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Never arrive on time. To do so is to flirt with danger and, subsequently, welcome regret. One of the golden rules kept in mind by those accustomed to spending time at airports. Traveling by plane both for leisure and business is indeed something that she has grown used to. It’s precisely the reason why she strives to be early each and every time. Although she can easily eat the cost of a missed flight, not even she actually wishes to.
This time, she’s afforded herself enough time to indulge at a place within the Portlive Airport called Misfit Twins Wine Bar. Nestled in a corner approximately twenty-five minutes away from the boarding gate that she’ll be using today, it’s an establishment that she’s no stranger to. Unaccompanied, she claims one of a few vacant seats standing next to each other. Comprised of beige wood and lime leather, their sturdy backs complement the bar’s overall color scheme.
It seems that the roster of bartenders has expanded since she last visited, because she does not recognize the individual working alongside the one with whom she is acquainted. Loris, a hulking man with a heart of gold, offers her a friendly smile that she does not hesitate to return. The stranger, a short ginger with eyes reminiscent of a cloudless sky, silently glances her way. During the fleeting moment that sees their gazes meeting, the unfamiliar employee regards her with a look of pure scrutiny. Though she does offer a curt nod of acknowledgement before promptly returning to her duties, a smile never touches her lips. Not a sincere one, anyway.
Not the most amiable person, apparently. Not even when on the clock.
No matter.
After giving the menu a cursory review, to determine whether she’ll be having her usual or trying something new this time, she turns her focus to her cellphone. An unread text message sent by her sophisticated mother, a revered member of a city council, demands her attention. The older Kiramman is actually the reason behind today’s flight. She’s venturing to her childhood home, which has remained her parents’ primary residence. They’re hosting their traditional Winter Soiree, an exclusive event attended by the most elite residents of the Piltover. As well as a handful of affluent and influential individuals who reside in neighboring cities.
Despite being a member of a prosperous family, she’s not especially fond of socializing with those who could be called rich. Egocentricity and a glaring lack of compassion are not uncommon among those who fall into that socioeconomic class. Exasperating issues for which she has very little patience. She truly detests such shallowness and complacency.
So, knowing this, why exactly is she willingly going to attend an event that she could very well refuse to go anywhere near?
Inherently ambitious, her mother is aiming to follow in the footsteps of her forbearers. Driven to climb the social ladder in the field of politics, she is doing all that she can to run a successful campaign that will ultimately result in her becoming mayor. From there, she’ll inevitably pursue the role of a representative. Part of securing the needed votes, and desired donations, is presenting a unified front as a family. Not having her only child present at an annual event of tremendous importance would raise questions. Perhaps even spark doubt.
Given that she chooses to be around her mother and father infrequently during the rest of year, the very least that she can do is attend the Winter Soiree. Fake a polite smile above a flute of champagne while participating in frivolous discussion with people who possess far more money than they truly need. It’s only one night, after all. A matter of hours that will pass, regardless of what may occur.
Nonetheless, she suddenly finds herself drawn away from those unappealing thoughts. Entirely unfamiliar, a voice pulls her back to the present.
“This seat taken?”
After blinking once, as though to banish any lingering traces of distracting thoughts, she ceases looking upon her cellphone. Promptly, she glances to her right.
And in that singular moment, when disparate gazes meet, a shift becomes palpable to her. Although she’s not one to think of fated meetings as being more than mere fairytales and daydreams, she finds it impossible to deny that this one encounter feels…destined somehow.
Despite bearing a hue evocative of unyielding steel, curious eyes do not play host to a forbidding iciness. Rather than intimidate, they offer an enticing warmth. Not terribly far beneath one of them, the number six rests upon the curved plane of a cheek. The lines comprising the Roman numeral are thin, but not to the point of making it difficult to discern.
Sporting a vivid pink hue, unkempt tresses tempt her to reach out and gently ruffle them. Not neaten them, though. No, there’s something captivating about their disorderly state. In a way, the sight is a visual representation of resilience and independence. Of an enduring unwillingness to conform. Might those be qualities residing within the stranger herself?
She’s attractive. To the point of rendering her speechless for a moment that feels unnaturally long. Not uncomfortably long. Cliche as it might be, she could glean contentment from silently gazing upon the stranger for quite some time. She could make constellations of the freckles scattered across her face. Of course, she cannot do that right now. For several reasons, beginning with how peculiar that would make her seem.
Quickly recovering, she turns her head from side to side in reply. She hasn’t forgotten the question that has been posed.
“Not at all. Sit.”
Before another word can escape from either of them, a third voice joins the mix.
“Vi.”
Apparently also familiar with the particular bartender who’s approached, the stranger acknowledges his presence with a warm grin.
“Hey, Loris. Found yourself backup, huh?”
Simultaneously, both of their gazes settle upon the aloof ginger. Though she briefly looks at them from out of the corner of her left eye, she remains focused on tending to the orders of the other patrons. She works efficiently, never spending more time than necessary on any one task. Though a smile does adorn her lips, it’s nearly imperceptible and it appears incredibly restrained. It looks decorative, as though she’s wearing it only because she feels obligated to.
