while still being so so complicated.
Caitlyn taps her index finger against her cheek. Vi didn't show any hostility today… but a passing interaction is very different from an intentional text message.
Tap, tap, tap. She thinks of the exact shade of Vi's eyes, the fall of her hair, the tenor of her voice, and the black ink stamped down her arms. When was the last time she saw her smile or laugh or even cry? When was the last time Caitlyn went a single day without Vi's name drifting through her mind at least once? When did Caitlyn last feel like herself, without armor?
Her fingers move before she tells them to and she hits send. Not fifteen minutes later, three dots appear at the bottom of her screen.
Caitlyn is early. Horrendously so. Now, there's nothing for her to do but wait as the anxiety swirling in her stomach bloats and reaches strangling tendrils to her other organs.
To think she'd even spent twenty minutes pacing in the foyer before leaving. All useless.
The bell above the door tinkles softly and Caitly can easily confirm that the person entering isn't Vi. Naturally not. Because Caitlyn is terribly early. Fidgeting, Caitlyn pulls her novel out again and has to reread that first page four times before her mind finally sinks into the story.
Time passes as she turns the pages, nodding along at the new evidence revealed that supports her theory. She goes on like that for some time until thick fingers drumming on the table right by her own startles her into awareness.
There she is. Vi. Sitting across from her with a bemused expression on her face, eternal softness behind it.
"Oh, Vi! I apologize, I didn't see you there.”
"Don't worry about it. You seemed really engrossed in your book, Cait." Vi waves her apology away and tilts her head in an attempt to read Caitlyn's book cover.
Caitlyn uses that second to glance at the clock by the counter. The minute hand declares it to be about seven minutes past their agreed-upon meeting time. When they were dating, Caitlyn had very quickly uncovered an odd phenomenon: If she and Vi agreed to meet somewhere at a specific time, Vi arrived five minutes late. Like clockwork, on the dot. And Vi was already sitting when she went to get Caitlyn's attention a second ago. With utmost certainty, Caitlyn knows that Vi had arrived five minutes late. The same way she used to.
Caitlyn's heart gives a little squeeze at the realization. The pure knowing of a person.
"Wanna go up and order?" Vi asks.
Caitlyn nods, slipping a bookmark in to hold her spot and then snapping the cover closed.
Vi orders the same thing as yesterday, steady as ever. Caitlyn requests tea and a blueberry muffin. A couple minutes later, they settle back at their table, Caitlyn stealing a too-hot sip of her tea. As always, the heat scalds her tongue as punishment.
“You still do that, huh?” Vi hides her smile behind her coffee cup. A shame really.
“Do what?” Caitlyn blinks.
“Ya know. Take a small sip of a hot drink right away and burn your tongue a little. Wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve burned off some of your tastebuds. Or pain receptors.” Vi chuckles. A deep, comforting sound.
Yes, Caitlyn thinks. Here she is. The person who knows me. Let me relearn you.
The simplicity of life, of how in Vi’s presence everything boils down into its most simple and true form, buoys her entire body for hours. Caitlyn had been so nervous that their little coffee date would be beyond awkward, full of prolonged silences and stuttering words. Her body had betrayed her fear.
Vi had peered up at her from under her lashes. “This doesn’t have to be weird.”
“Hmm?”
“This, us.” Vi gestured across the table to the space between them. “ We don’t have to be weird, Cait. We used to be together, now we aren’t.” She shrugged. “I’m not gonna lie and say it was easy when it happened or that I wasn’t upset about it. But we tried and it didn’t work. You were never cruel about it. You had to do what was best for yourself. In the end, it worked out for me too.”
Caitlyn’s breath caught, yet she never felt as if more oxygen were rushing through her veins. So sustained and fulfilled.
The crash comes later, sitting at her work desk and still floating, making a couple important notes here and there on her upcoming case. Then she opens her email. Mother’s campaign manager sent her this week’s updated schedule, and they have a press conference tomorrow.
The rest of the world floods back in. Every eye and ear trained on her, the buckling weight of her last name, all her words liable to eagle-eyed scrutiny. Nothing is simple anymore. Everything is complicated and hard and her worth is measured by her outside achievements and no one says what they really mean. Well. Almost no one.
She wishes she could be shocked at how quickly that itch for Vi’s company came back and bloomed, taking root in her brain like a parasite. Yet, all the memories she would reply in her head for comfort? To remind herself of better times? Vi was in all of them. Every single one.
