Chapter Text
Usually, for Caitlyn, things got messy after having sex. Messages would get mixed, lines would get crossed, Caitlyn's impregnable personality-shield would zap anyone who came too close.
“C-close,” Caitlyn moaned, rocking back on the tongue that had been servicing her for the last ten minutes. Behind Caitlyn's closed eyes, she saw pink hair and a crooked jaw and a truly luscious arse packed tight and biteable into a jockstrap. Rocking and rocking and rocking into her. “Fuck, I'm gonna come.”
Long, sharp nails dug into Caitlyn's thighs, snapping her out of her fantasy. She looked over her shoulder and saw platinum blonde hair and a bony behind. But it was too late. Evelynn’s tongue shoved her into an orgasm, and the orgasm shoved Caitlyn's brain into cursing, “Fuck, Vi!”
“Bitch!” Evelynn started laughing, pulling away from Caitlyn's pussy with a slick sound and forcing Caitlyn to ride the orgasm out on her own fingers.
“Sorry,” Caitlyn sighed when she finally got her bearings.
Making things messy during sex was a first. Caitlyn saw sex as more of a meditative exercise to remember what it was like to feel alive. Her mind was normally clear when she enjoyed her shot of dopamine. But these days, her mind was very rarely clear and very often full of Vi Nealy smiling at her.
Talking to her about the Fissures. Comparing her to Taylor. Being cute even though Caitlyn's plan to get caught with Evelynn worked like a charm. Slipping through Caitlyn's personality-shield like an oil slick.
Evelynn hid a laugh in the cum towel she was scrubbing her mouth with. “Vi? Really? The pet butch?”
Caitlyn huffed, giving her poor knees a rest and flopping onto her back. Getting eaten out from behind used to be easier, before she turned thirty. “What's wrong with Vi?”
“Oh, nothing.” Evelynn flopped down next to Caitlyn on the bed, somehow already on Vi's Instagram feed. “I wouldn't mind sitting on that sweet face. I just didn't think you were into… golden retrievers.”
“She's more than that.” Caitlyn nudged Evelynn with her hip, twisting around to grab her own phone from the nightstand. It wasn't hard to find, since it was still playing her sex playlist (i.e. one indie song on repeat).
“Is she?” Evelynn arched a plucked, bleached eyebrow. “Then why are you here with me?”
Caitlyn blinked. “Well. It's your last day before the tour starts. It's what we always do.”
“Babe. How romantic,” Evelynn said with an eye roll, fixing her makeup in her selfie camera. Caitlyn saw her own shoulder on Evelynn's screen, her dark hair spilling over it messily.
Suddenly inspired, she opened her own camera and posed for a dewy, smudged-lipstick post-coital selfie. She hadn't cut her hair since the accident and it was living its best life.
Evelynn shoved her face into the frame, sticking out a tongue that must have felt at least a little tired. Caitlyn snapped a few pics of them together, then almost automatically opened Instagram to post the least risqué one.
Her fingers froze as soon as the app opened. Vi had a new story. Unseen footage. The holy grail. A mirror selfie. Mythical Pokémon-level rare: a mirror selfie in formalwear. Inexplicably shy, Caitlyn made sure Evelynn was distracted by her own phone before she started ogling.
Vi was currently out and about in the world, presumably in the same city as Caitlyn, traipsing around in a pair of extremely tight, mid-rise dress pants. They would have exposed her actual belly button if she weren't wearing a spaghetti-strapped bodysuit under it, the square neck of which accentuated her pecs and inked shoulders. Half-dressed formalwear mirror selfie.
Vi was showing a dark blue jacket to the camera, like she wanted to consult the Internet about fashion instead of just posting a rude thirst trap to derail Caitlyn's whole day.
Caitlyn was almost too dizzy to read the caption.
3 days til the Zaun Firelights 2025 Fundraiser! #SupportSocialWorkers
Tie or no tie for my speech?