“Maddie.”
Given that he hasn’t uttered it with a volume designed to catch the ginger’s attention, Loris is not calling her name. Just revealing it to them as a means of acknowledging Vi’s words. He pauses, eyes studying the scene of his industrious coworker. Completely unburdened by a sense of urgency, he resumes speaking of her.
“Started a few days ago. Knows her way around a bar, but she’s working on her people skills.”
Without thinking, acting solely on impulse, she tersely comments.
“Clearly.”
Amusement, unhidden and unfeigned, teases the lips of her newest acquaintance. The exact same sentiment colors her voice as she maneuvers their conversation away from the topic of Maddie.
“And who's this ray of sunshine?”
Turning around to face them once more, Loris proceeds to properly introduce them to one another. Casually moving his right hand, he gestures from the individual at her side to her.
“Vi, Caitlyn. Caitlyn, Vi.”
A nickname, most likely. Explains the intriguing tattoo resting beneath her left eye. Not meant to be ‘six’, but rather ‘Vi’. Though, what exactly is it an abbreviation of? Viola? Violet? Before she can enquire about the matter, a remark trails after the names that have rolled off of Loris’ tongue.
“Both of you have a knack for finding your way here.”
If that is true, if Vi also frequents this establishment, it is curious that their paths have not crossed until now. Not that she possesses reason to doubt the congenial bartender. He’s always been an honest man, and he wouldn’t deviate from that for a lie so trivial. Regardless, she chooses to focus on teasing him instead of truly questioning him. Betraying a playfulness that has abruptly arisen within her, a harmless smirk toys with her lips.
“You make us sound like alcoholics. You do realize that that counts as defamation, don’t you?”
A valid point that elicits a hearty chuckle from its recipient. He knows quite well that there is no risk of him being saddled with legal consequences. Just as she knows quite well that he wasn’t actually meaning to depict them in such an unflattering way.
“Wasn’t my intention. Just saying that I see both of your faces often enough.”
This time, it’s Vi who acknowledges his observation. After descending her shoulders into a perfunctory shrug, she replies. That enlivening grin of hers, seemingly so full of life and light, remains perfectly intact.
“Can you blame me? Wherever good company is at, you’ll find me.”
No doubt appreciative of the unsolicited compliment, Loris offers something that exists between a smirk and a smile. Sincere as it is benign, the smile rests comfortably upon his lips.
“Guess you can say we’ve got that and more.”
Indeed they do.
But, she and Vi are here for a greater purpose. As much as she wishes that she could let time freely slip by and discover what all might eventually come of this unanticipated meeting, she reminds herself that she does not have that luxury. She does not possess all the time in the world. Here, at an airport that is as bustling as any other, time is bound to constraints for those scheduled to take flight.
“Speaking of drinks, why don’t we order? May I buy you a drink?”
The spark of interest that emerges within silvery eyes does not evade her awareness. Effortlessly, she takes notice of both it and the softening of Vi’s grin into a toothless smile.
“Buy me as many as you want, Cupcake.”
Used as though they’re more than people who just became acquainted with one another less than half an hour ago, the sugary moniker catches her off guard. Canting her head ever so slightly, she echoes it in a quizzical fashion.
“Cupcake?”
For a moment during which it feels as though time itself generously halts for them, they simply look at one another. Loris’ presence goes forgotten as she watches the pink-haired traveler study her countenance, searching for the unknown. She takes a moment to better familiarize herself with Vi’s captivating eyes, reminiscent of tinsel with their brilliant shine. Twin canvases that currently display curiosity, their pull is magnetic.
In the end, apparently satisfied with something, Vi dips her chin into a firm nod.
“It suits you.”
Seeing no point in bothering to resist the smile seeking to gain purchase upon her lips, she allows its materialization to occur. Mirth colors her voice as she highlights the precise reason why it seems so impossible for such a determination to be made.
“We just met.”
How could she possibly know if something like that would suit her? Sure, there’s the matter of appearance, but it’s all too easy to eliminate that possibility. Nothing about her should summon to mind a nickname so…childlike. For lack of a more accurate adjective. She truly doesn't know how else to describe it at present. The color scheme that she wears at present primarily consists of ivory and obsidian. Not exactly a combination that one would associate with a treat as sweet as a cupcake.
Yet, Vi is undeterred. She proves herself to be no less certain than she was mere seconds ago.
“I’m good at reading people.”
She’s undeniably tempted to question Vi’s perception of her, but she cannot look away from the fact that she must remain on track.
Once more, she must remind herself of where she is and why. She must remind herself not to lose track of time, despite the powerful allure of that notion. Smile still adorning her lips, she turns her head to meet Loris’ gaze.
“I’ll take two of her usual.”
