Chapter Text
Vi sucked her fingers clean. Her tongue laved over the remnants of sticky chocolate coating her fingers, gleefully devouring every last crumb of the cake that had been placed in front of her.
Maybe she should’ve felt a sense of disgust over using her hands to eat. Tobias certainly did, given the cautious side eyes he tried not to send her way in between polite sips of tea. She just stared back, defiantly reaching out for another slice.
The sound of stilted conversation filled the background. Caitlyn was filling her father in on their plans to move in. Now that she and Vi had officially finished helping rebuild Piltover after the war, there was little getting in the way of their future together. A two-bedroom apartment near the bridge, with frequent visits to the Firelights, a cat or a dog, depending on who won that little argument. Vi was still sure she could convince her girlfriend to adopt a stray tabby from the streets of Zaun.
“What do you think, darling?”
Vi blinked, her focus breaking on the sweet goodness she had piled onto her plate. She dragged her gaze up to see the expectant look on Caitlyn’s face.
“Yeah… yeah. What Cait said,” she affirmed, not entirely sure what she had just agreed to. Caitlyn just looked at her with an expression of fond indulgence. Maybe Vi was being a little obvious.
“Would you like more?” her benevolent girlfriend asked, reaching for the servants’ bell. Who the fuck has a bell to call for a servant? Who the fuck has servants? “I can ask them to bring—”
“No!” Vi froze at the volume of her own voice.
She wasn’t sure why she felt such an urgent need to refuse. Actually, that was a lie. She knew exactly why such a vehement denial had torn out of her throat.
Since moving into the Kiramman Estate, she had access to food, like, all the time. She was just able to walk into the kitchen and eat. Or ask for food. And someone would bring it to her. Sometimes they even looked happy to do it.
And eat she did.
In the beginning, it was a novelty. Caitlyn had introduced her to a variety of different cuisines, some of which were so good they almost beat Jericho’s fish stew. Vi ate for the sake of experiencing everything that had been unavailable in the Undercity.
Then, it became a comfort thing. Every time she felt the familiar pang of longing for Powder, for Vander, for Mylo and Claggor and her Mom and Dad—
It was just easier to bury the hurt in mountains of food. Even more so since she had promised to cut down on her alcohol intake.
For the first few weeks, it was almost too much. Years of the grey slop she had consumed in Stillwater, followed by the months of mindless drinking, had resulted in little to no ability to handle real food. Everything that she got to eat now was rich, laden with copious amounts of butter, salt, or sugar. Or all three.
The result was the pockets of fat that had appeared in various parts of her body. Her abs, which were previously stark and contoured, were now covered in a layer of plush. Her thighs had grown bigger, causing quite a bit of chafing until Caitlyn had bought her new boxer briefs, which were breathable and not falling into pieces. Even her boobs had grown two whole sizes. Which was how Vi learnt that maybe she wasn’t too fond of the whole “having tits” situation.
All in all, it sucked.
She was used to being fast. Energetic. She could slip her way through most situations, mostly due to her scrappiness but also because her zero percent body fat allowed for a lot of movement. Now she just felt slow, and tired, and hungry all the damn time. She spent her days going through the library, discovering music, and cuddled up in Caitlyn’s massive bed with the frankly gross amount of pillows and blankets, while the Sheriff actually went to work and did something productive. It was like Vi’s body had decided to retire early.
She had tried to cut down on her calories and increase the amount of time she spent in the fancy home gym while Caitlyn was stuck in meetings with the Council in her attempts to rework the judicial system. Unfortunately, Vi’s weakness manifested every time another treat was freely presented to her. She just couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and snatching up the offered luxury. Apparently, years of insecurity would do that to you.
Vi cleared her throat, sitting up just a little to mimic some level of normalcy. “No, I mean… I’m good. Don’t wanna ruin my dinner, you know.”
Caitlyn dropped her hand, giving Vi an understanding nod, although her eyebrows were still pinched in that adorable way. The same way they did when she was working a little too hard on a case. Vi sent the detective her most charming smile.
Tobias cleared his throat, gaining back his daughter’s attention, and mercifully shifting the topic before the interrogation could start. Thank Janna.
Vi turned to look at the plate in her lap again. Suddenly, the creamy layers of candied confections felt like a sickening wrench in her stomach. If she had been alone, she would’ve tossed it, but she didn’t want to alarm Caitlyn, who always seemed to want Vi to consume to her heart’s content.
So she forced the moist sponge past her lips, subtly nibbling on the skin of her thumb in a vain effort to ground herself.
It stuck to her teeth, sinking into the enamel like the rot in Stillwater’s walls. She ground her molars together, trying to swallow the thick sugariness that coated her gums, building into a slab at the entrance of her throat. Every bite felt like it was sapping the energy from her soul, slowing her down into a syrupy mess of fat.
Once the plate could be called sufficiently clean, Vi excused herself in the most normal way she could. She forced herself to kiss Caitlyn’s cheek, trying not to grimace as the scent of cooked cocoa fanned across her skin. Vi almost feared that the smell would be enough to tip the discerning Sheriff off.
She tried to keep her pace casual as she wandered upstairs, sending strained nods to the servants with whom she had found an odd sort of camaraderie over the last few months; largely owing to their Zaunite origins.
Vi could have gone to her and Caitlyn’s bedroom, but she knew that would inevitably leave behind a clue and invite some unwanted questions. Luckily, one of the few perks of the large and cold Kiramman Estate was the plethora of guest rooms.
Vi wasn’t sure what guests warranted over 20 bedrooms with an attached bath, but she had long learned to stop questioning the ways of rich folks, if only for the fear that Cassandra Kiramman’s ghost would accidentally be summoned to scold her for not holding her tongue. Or choosing the right fork, knowing the deceased matriarch.
Her feet thumped against the pristine marble flooring as she traversed through the maze-like corridors, growing quicker in pace the farther away she got from the main areas. She could feel the concoction in her stomach bubbling hotly, making her organs squirm against each other.
She made it just in time as she threw the doors open of one of the guest rooms, booking it to the ensuite before collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet. She didn’t even need to force herself; her diaphragm immediately seized as her stomach rejected the snack she had so greedily stuffed into her mouth a few minutes ago.
Her shaky hands grasped the edges of the seat, clenched so tight she feared that she might crack the perfect porcelain for a moment. Her head was spinning, her oesophagus burned, and she was pretty sure the edges of her vision were starting to burst with white and black stars. At least she felt lighter. At least the weight building in the pit of her stomach was finally gone.
Vi gasped as the revulsions finally stopped, collapsing against the tiled floor like someone had just breathed new life into her. Her chest heaved, which only served to remind her of her new, unwillingly gained friends. She groaned, turning her gaze back to the ceiling, her arms and legs splayed out in total surrender.
Maybe she could make this work.