A big smile snuck onto Caitlyn's face. The normal horniness evoked by Vi was accompanied by something new. When Caitlyn realised that Vi had taken her advice about the speech, she felt… pride. Persistent pride. Glowing in the chest pride. Chappel Roan pride.
Caitlyn knew that if she opened her text history with Vi, she'd see a lot of sad, lonely messages like sorry my family crashed arcade night 👿 and I had a good time 🕺 and thinking about how you looked yesterday and haven't heard from you and its Vi btw.
What she wouldn't see was a reply from herself, not even to put Vi out of her misery.
Caitlyn knew this, and she knew she had her reasons to avoid Vi, but knowing things never quelled the urge to tell Vi she was beautiful inside and out. So instead of dealing with the chat history, she DM’d Vi, which she imagined gave her a professional, cool air.
K8: You took my advice.
Vi didn't reply.
Caitlyn blinked.
Vi still didn't reply. Vi was online. She'd just posted, for fuck’s sake. She was online and she wasn't replying to Caitlyn. This had to be the lowest moment of her life.
She couldn't believe she put so many girls, Vi included, through this atrocity. Her first instinct was to go ahead with her plan to post Caitelynn content, since Vi Nealy could not possibly ignore that, but she hesitated. Perhaps she was getting soft with old age.
The recent orgasm or the… pride thing changed her mind. Yes, it was cringe to send multiple messages in a row, but Caitlyn was the one who told Vi not to fear being judged. And Vi herself was a chronic overtexter, anyway.
K8: Tie is old-fashioned. Go for a short gold chain.
Still no reply.
Caitlyn's left eye twitched. This must have been what Taylor felt like when she wrote Evermore.
Caitlyn nudged Evelynn's shoulder again, drawing her attention away from her phone. “Wanna go shopping?”
“Like, physically? What kind of shopping?”
“Seducing an angel shopping.”
Evelynn smirked at her, now intrigued. “Saying the wrong name during sex shopping?”
“Feel guilty about it later shopping.”
“Damn, bitch.”
*
Caitlyn was not overdressed for this gala. She wasn't underdressed for this gala. She was simply on it.
Or, she was simply a product of a political family with a lot of experience in fundraising. Her navy blue suitpants were tailored to perfection. Well, the entire suit was tailored to perfection, but tonight she opted to drape the jacket over her shoulders and wear a stark white silk camisole underneath. A gold necklace sat just right over the hollow of her throat. Nude lipstick, thick mascara, casual ponytail, understated but still hot.
The finishing touch was Evelynn's stroke of genius: new glasses. The frames were the same delicate gold as her necklace, making her eyes pop without drawing attention to the prosthetic one.
Firelights Fostering hosted this year's gala at a hotel ballroom in Lower Piltover, which Caitlyn briefly hoped had been donated to them for the night. She could easily investigate this, but when she walked through the grand double doors in her suit and glasses, all she cared about was being seen by Vi.
She was prepared for any reaction, having practiced with her chauffeur on the way here. Vi would be very surprised to see her. If she didn't know anything about Kiramman Archives, there was no way she knew Caitlyn was a gold-level Firelights donor. Vi's pretty eyes would probably widen, and she'd give Caitlyn the customary horny once-over, and she'd say—my hero! I owe this huge career opportunity to you! Let's go on a real date! What? Powder? I hardly know ‘er!
Of course, Vi's pretty eyes could also narrow, and she'd still give Caitlyn the customary horny once-over, but she'd say—there are no morally conscionable old-money millionaires! How dare you use a charity event for orphans to try and get laid! Draping the jacket makes you look like an asshole!
Driven solely by anxiety, Caitlyn did a full spin in her high heels and headed straight for the W/C before she could even catch a glimpse of pink hair and pretty eyes. She'd do a breathing exercise, maybe pull the noise cancelling headphones out of her Louis Vuitton. She wouldn't panic about any golden retrievers.
Of course, as soon as she stepped into the bathroom, she saw Vi and her literal golden retriever.
