Chapter Text
Vi began to make art just a few months ago. It had always been Powder and Ekko’s thing, so she’d left it to them, watching from afar as they laughed over each other’s doodles.
After all, her hands were made to hurt, Vi would think back then. To destroy. Not create and heal.
But after the war, Vi was suddenly left with hours upon hours of free time. Her whole life up to that point was spent protecting those she loved and fighting those she hated. But now… she didn’t need to. The peace was nice, but silent. The type of silence that made your ears ring after a while.
One day, she’d wandered around the Kiramman library (yes, they had a whole ass library,) and found an art book. She had spent the day reading it, out of curiosity, and eventually scrounged around until she came upon a blank sketchbook.
Vi had been hesitant to show Caitlyn her sketches, but once she did, she was met with nothing but encouragement and compliments, and now an entire corner of their room was home to Vi’s supplies. An easel, smocks, sketchbooks, brush sets, canvases, and more different kinds of paints than Vi knew existed - watercolors, gouaches, acrylics, the list went on and on - but she mostly stuck with the oil paints.
Right now, she was simply draped over the windowsill with a sketchbook and a pencil. It was calming, just listening to the scratch of her pencil on paper and having to angle herself to chase the last of the sun’s fading light. The sketch certainly wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. Her subject was beautiful, lying peacefully on the silky sheets of their bed, bathed in the waning golds of the setting sun.
Vi glanced up occasionally before returning to her sketch, the pencil lines slowly getting darker as she grew more confident.
But she was so focused on the sketch that she didn’t hear her subject getting up and sneaking up behind her. Vi only realized when she whispered into her ear, “you’re drawing me again?”
Vi yelped and whipped around, her pencil clattering to the floor and her sketchbook snapping shut like an alligator’s jaws. “God, Cait! You fuckin’ ninja.”
“Not really. I nearly knocked over a plant getting up.” Caitlyn shrugged and smiled her gap-toothed grin as she sat next to Vi. “You’re just very focused. It’s quite cute, actually.”
“Wha- I am not cute!” Vi protested.
“Okay, okay, you’re right, you’re not cute,” Caitlyn conceded, reaching out and taking Vi’s free hand, “you’re adorable, actually.”
“You’re impossible, cupcake.”
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Am I not an unhinged mongoose anymore?”
“Only if I’m not an angry oil slick.” Vi ran a hand through her pink, undyed hair.
The two grinned at each other before bursting out laughing. Vi loved hearing Caitlyn’s laugh. Her true laugh, that is, not the light, forced chuckle she pulled when people at galas gave the dryest excuse for a joke Vi had ever heard.
She would be lying if she said hearing Caitlyn’s real laugh didn’t make Vi’s day. It was music to her ears, as corny as it sounds. A melody that only she got to hear. Caitlyn’s wheezes and snorts and unapologetic grins were their own little secret.
Once they recovered, Caitlyn retrieved Vi’s sketchbook and pencil from the floor. She held onto the book for a moment, glancing at Vi, a silent question in her cerulean gaze. Vi nodded and Caitlyn opened it, flipping until she found the sketch.
“It’s beautiful,” Caitlyn breathed, gently brushing a few eraser shavings from the page as if it was a precious artifact.
“Nah, ‘s not that great,” Vi muttered, shyly rubbing the back of her neck.
“It is, Violet,” Caitlyn insisted, taking her hand and looking into Vi’s eyes, “you’ve been improving at an insanely fast pace. At this rate, I would commission you for the next Kiramman portrait.”
Would. But hopefully I won’t, because I want you to be in it. Caitlyn tightened her grip on Vi’s hand, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken. Her own little secret that she could keep until the time was right.
“Well, then, maybe I should paint this one,” Vi said with a smile, taking her sketchbook back and leaning on Caitlyn’s shoulder, “I’m thinking… oils with a watercolor background.”
“Mixing mediums? How adventurous.”
“We’ve already mixed oil and water once. How hard could it be?”