Given that she is a complete stranger to Vi’s preferences, there’s certainly a risk that she’ll find whatever drink it is that Vi favors unpalatable. However, that is a risk that she is more than willing to take. She’s feeling…daring right now.
“Got it.”
Uttering no further words, Loris leaves them to set about concocting a pair of libations. Vi squanders no time in turning to her once again, apparently eager to revive their conversation. Not that she’s opposed to her doing so. Not one bit.
“Where are you off to after this?”
Fingers gliding across the luminous screen of her cellphone, she swiftly retrieves her boarding pass and shows it to her. Ordinarily, wholeheartedly appreciative of her privacy, she’d not be so willing to let another pair of eyes peruse the details currently displayed upon her device. That is, not a pair of eyes belonging to someone who isn't required to check them. But, for some reason, she has no qualms about making Vi an exception.
“Gate H fifty-four?”
After another moment of continued inspection, Vi parts her lips again. This time, her voice adopts a thoughtful tone.
“Huh.”
Odd. She must have discovered something of interest. Question is, what? Furrowing her navy blue brows, she prompts her to explain.
“What is it?”
With a soft smile forming upon her lips, she gently shakes her head in a dismissive manner.
“Nothing.”
She feels inclined to press the matter, to push Vi to abandon her reticence and provide a real answer. However, Loris returns at that precise moment. Not much time is spent thereafter on socializing, because she’s determined to be present at her designated boarding gate early. She will not sacrifice punctuality at the doorstep of selfish indulgence. It would be embarrassing to miss a flight simply because she lost herself in the radiance of silver eyes. Loath as she absolutely is to leave behind her newest acquaintance, she ultimately does exactly that.
It would be a shame if their paths were to never cross again. Fortunately, such misfortune is not in the cards. In fact, it inevitably becomes abundantly clear why Vi reacted in such a peculiar reaction to her boarding pass details.
Just as she’s settling in her seat beside a window, a familiar face appears to her right. Raising her brows, conveying pleasant surprise, she acknowledges the unexpected appearance of none other than Vi herself.
“You again.”
Like the gossamer wings of a butterfly, her heart flutters as Vi claims the middle seat. The only seat tucked between her own and the aisle seat. Entirely playful in nature, a smirk lands upon Vi’s lips.
“Hope you didn’t get tired of me already.”
Quickly, perhaps too quickly, she dispels the absurd notion aloud.
“Of course not.”
How in the world could she ever tire of Vi? She hasn’t found her to be exasperating in the slightest. No, rather than an annoyance to be avoided, she’s a source of irresistible fascination. If anything, she’s delighted by this turn of events. Not only will she have access to an incredible view of the world that they’ll soon be high above, but she’ll be sitting next to the most enthralling person that she’s encountered in quite some time.
“So, what has you on this plane?”
Choosing to be straightforward and omit unnecessary details, she releases just a single word.
“Family.”
But, she’s far more interested in learning more about Vi than she is in unveiling details surrounding her own life. So, she doesn’t refrain from shifting the focus away from herself and toward Vi.
“What about you? Visiting a girlfriend?”
Whether it’s her brazenness itself or it’s the particular guess that she’s hazarded, something about her response inadvertently steals a chuckle from the pink-haired passenger. There’s a weightlessness to her laughter, reminding her of a kite flying across the bluest sky.
“No, there’s no one like that in the picture right now.”
Right now…
Which could mean that she’s open to the prospect of changing that at some point.
“My reason is the same as yours, actually. Visiting family.”
An ordinary answer that immediately sows seeds of curiosity within her mind. How big is Vi’s family? Are both of her parents in the picture? Does she have any siblings? If so, is she an older sibling? Or younger?
None of those queries make it to her tongue, though. Not right now, at least. Rather than ask a single one of them, she chooses to do something a little more presumptuous.
…Alright, more than a little.
After bringing up her own contact page within her cellphone’s collection of contacts, she offers the device to Vi in the hope that she’ll save her number on her own phone.
“Here.”
Tugging at one of the corners of Vi’s lips, a smile conveys both amusement and mild surprise simultaneously. While it remains in place, she accepts the phone being handed to her.
“We haven’t even taken off and you’re already giving me your number?”
A sheepishness tries to rise within her, but it’s no match for her resolve. She knows exactly what she wants, and she refuses to shy away from that desire. She is unequivocally certain of herself. She is entirely sure of her keen interest in keeping Vi in her life in some capacity. Due to this, due to her own unfaltering conviction, she does not backtrack. Instead, she confidently confirms what Vi has no doubt already gathered.
“I realize I’m being forward. But, I see no reason to wait. A flight can’t convince me of what I’m already sure of.”
The corners of her lips rise, forming what is intended to be a smile imbued with authentic hope.
“I want to see you again.”
She swears that she witnesses the mirroring of her own hope within those silver eyes of Vi’s. As well as the surfacing of gratification. A happiness suggesting that she too is enticed by the idea of seeing where this feeling between them, like to puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together, will lead.
“Same here, Cupcake.”
A reply that makes her feel fantastic.