Well, Blondie wasn't actually there, but the scene Caitlyn had walked in on was even worse. Vi was at the sink, practicing her speech in front of the mirror, with a picture of her dog open on her phone… for… moral support?
Somewhere on her private jet, Evelynn probably cackled.
“Are you zooming Blondie?” Caitlyn questioned, wondering if her new fake glasses were failing her.
Vi’s pretty eyes didn't widen or narrow. She pulled a complete freeze reaction, blinking at Caitlyn through the mirror almost like she didn't believe Caitlyn was really there. Like she and her sexy outfit would disappear if she blinked.
“We don't zoom past 5PM,” Vi said eventually, like it was obvious.
She plucked her phone from the sink and double tapped it, zooming the picture out. Caitlyn got closer behind Vi, easily mongoosing over her shoulder while Vi watched her in the mirror.
The full picture was actually of a gigantic man, rough and rugged, yet his eyes were nothing but soft when he posed with a much-younger Blondie in his arms. From one glance Caitlyn could place him on a historical timeline. The type of out-of-focus equipment behind him told Caitlyn which mine he worked at, which corporate overlord sacked him after making him ill. It was the same mine as the author of her manuscript.
Vi placed her thumb over the man's chest, like she could touch him through her phone screen. Caitlyn looked back at Vi through the mirror, bursting with curiosity. To have her two current special interests (Vi and old miners) conflate was unexpected. “Who's that?”
“My foster dad,” Vi answered, probably unaware of how much she was riling Caitlyn up. “He used to give me pep talks before games. You've got a good heart, Vi. Win it for your team, Vi. The family's counting on you, Vi.”
“That's… sweet?” Caitlyn hesitated, having no experience with motivational speeches or being counted on. “Do you need a pep talk?”
“That's why you're here?” Vi looked up, suddenly catching Caitlyn's eye in the mirror. Oh.
She took out all her piercings. Caitlyn had to blink twice to make sure she wasn't imagining things. Her nose, her lip, her ears. All naked.
Soft. Pink. Kissable. If it weren't for her face tattoo, Caitlyn would have forgotten her name, as well as her own. So it was pretty inconvenient that Vi was speaking to her.
“I mean…” Caitlyn cleared her throat, awkward. All she wanted was for Vi to check out her sexy outfit, not actually interact with her. “Isn’t your family here? Where's your sister?”
Vi tracked her with suspicious eyes. “I told ‘em to stay with the baby. No need to fuss over me.”
Caitlyn scoffed. Of course Bitch Sister, who took it upon herself to call Caitlyn a whore to her face in alleged support of Vi, wouldn't be here to actually support Vi when she was brooding in the bathroom.
“Did something go down between you two?” Vi asked, apparently reading Caitlyn's thoughts.
Caitlyn tucked her perfectly tousled just-slipped-out-of-the-ponytail wispies behind her ear, hoping to distract Vi with her, you know, wiles. She gave Vi a lingering look, not unlike she gave that old photo, clocking the extremely tight, mid rise dress pants. Her dark blue suit jacket, which Caitlyn didn't match on purpose, was only half-buttoned, showing off a masc gold chain draped on her masc collarbones.
Ha! She did read Caitlyn's DM! Baby let the games begin! It was more smug than flattering when she said, “You look handsome. I can give you a pep talk about that.”
“Eh, tell me something I don't know,” Vi said, sounding casual. Maybe she was trying to fool the mirror, because Caitlyn was not buying the cocky act. She'd studied Vi's selfies for too long.
Vi was upset. Vi was hiding in a bathroom for a reason, and maybe Caitlyn didn't come here for this, nor was she the most qualified in the building, but she was going to try to make it better.
“You're the most charismatic person I know,” Caitlyn said matter-of-factly, again not nailing the flattery thing. “Don’t be nervous.”
Vi shrugged off her words, hands tensing up on the sink. Caitlyn was close enough behind her to notice her shoulders hitching. “Kind of a gaslighty thing to say in a ballroom full of mental health professionals, Cupcake.”