The surface of the mirror reflects back a warrior, heavy plated armor and chainmail swallowing a human frame. Every inch is far too polished for the bloodiness of impending battle. Caitlyn turns to critically examine her hair, ensuring that the sleek high ponytail is free of flyaways and errant bumps of hair. Once she’s certain, she nearly empties a whole can of hairspray on it.
The woman staring back at her is severe, formal, fake. Ready to be the Caitlyn Kiramman the world knows. She adjusts her blazer and picks up her heart-shaped trans pin. Secures it bold and bright on her left lapel, unashamed. It had been a gift from Vi actually, after Caitlyn had lost her original one. She remembers how she considered not getting another one. It had been a rare act of recklessness that led to her wearing this to one of Mother’s political events in the first place. Her mother had balked the first time she saw it, only for a moment before she straightened up and wiped her face of all emotions. That was before she looked at Caitlyn point blank and asked, “And where is mine?”
From then on, she tucked away in her heart the knowledge that whenever and wherever she arrived and went to embrace Mother and Father, the same pin would be winking out from their outfits. Having their support… it meant everything to her.
So when Caitlyn had lost hers, Vi had pressed a new pin into her hand and granted her cheek a tender kiss. Caitlyn couldn’t stop a couple tears from escaping then, at the gentleness and love and thoughtless acceptance that Vi had always given her.
The buzzing of Caitlyn’s phone startles her out of her reverie. She grabs it, certain it will be Mother or one of her staff telling her that she’s running behind but it’s none of them. It’s Vi. A short message: good luck tonight :).
Caitlyn swallows. She wants to ask how she knew, to call her and let the timbre of her smooth voice wash over her. She wants to say screw it to the whole thing and ask if Vi’s free. What she does is send a message back: Thank you.
When she glances back up at the mirror one more time, the face is more familiar than it was one second ago. With a sigh, she taps the trans pride pin and grabs her bag, heading for the door.
Deep, inky colors drip across the horizon in the soft twilight and street lights flicker on like buzzing fireflies trapped in glass lanterns. The streets in the Lanes are not quiet, because the Undercity never is, but the constant wave of noise is warm and low.
Caitlyn was glad to check the campaign calendar and see that tonight was free. Luckily for her, the weighty press conference a couple nights ago had cleared the following days, allowing her to accept Vi’s invitation tonight.
Now, Caitlyn smooths the front of her dress nervously as she steps out of the taxi. Hopefully she didn’t go too formal. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to wear to a bookstore opening in the Lanes and she’d opted for a casual skater dress with puff sleeves. The taxi drives off, leaving Caitlyn looking up at the building, all lit up. It looks small, cozy with a restored brick facade and a window box with flowers. The door is wide open.
Squaring her shoulders, Caitlyn crosses the street and enters. Immediately inside is a table with refreshments and cookies. Caitlyn stops to pour herself some lemonade and to snag an oatmeal cookie before plunging into the milling crowd. The bookstore itself appears almost the same on the inside, simultaneously more claustrophobic and spacious than she had expected. The furniture all looks secondhand but in good condition, all the books are the same way and at some points, there are simply stacks of towering books next to bursting shelves. She sees a table with a wooden box on top and a sign that says “take one, leave one”.
The atmosphere is so effortlessly welcoming that Caitlyn’s hackles lower automatically and she moves to join the groups of people further inside. Someone darting around on the fringe of the commotion almost knocks the lemonade out of her hand and all of Caitlyn’s attention is consumed with keeping all the liquid in the cup. If her attention wasn’t so split, she would recognize the shade of that hair immediately, not to mention the unique length of it, very nearly brushing the floor.
“Look who it is,” Jinx sneers at her, arms crossed and looking her up and down with unimpressed eyes.
“Jinx.” Caitlyn doesn’t know what else she’s supposed to say. She had a tentative friendship with Vi’s chaotic little sister when they were dating, but it quickly crumbled with the breakup. Like most of her friendships forged through Vi. This, she knows, is entirely her fault once again.
“What are you doing here?”
“Don’t be a jerk, Pow-Pow. I invited her.” Vi sidles up to them. “And I’m glad she could make it.”
Jinx looks between them, eyes narrowing. She scoffs, steals the half-eaten cookie out of Caitlyn’s hands, and she flits away in the blink of an eye.
