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Caitlyn has been gone for six hours.
This is not, by itself, an unusual occurrence. Her work often keeps her out of the mansion for hours, sometimes over night until Vi has to bodily drag her out of the office. Long nights that leave her fingers ink stained and her shoulders so tense Vi has to cover them with broad palms and let the heat ease the knots under soft skin.
Caitlyn is dutiful and she's atoning, even years after everything. She'll never stop atoning, Vi knows. That's just who she is. And she loves her.
Which makes this time, this absence all the harder. Because Caitlyn has been gone for six hours and it will be another 28 days and 10 hours, give or take, until she returns. Vi feels strangely like she's back in Stillwater, counting the days, the minutes. The breaths in the aching silence of the empty mansion.
She's visiting family in Ionia. Tobias is with her. Vi had seen her off that morning, six hours and thirty-two minutes ago, watching the airship carry her out of reach. She'd seen her off with a kiss so thorough she wouldn’t be surprised if it's in the papers tomorrow, clippings to keep for when Caitlyn comes back to her.
And Vi is happy for her. She really is. Caitlyn is dutiful and a family person and she's been too much of one and not enough of the other for far too long. Now, with very little family left in Piltover and many a harrowing memory to keep her company, Vi is glad Caitlyn can see distant cousins and aunts and whatnot. Get out of the city, and out of her head.
It's why she didn't join her.
A month of Caitlyn and her father and their extended family and no ghosts of days passed to haunt her. A vacation.
Vi sighs heavily, her head dropping back against the couch cushion, her eyes roaming over the intricate patterns covering the tall ceilings.
She knows this is ridiculous. She's spent two decades on her own, before ever meeting Caitlyn. They've spent months on different sides of the war. And while Vi wouldn't say she managed, exactly, she at least managed to occupy herself.
Still, she's never gotten used to the quiet. The actual stillness of a life not spent running and beating her fists bloody on everything and everyone in her way.
Truthfully, she just misses her girlfriend. It's juvenile and a bit pathetic and there's something so sweet about the privilege of such a simple desire that Vi can't even reprimand herself for it. She misses her girlfriend. Easy as that.
Only, it's not easy at all. Because now she has to wait for 28 days and 9 hours and 45 minutes to greet her again, and to kiss her silly in front of every fool that comes to witness and to make the papers again.
Vi sighs once more, loud in the echoing sitting room, rolling over and dislodging the book that had been resting on her stomach. She catches it before it hits the floor and sets it down on the nearest table, solid wood and carvings so carefully made she's needed a magnifying glass to see every detail in the past. She loves it. Another thing she never expected from herself. How much she's fallen in love with this mansion, pompous and violently rich though it may be.
It's home now. A real home, with food and warmth and safety. The kind of place they dreamed of as kids.
The book is one of many in the several libraries the building houses and Vi has been reading it for a few days, though not with any deeper thoughts to its contents. It's a book on botany. She's learned to love flowers and the easy joy of watching something grow and blossom.
She's fallen in love with the sun.
And yeah, she's aware that she sounds sappy, even in her own head. It's just that Caitlyn has been there every morning and every night since they both got out of the hospital after—well. After.
So every morning Vi has woken up to warm lips pressed to her spine, mismatched eyes meeting hers and the sunlight filtering through heavy curtains. And she's allowed herself the comfort. Even if they only stay together for minutes because one or both of them have business to attend to, they wake up together.
Vi already dreads having to wake up on her own, in a house too big for her with only the books and records for company.
She reaches for the heavy tome again and aimlessly flicks through it. It's old, as most things are in this city; illustrations in rich colours and cramped cursive handwriting that she can barely decipher. Vi is about to set it down again and take a lap around the gardens when her attention snags on a sheet of paper sticking out near the end.
With a quiet groan she sits up and opens the book properly, her fingers carefully sliding between the frail pages, parting them. A creamy envelope drops into her lap. It's new, that much is easy to tell, and easier yet is recognising the writing in navy ink.
"Caitlyn"
Vi grins to herself, carefully setting the book down and getting comfortable again, letter in hand. She's almost afraid to open it, like she ought to save it for later days when the longing burns in her lungs and makes her limbs tingle.
These recent years have made her greedy.
She tenderly slips the envelope flap free from its confines and admires, as always, the quality of the paper, and the care put into each and every word. With the envelope safely on the table, she unfolds the letter and begins to read.
My dearest Violet,
I have no way of knowing when you might read this, but I don't doubt that you will. When you do, I'll be away and unable to tell you all of this myself.
I already miss you. It sounds silly, and it feels silly as I'm writing this.
You're asleep, out like a light, and I'm leaving in a few days. I'm trying to memorise the way you look right now, in case I wake up in the middle of the night and can't tell right from wrong. You're soft, Vi. I know that's not something you're used to but like this, sound asleep, you look lovely. I have to stop myself from kissing you awake just to see your eyes. I feel mad with it. You've unmade everything I knew about myself, and I am loathe to admit I'm terrified of leaving. Of waking up without you. Of speaking my thoughts into empty air and having no one to hear it, no easy reply, no recipient for my meaningless rambles.