“It's not gaslighting if it's true,” Caitlyn argued. “Just look at the demographic analysis of your social media following. Everyone in this city loves you.”
Caitlyn thought it was a bullseye, a touchdown, the perfect thing to say that would comfort Vi. She was wrong.
She might have known where Vi's foster dad worked, and she might have known the number of freckles dusted on Vi’s unbearably naked left ear, but she didn't know much about social cues.
Vi practically exploded on her. “It’s too much pressure, okay?! You—all of you put me on this pedestal, I'm sick of it!”
Caitlyn blinked, instantly remembering saying the wrong name during sex. Yes, she put Vi on a pedestal. But, to be fair, she only did so when her goal was to highlight her own unworthiness. She observed Vi's goodness from the shadows. Maybe Jinx was guilty of the same crime. Supporting Vi only when it was behind her back.
Caitlyn raised her hand to touch Vi's angry shoulder, but over-thought it at the last second and hovered. “I… I assure you, as the most beloathed, I know you are the most—”
“Jesus, Caitlyn, this isn't about you! It's about him!” Vi pointed at her phone angrily, where her foster father was still grinning.
“Oh.”
This time she touched Vi's back unapologetically. She wouldn't be scared off that easily. Before Vi could comment on it, Caitlyn said, “A dyke with daddy issues? Tell me something I don't know.”
Vi laughed despite herself. She let out a long breath, deflating those muscles against Caitlyn's palm. “Sorry,” she said, like Caitlyn could be fazed by being yelled at. “It’s not my usual move, trauma dumping.”
No, Caitlyn imagined that people on pedestals did not get to talk about their own trauma often enough. In fact, Vi’s job description on LinkedIn practically yelled secondary trauma.
Through one mental hoop jump, Caitlyn arrived at the surprising conclusion that she and Vi weren't all that different when it came to the heart of the matter. Pretending to be invincible so the Guilt couldn't catch them.
“Don’t apologise. I might not be a mental health professional, but I can handle your trauma. God knows my own trauma does not spare you. I didn't even know leaving someone on read could feel so… anyway,” Caitlyn coughed, remembering Vi literally said this wasn't about her. “Please, dump. I mean, tell me your origin story.”
Vi let out another long, preparatory exhale. “The last time I had to give a big speech was at this guy's funeral. Wait, is it an origin story if I was twenty-two?”
“Depends on how good the eulogy was.”
Vi shook her head. “I chickened out during the eulogies. I was crying too bad, and… honestly, I kept waiting for him to walk through the door. But after reading the kadish—well, after literally filling the grave… this speech came pouring outta me.”
Caitlyn could imagine it. Strong and weepy Vi, letting out her emotions in a way Caitlyn never could. Saying goodbye like Caitlyn never did.
I can't see, mum!
That was the last thing she said to Cassandra. She couldn't speak at the funeral. Didn't utter a single word, not even by herself in front of the casket. Her throat was full.
She wrote letters and burned them. She listened to Folkmore on vinyl. She didn't speak to anyone—for weeks—until she found the support group at the hospital, and even then she didn't give a big speech. Just the five words that had been ringing between her ears since the other car hit them: I was behind the wheel.
“Did it give you closure?” Caitlyn asked, morbidly curious. “Did it fix it?”
“I don't think closure is something you give or receive,” Vi admitted with a shrug. “As a professional orphan, I can tell you the hole gets smaller, but you never fill it.”
Caitlyn bit her lip, not liking that answer at all. Surely it was possible to swallow your grief. It was her responsibility to get over it. She was too busy not to.
Instead of explaining all that, Caitlyn said, “I have never been accused of being hard to fill, darling.”
Vi looked at Caitlyn through the mirror, and the sadness lifted a little off of her naked face. “Was that a dirty joke?”
“With these glasses?” Caitlyn shook her head. “I would never.”