Vi huffs. “Sorry about her. Jinx is… Jinx.”
“It’s quite alright.” Except it’s not. Not really. None of it is Jinx’s fault either. All she can hear echoing in her ears are the hollow words she said to Vi years ago, the ones that ended it all. Honest words, but not all of them. She recalls the entire week before, pacing and crying and thinking over and over that it didn’t matter how perfectly Vi fit with Caitlyn, if she would never be compatible with Kiramman. The name, the expectations, the constant self-vigilance. She would never ask Vi to endure that forever just for her. Shamefully, she also knew how the outside world would perceive them. How they would perceive Vi when they stood side-by-side.
Caitlyn did the one thing then that she swore she never would. She made a choice out of fear. A choice that cost her Vi. That cost her love.
A warm palm on her arm brings her back.
“Caitlyn? You okay? Where did you go?” Vi. Gentle and caring.
Caitlyn forces a smile. The kind that never tricked Vi.
“Nowhere important. Thank you for the invite.”
She doesn’t buy it. “‘Course. I saw you found the refreshment table already but they also have a raffle to win a free book of your choosing.”
“Lead the way.”
Vi does. All night, Vi leads the way and Caitlyn follows. She’s always known that the other woman was like a magnet, something to do with her easy demeanor and natural charisma, but Caitlyn has already attributed it more to her good heart. People can tell, and it’s like a beacon drawing them to Vi. Vi folds easily into conversations, joking and listening attentively, drawing Caitlyn in too. Some faces are familiar and they nod at her. As if she’s just one of them.
The community of the Lanes has always been tight knit. She can’t count the number of times Vi sent her a last minute cancellation text because someone’s pipe burst and she had to help fix it or another person needed someone to watch a child for a couple minutes or she had to help someone drunk get home safely from The Last Drop. Any number of things. Never once did Caitlyn resent her for it, although she always held her to rescheduling their dates.
Instead, she pondered all those press conferences and the scripts she’s been handed over the years; the sheer number of times ‘community’ shows up in political discourse. Then she thought, no, that’s not right. Because this is community .
The thought hits her again tonight, watching all these people together and the effortless way they all meld and mix. How they switch between groups and conversations effortlessly. At some point when Caitlyn gets caught up in discussing the mystery genre with a small group of people who are nodding along, Jinx slinks up behind her and slips a cookie into Caitlyn’s hand.
This is what it means to be part of a community. Not constantly watching your back and preplanning every word out of your mouth. None of these people look as if they have their guard up. A breath of fresh air. As of late, even interactions with Jayce have been more strained as he is pulled deeper into the city’s politics. But this is what she wants.
Caitlyn smiles so much that her cheeks start to hurt and she memorizes every face and name she comes across. Vi makes her laugh so hard that she snorts a couple drops of lemonade out of her nose.
When Vi is announced as the raffle winner, Caitlyn claps loudly. Vi nudges her and leans close to tell her to pick out a book.
“But you won!” Caitlyn exclaims.
“You’re almost done with that mystery book.” Vi shrugs.
Caitlyn should tell her that she already has a book lined up for when she’s finished with that one, but her insides feel gooey and Vi’s looking at her all sweetly. So she grabs Vi’s hand in hers.
“Come on, help me choose.”
Pacing has always been a bad habit of hers. One that Mother and Father both tried to break by taking her by the shoulders and depositing her in a seat. It never quite stuck. Frankly, she’d thought she’d have worn grooves into the hardwood floors of her apartment by now.
If she hasn’t before, she will if she doesn’t stop with the back and forth soon. It’s just an invitation to dinner. At her apartment. Just them. She shouldn’t be thinking so hard about it. But would that be interpreted as a date?
If Caitlyn is going to ask Vi on a date, she wants it to be clear. Is that what she’s doing here? They’ve been growing closer and spending plenty of time together. Being with Vi is like being with no one else. How can she be sure she’s ready this time? That she won’t screw it up like last time?
She wants to trust, for once in her life, that her love will be stronger than her fear. It wasn’t last time. Now she’s going around in circles in her own head.
This is getting ridiculous. Caitlyn stops and sends the text. Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?
The response is instantaneous. I would love to, but can’t tonight. Game night.
Caitlyn’s fingers fly before she tells them to. Before she has the foresight to force them still. Oh, they should come too! We could have game night here!