“Mhmm.” Vi smirked at her, and finally, after what must have been a thousand years, she turned around to face Caitlyn.
“Don't think I didn't notice the sexy fake glasses,” Vi added. They were startlingly close, Vi leaning back against the sink in her tight pants.
The silence started heavy, but then Caitlyn realized Vi was simply speechlessly staring down Caitlyn's cami. “Violet.”
Vi looked back up at her, adorably sheepish under her bangs. “Yeah?”
“May I remind you that tonight, you're not speaking to your dead dad. Your family isn't even here.”
“Damn, rub it in.”
“I mean, you're just talking to rich arseholes. And I have a foolproof method to get through that.”
Not even bothering to look up from Caitlyn's cleavage, Vi frowned doubtfully. “Is it picturing everyone naked? ‘cause that ship has—”
“It is not!” Caitlyn interrupted, rolling her eyes. She brought her purse up and opened it in the scant space between them, blocking Vi's view of her tits.
Vi sounded even more doubtful when she said, “Is it weed?”
“I have other interests, you know,” Caitlyn reprimanded her.
“Yeah, you contain multitudes, we know.”
Reaching into the depths of her purse, she found what she wanted and dangled it in front of Vi's nose victoriously.
Vi stared at the chocolate bar without taking it. “Okay, Professor Lupin. Sure it's not laced?”
Outraged, Caitlyn made to bury the chocolate back in the purse, but Vi held her wrist suddenly, keeping the candy close. Caitlyn sputtered. “It's just chocolate! What, you don't do carbs after 5PM?”
“Carbs aren’t evil,” Vi pointed out. “And I don't wanna mess up my lipstick.”
So not a hard no. Still allowing Vi's grip, Caitlyn turned her hand and slowly fingered the wrapper open, peeling it down to disrobe the chocolate. Vi's pretty eyes widened. She wanted it. “I'll fix your makeup for you, if you eat it.”
Vi had the strangest reaction. Unseen footage. The new holy grail. Her naked face blushed. “You would do my makeup?”
Caitlyn had grown so used to the dour, confident set of Vi's jaw, it was something else to see her softy confused. “Yes? I'm not a monster, Violet.”
Vi's blush didn't fade, and her gaze seemed even softer, borderline puppyish. “That's the nicest thing I ever heard you say about yourself.”
For the first time since her seventeenth birthday party, Caitlyn blushed back. Her invincibility was really being tested with all this positive attention. “Do you want a bite or not?”
Vi dropped her head and bit indelicately into the chocolate still in Caitlyn's left hand. Not breaking off a square, not leaning back from Caitlyn. Just a huge dinosaur chomp. It almost felt like she was biting into the wrist she still held captive. It almost felt like she was biting into Caitlyn's beating heart, defences breached.
What was it about Vi Nealy?
Vi's lipstick wasn't smudged at all when she swallowed, not even after she licked her lips. But Caitlyn wasn't going to tell her that. Thankfully, Vi was facing away from the mirror at that moment.
Caitlyn slipped her left hand from Vi's grasp, rewrapping the chocolate and stashing it in her purse. She immediately fished for her emergency backup makeup back, knowing her own lipstick of the night would not do Vi's lips justice.
She looked down as she frisked her purse, grabbing three different tubes for Vi to choose from. At least, the plan was for her to choose. In reality, when Caitlyn looked back up, Vi's pretty eyes were already closed.
Caitlyn could have sighed from how beautiful she was, obsessed with her freckles and her scars and her eyelashes. But that was old news. What Vi was conveying now was… trust. By shutting her eyes. By leaning in. By telling her secrets.
How often did this woman, who apologised for being upset about her dad's funeral, let someone else take care of her?
Caitlyn wasn't thinking of her own unworthiness anymore. She wasn't even thinking about the car accident. The only thing on her mind was Vi's scarred mouth.
Ruby. That was Vi's colour. Caitlyn twisted the tube open, and unceremoniously trapped Vi's mouth between her thumb and trigger finger. Pressing on Vi's (blushing!) cheeks, Caitlyn tried not to enjoy the shape of her. This wasn't about her, after all.
“Open,” Caitlyn instructed.
Vi obeyed generously, mouth dropping open, quick tongue swiping over her lower lip on instinct. Caitlyn forgot her name all over again. The last time they kissed, Vi was wearing the piercing. Caitlyn would feel more of her now. She would follow her tongue with her own. She would devour her.
On another instinct, Caitlyn said, “Very good.”
Vi's eyes snapped open, no doubt catching Caitlyn staring at her mouth like she wanted to steal it. Hyperfocusing on each other's lips was bad enough; when Vi looked up into Caitlyn's eyes, it was way worse.
It was earnest. “You never told me why you're here.”
Caitlyn told the truth in that moment, sick of lying to this lovely creature. She gestured to her sexy outfit, carefully curated by style icon Evelynn Agony herself. “For you, duh.”
Vi made a hurt little noise, but she was starting to smile. “It's a shame you don't see how sweet you are.”
Caitlyn tried not to smile back. “Was that a joke about my fake glasses?”
The smile spread on Vi's face like a sunrise. “I would never joke about you wearing sexy glasses.”
Vi's hand was large. When she reached up to gently take the glasses off of Caitlyn's nose, her hand caressed her cheek. Her smile was even more dazzling when looked at directly. Caitlyn wanted to complain about the theft, but honestly, she couldn't string two words together so close to the girl of her dreams.
The last time they kissed was the last time for a reason. But reason was easily sacrificed, and lipstick even more so.
Caitlyn kissed Vi, gentle and afraid. Caitlyn’s hand just barely touched Vi's neck, soft and timid. This wasn't the way she touched Evelynn, even when she imagined Evelynn was Vi.
Vi made a sound that had been buried in her since summer, and Caitlyn finally pressed deeper, parting Vi's gorgeous, naked lips. It wasn't that scary, really. It was familiar.
Caitlyn reimagined the whole world in this kiss—a world where she'd reached out to Vi after fucking her face, where she'd texted Vi instead of creepily leaving her number in a DM, where she hadn't gotten a hickey at the hanukkah party, where she had accepted the stuffed mongoose.
How often did Vi put her trust in Caitlyn's hands—only to have it fumbled?
“Vi,” Caitlyn huffed against her lips, moving back an inch that felt like a mile. “You should know—”
“Cait,” she cut off her guilt like it hurt her to not be kissed. “I don't fucking care.”
Vi grabbed Caitlyn's waist and pinned her to the wall and kissed her, as relentless as Caitlyn had been careful. It wasn't a bad surprise. It was like expecting rep (TV) and getting TTPD. Or like getting TTPD and then getting more TTPD exactly two hours later.
Caitlyn gasped, feeling the artfully-draped jacket slip off of her shoulders, exposing the thin straps of her shirt. This felt familiar too, because it happened before. The wall fetish. “Is this your only move?” Caitlyn huffed.
Vi smirked at her, pressing their chests together. “It's a good move.”
Caitlyn's nipples didn't disagree. “Remember last time? What I asked?”
With a truly detestable accent, Vi copied her word for word: “It’s herd for a woman of my height to get pro’erly railed against a woll.”
Great, so the woman who didn't even remember she was being ghosted, remembered the shit Caitlyn said after getting head. “I asked—”
“I know what you asked,” Vi husked, and just to prove it, bent her knees and lifted Caitlyn like she weighed nothing.
Bitch.
Caitlyn arched her back a little to put extra weight on Vi's hips, just to see if she intended on holding her up forever, and when Vi didn't even budge, Caitlyn decided to kiss her again. Vi moaned in gratitude. They should have been doing this forever. Why weren't they doing this forever? Caitlyn was going to do this forever—
“Oh, fuck no,” Caitlyn said, stopping everything as soon as she felt Vi’s fingers in her hair.