Caitlyn bounces on her toes. It would mean ordering takeout instead of making something, depending on the number of people, but that would be fine. A game night would be so fun! When was the last time Caitlyn had done something like that? Sure, she doesn’t have too much on hand: Guess Who?, 20 Questions, Monopoly, a couple trivia games, but they can also bring their own games.
Which… that’s a nice thought. A nice fantasy. Yet it’s time to consider the reality. What if they don’t want to see her? No doubt it will be Vi’s siblings and a small collection of other friends. The very people Caitlyn neglected after the breakup and yes, it’s true that she’s been making some progress with them over the past weeks by virtue of being around Vi, but there’s a difference between stilted conversation and a game night. Oh no.
She just made a mistake. A huge one. What was she thinking? Telling Vi that they could have game night here? No doubt she’ll turn it down anyway. She’ll float the idea to the group and they’ll all turn it down with such vehemence—
A ding. She reads, you’re sure that’s okay with you? Absolutely positive?
Caitlyn stills. Vi’s considering it? Hesitantly, she types back. Of course. I might need takeout suggestions and please feel free to bring your own games, but yes. I think that would be lovely.
We’ll get right on that. See you around 5:00?
Caitlyn scrambles to send back an affirmative. Afterwards, she spends a couple minutes just staring wide-eyed at her screen waiting for it to sink in. Once she does, she has too much to do to prepare to worry much further.
By the time five o’clock rolls around, however, she’s back to pacing. At 5:05, a knock raps at her door and Caitlyn checks her reflection quickly in the hall mirror. When she throws open the door, Vi is there with a pack of people behind her, beer in her hands.
“Let me take that for you. Come on in.” Caitlyn takes the beer from Vi and walks into the kitchen to set them on the counter amongst the various containers of Thai food. She can hear the others entering the apartment and the closing of the door. When she turns around, Vi is right there.
Suddenly, Caitlyn is being hugged. Vi is hugging her.
“Thank you,” Vi whispers lowly in her ear. “I really appreciate this.” Her voice is thick, choked with a deep emotion, and Caitlyn can’t help but squeezing tightly back. As much as she’d tried to spare Vi during the breakup, she’s intuitive. She knew, without having to ask, that it was not a matter of them not working. That it was more than that. Worse than that. Down to the very roots of who she was. The same roots that nurtured her, her family, and her friends. People rough and proud of who they were. Caitlyn, too afraid to embrace that, pushed them all away. But now, here she was, inviting them happily into her home.
It was never about your roots, Caitlyn wishes she could say now. They flourish, they are beautiful. It’s mine. They’ve been trapped and constrained.
Vi pulls away and chuckles, hand going to the back of her neck. Another habit Caitlyn recognizes.
“Should we call people in for food?” Caitlyn gives her an out. Vi nods.
The night isn’t perfect, she won’t go so far to say it, but she hopes it’s only the first of many. She thinks about how the last time she saw her parents it was all political talk again, sitting together at a dinner with governors and other officials. Reestablishing alliances. With her aunt, it’s always work and law talk. All work, all everything else, all the time. All these empty words skimming the surface.
But it’s another night of laughter, friendship, and reforging relationships. At least after reminding herself to curb her competitive nature. Yet, she is herself and she is accepted genuinely without question. She’d forgotten how sore of a loser Milo was and how adept Powder was at finding loopholes in the rules, which Ekko supported wholeheartedly and then exploited to his heart’s content. Throughout the night, she keeps catching Vi’s gaze, and that warm feeling of an embrace from earlier? It stays wrapped around her the whole time. Far after she’s gone.
“You sure you wanna wear that?” Vi’s gaze is fixed on Caitlyn’s High University of Piltover Law School crewneck.
“Certain. I have plenty.” God forbid anyone forget that Caitlyn Kiramman attended the most prestigious law school. She could do with paint splatters on one.
“Okayyyy.”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes. “Please.” She examines the paint buckets at her feet, standing in Vi’s empty bedroom, taped and ready to go. “gray? Really?”
“What? What’s wrong with gray?”
“Nothing. I just… didn’t think you’d want your bedroom to be gray.”
“It’s more of a silver. Besides, it creates a nice canvas for Jinx’s art. The art that will most certainly keep me from getting my security deposit back.”
Caitlyn laughs. “Didn’t get your security deposit back before moving?”