“Huh?” Vi asked, kiss-hazy.
“Not the hair. It took hours.”
Despite Vi literally trapping her between a wall and a hard place, Caitlyn hadn't felt scared. She knew that because she was scared now. Vi's smirk was dangerous and dastardly. “Hours? Hmm.”
“Violet, don’t—”
Just like she stole Caitlyn's sexy glasses, she now stole her hair tie and collapsed the integrity of the understated-but-still-hot casual ponytail. Not only that, she showed the hair tie to Caitlyn, then stretched it out and out until it snapped, just from the force of her thick fingers.
Caitlyn wanted to be snapped like that. But, even though she came to terms with Vi beating her at DDR, she couldn't beat her at this. “I have more in my purse, you know,” Caitlyn claimed.
“Oh, I know. But did you bring your turtleneck?”
Before Caitlyn could even get to the bottom of that, Vi grabbed her by the hair, tilted her head just so, and put her mouth on Caitlyn's neck. Rocking and rocking and rocking into her.
Caitlyn couldn't possibly beat this. She wrapped herself around Vi and moaned her name, not caring (if she ever truly cared at all) that Vi's fist was tight in her hair, ruining even the potential of an updo. She didn't even care that Vi was fiercely sucking a lovebite on her throat and turning the vampire metaphor against her.
She wanted to be snapped like that. She wanted more. She wanted Vi to rip her cami in half and grab her arse. She wanted her to suck on her tits instead of bruising her like a… like the bartender… at that exact spot…
Just as guilt started niggling at her, two very distracting things happened: one, Vi stuck her hand down Caitlyn's pants, and two, the door started being banged on from the outside rather than just the inside.
Startled, Vi detached from Caitlyn's throbbing skin and looked at her in alarm. “Oh shit.”
“Good god, Vi!” A woman whisper-shouted through the door. “I hate rushing a girl in the bathroom but you're almost up!”
“Sorry Chantelle!” Vi called out, unfortunately setting Caitlyn back down on the floor, half-fingered and kissed-out. Lowering her voice, she said, “Sorry, Cupcake.”
Caitlyn cleared her throat, so chill and completely unruffled by being Vi's for two minutes. It wasn't like she'd do anything for thirty more seconds of it, certainly not murder Vi's boss. No, Caitlyn was embracing her own redemption arc.
“I told you not to apologize,” Caitlyn said, surprised by how low her own voice came out.
Vi leaned their foreheads together, like she didn't even care she'd fucked Caitlyn's wispies up. “You also said don't be nervous.”
“And are you?”
Vi smiled, and kissed her on the mouth just once, and said, “How could I be? Your method is foolproof.”
Caitlyn smiled back, relentless and shy at the same time. Did she get closure? Did she fix it? Is she fixed?
Vi didn't have the answer, since the question hadn't been asked. Instead, she said, “Leave your hair down, gorgeous.”
Vi fluffed up her own hair, showing off that insanely sensual left ear, and opened the bathroom door. The last thing she did to Caitlyn before leaving was wink at her and say, “You should fix your lipstick though.”
Fuck.
That was a good move.
*
Vi's speech was moving, funny and articulate. Caitlyn was sure of this despite not hearing a word of it. Her ears were full of cotton and her eyes were glued to Vi's breasts—not because she was insufferably horny for her, but because Vi had tucked Caitlyn's 500 dollar fake glasses into her breast pocket. A peek of gold over her heart that represented everything.
Caitlyn looked at the stage and saw someone beautiful, confident, charming—but she didn't forget the anxious, angry woman she'd spoken to in the bathroom. And if those two versions of Vi could coexist, maybe there was a version of Caitlyn that could be someone's girlfriend. If Caitlyn saw so much more in Vi, then maybe, just maybe, it was within the realm of possibility that Vi saw so much more in Caitlyn.
That Vi had found a reason to give her a shot. Maybe Caitlyn knowing the reason didn't matter as much as Vi knowing it.