“No, I did. But Powder was livid when I told her I had to paint over her stuff. I don’t know what she wanted me to do.” Vi throws her arms up in the air. “Either I did it, or the landlord would. I keep telling her to use an actual canvas or some shit if she wants to preserve her stuff, but no dice so far. I’m sure she’ll be over with a spray can as soon as the paint dries.”
Caitlyn shakes her head fondly. “You love that about her.”
“What I would love is for her to make more sense,” Vi grumbles.
Caitlyn chuckles again and bends to grab a roller. “Ready to get started?”
Vi rolls up her sleeves. “Let’s go.”
They work well together, moving in tandem. The first coat of paint is done in record time and they flop down on the couch, covered by an old sheet, relaxing as they wait for it to dry.
It happens when they’re doing the second coat. Caitlyn is backing up to look at one of the walls because she needs to see if it looks even all over, when she bumps into Vi with her hands crossed over her chest. The roller in Caitlyn’s hand squishes paint onto Vi’s upper arm and Caitlyn’s shoulder.
A playful spark ignites in Vi’s eyes right away and Caitlyn knows what’s coming.
“We only have so much spare paint!” She squeals uselessly to try and save herself. It doesn’t work.
Later after their messy paint war and finally finishing up the second coat, they collapse onto the couch again, huge smears of silvery paint on the sheet, staring up at the ceiling.
“Thanks. For coming and helping me with this.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” Caitlyn is utterly sincere. She can’t imagine herself being anywhere else and doesn't want to. Suddenly, everything that’s been bubbling up inside her since she saw Vi again, since the day she left her, comes roaring under her tongue and saying it is the most important thing in the world at that exact moment. Vi has to know. She sits up. “There’s never anywhere else I’d rather be, anytime I’m with you.”
“Yeah? Me too, Cait.”
“No.” Caitlyn stands up, a woman possessed. Vi lifts her head from the couch, a furrow between her brows. “Yes. That’s not—” Caitlyn cuts herself off, frustrated. “My parents have always been in the public eye one way or another. I’ve always been in the public eye one way or another. So I’ve always been told to put my best foot forward, my best face. To show the world the very best of me. But here’s the thing. It’s never been the best of me. Not the parts I consider the best of me. It’s all fake. But it’s never fake when I'm with you. Because all those best parts of me, they just come to the surface. You bring them out of me. Without trying. You always have.”
Vi is sitting up now, arm across the back of the couch and watching her intently. Saying nothing. That’s fine. Caitlyn isn’t finished.
“What I’m really trying to say is that I don't need the world to see that I've been the best I can be. But I don't think I can stand to be where you don't see me. You bring joy, simplicity, laughter, peace into my life. I made a mistake all those years ago, and I’m sorry. I love you. I never stopped. Will… will you take me back? I promise that every day, I will give you the very best of me. I will do better.”
There it is. All she needed to say. It isn’t an act of putting her heart in Vi’s hands, she’d already had it. Rather, it’s letting her know that she holds it, that she could do with it what she willed and Caitlyn would be powerless to stop her.
Vi’s eyes are blown wide, the furrow in her brow deep, and her face drawn. Caitlyn can’t read her. She stands there, in the middle of the cluttered living room, where Vi’s bed and nightstand are pushed to the side of the room and her floor lamp shoved in a corner, a couple boxes with other belongings here and there. If she has to make a quick escape, there are no easy pathways and an abundance of tripping hazards. Not even enough room for her to pace.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Vi pushes herself up from the couch. She walks up to Caitlyn, her face hovering a couple of inches away. Her thumb comes up and caresses a pale cheek. The texture is odd, hardened paint in place of skin but Caitlyn melts into the touch all the same. It comes from Vi after all.
“You know, it’s funny,” Vi starts. “I thought that maybe I’d stopped loving you, then I saw you again and realized that I had been lying to myself. I never stopped. I never will. I see you Caitlyn, always.”
Then Vi gets close, closer, closer and oh. They seal their promise, their new start, with a kiss. A kiss more tender and raw than any Caitlyn has ever known. Caitlyn’s heart settles in her chest as they part and she rests her forehead against Vi’s. The sound of their rhythmic breathing lulls her into a deep haze where they are the only two people in the entire world that matter. It’s peaceful. This is peace. When the real world filters back in and drapes around them, that peace doesn’t fade.
She gets to keep it, holding onto the woman she loves.