For the first time since her seventeenth birthday, Caitlyn was giddy. She had it all figured out. She'd assessed all the timelines and realized exactly when she went wrong with Vi. All that was left was to tell her, unambiguously, how she felt.
All that was left was giving someone the opportunity to hurt Caitlyn.
Easy peasy.
*
Caitlyn clapped louder than anyone when Vi finished, and their eyes met over the crowd. Caitlyn's pulse pounded. She knew what Vi was thinking, she was sure of it. That thing between them, that drew them to each other even when everything was going wrong, it was wordless.
Maybe nothing really needed to be said, after all. Vi hopped off the stage and walked straight towards her.
*
Caitlyn could kiss her. Now that they'd kissed once—it was only logical to continue. Caitlyn didn't feel the need to manufacture the perfect conditions for a perfect kiss that would heal her and make the accident make sense.
Right?
She just wanted to be Vi's for two more minutes. And Vi wouldn't reject her. Caitlyn had the imprint of a hand dryer on her arse to prove it. Vi would say something cheesy about how Caitlyn did leave her hair down. She was probably rehearsing in her head now.
Right?
She didn't have to say it. They didn't have to say anything. They didn't have to commit for more than two minutes.
Right?
*
At the end of the longest walk ever, they didn't kiss. They didn't say anything, either. Because when Vi was three steps away, her boss appeared over her shoulder, and suddenly she was standing between Caitlyn and Vi saying, “Violet! I'd love to introduce you to one of our gold-level donors, Caitlyn Kiramman.”
As long as that walk was, Vi's face fell in just a blink. Her eyebrows scrunched at Caitlyn. “Oh. I… You're a donor.”
Caitlyn flushed. It wasn't how she wanted Vi to find out, but she couldn't really apologize for being rich in front of the woman who signed Vi's checks. “Yes. I—”
“Ms. Kiramman has generously facilitated our non-formal education program!” Chantelle squeaked, making an obviously stressed out face at Vi, clearly not picking up on the fact they not only knew each other—but had an unspoken commitment to go home together later.
Caitlyn looked at Vi, expecting to share a smirk over Chantelle’s head, but Vi was somewhere else. Vi couldn't control her face, not like Caitlyn could and had to, constantly. Her eyebrows were devastated, her naked nose, her pouting lips. Why?
Vi reached up to scratch her head. “I thought you came to like, support me.”
Oh. She let Vi down.
Caitlyn wanted to run to her and kiss her and stop whatever it was that was running in her mind. She knew that something had gone wrong but she didn't know if she should be afraid.
Completely ignoring Vi's boss, Caitlyn declared, “Vi, I meant what I said.”
Vi's eyes narrowed at her. “What did you say? What do you want from me, Caitlyn?”
“I…” All she had to do was follow the script. To tell her, unambiguously, how she felt. All that was left was giving someone the opportunity to hurt Caitlyn.
But she froze. Her throat was too full. Caitlyn's trauma caught up to her in a room full of mental health professionals, because of course she was going to fuck this up, she was always going to fuck this up, she couldn't utter a single word, because she was driving the car.
Even if Caitlyn could have transcended herself, it was too late. She'd stuttered, and for the first time between them, Vi was the one who closed up. Vi wanted the last word.
“You know what?” Vi asked her, dour. “Shame on me.”
“Violet,” Caitlyn started, voice desperate to be heard, but Vi cut her off again.
“Thank you for your support, Ms. Kiramman,” Vi said with an artificial smile, nodding at her boss smoothly. “And thank you for the chance to speak. I need some air, if you don't mind.”
Vi's boss gestured urgently for Vi to leave the premises, seeing her as a schmoozing obstacle rather than someone who just gave Caitlyn a death by a thousand cuts.
And by the time Caitlyn escaped said schmoozing and ran out of the ballroom, Vi was gone, and only Caitlyn's golden glasses remained safe and stranded on the marble guardrail. Representing everything.