I'm doing it now, aren't I?
Vi, I love you. You know this. It's not a secret. Or, I hope it's not. I tell you often enough. And in case I don’t, here it is again. I love you. I’m whole with you. I fear that every sight I’ve ever fell in love with will seem dull without you seeing it as well. That dishes I used to relish eating on the rare occasions we visited will taste bland if I can’t share them with you. Most of all I fear that I don’t mind it, not at all.
When I return to you, I know I’ll be able to breathe again. Even now, with you close enough to touch, I can feel the distance. I have half a mind to stay home, where I belong, but I know you wouldn’t let me pass the opportunity. So I’m telling you this here, when I’m already away and you can’t make fun of me for needing you as much as I do.
My sweet Vi, my love. I have so much to say and so little space to say it, and I couldn’t bear waking you to get another sheet of paper. It must do for the moment.
For tonight I’ll still get to lay with you and I’ll savour the seconds.
Love,
Caitlyn
The paper is warm in Vi’s damp palms. She wipes them carefully on her pants and reads it again.
And again.
And when the words start to blur in the dimming light of the setting sun, she brings it to her face and breathes deeply. She imagines Caitlyn’s hands holding it, imagines the scent of her clinging to the parchment and she closes her eyes.
It takes a long moment for her to fold the letter and return it to its envelope. She feels sluggish and just a bit deranged with the desire to press her lips to it to see if she can taste Caitlyn’s fingertips still lingering.
She doesn’t.
(If she keeps it on the empty pillow next to her while she sleeps that’s no one’s business but her own.)
Day 3
Vi returns from a meeting with Sevika, agitated and tired, aching for a fight. It’s a habit she’s never really managed to break. The woman brings with her too many memories, even if they’re on the same side again. As much as there can be sides. They both want the best for Zaun. No need to get along.
And still, every time Sevika purposely antagonises her with sharp words and cutting glances, it raises her hackles. Even if she knows it’s a defence mechanism more than anything else. Neither of them ever learned how to play nice.
Her fingers itch, her arms are prickling and she knows a run won’t cut it. Vi drags herself to the vast basement and makes her way to the room reserved for moments like this. A safe way to exhaust herself. She strips off her jacket, shakes out her hands and stretches cursorily. She’s sure Caitlyn would somehow know if she didn’t take care of herself. A cosmic shift in the air or some shit like that. She almost laughs.
Vi’s feet carry her to the punching bag and she rolls out her shoulders, steadying her breathing when she spots it. Right at eye level, a small white note taped to black leather.
The frustration melts from her to make space for confusion.
She’s not entirely sure what to do with her body, the sudden change in energy, and it leaves her rocking back and forth on her heels for a moment. She shakes out her hands again, then reaches for the paper.
Darling
Vi sits, focus caught, anger draining away to be replaced by the usual bone-deep fondness.
She turns the note over, blinks, then laughs. She brings it to her nose, inhales, and it smells flowery and warm and just a little like dust. Darling. Nothing else.
Caitlyn’s voice rings in her head, admonishment and fondness in equal measure as her tongue forms the same seven letters and Vi can almost hear her smile.
Her jacket remains on the floor of the makeshift gym, and she feels her cheeks ache by the time she steps under the shower and cools off.
Day 7
She doesn’t look for them. Not actively. But Caitlyn seems to have left her notes in the strangest places and it starts to become something she anticipates with a warm delight.
Vi finds a scrap of paper with a deep red kiss tucked into the pocket of one of her vests.
The steam of the shower in the spare bathroom that she sometimes prefers since it’s less convoluted reveals a simple “I love you” in the mirror.
She finds pressed flowers in a book she hasn’t read in months and wonders just how long Caitlyn has been planning this.
Day 14
Alright, so maybe she does look for them.
She may have overturned every pillow in the mansion and found more kisses, a handkerchief drenched in Caitlyn’s perfume and, memorably, a lavender lacy little number she can very vividly picture Caitlyn in and that she very quickly hides away from sight.
Vi has not yet gone through the multiple libraries worth of books but she can feel the itch to do just that.
For now she hoards them. The letters, the trinkets, the presence of Caitlyn that she’d made sure to fill the mansion with, just so Vi wouldn’t feel lonely. It makes tears burn in her eyes. To be so loved. So easily loved. Like it’s a privilege and not a burden.
It almost makes her want to see if she can’t smuggle herself into another airship and find her, never mind the fact that she’s never left their cities and wouldn’t have any idea how to get to her. Love, she thinks, surely would make her know.
She already feels like she can feel Caitlyn wherever she is, like they’re separated by nothing more than empty air, hearts entwined and beating as one. The way they do when they sleep together, chest to back, Caitlyn’s steady pulse against her spine, so in synch they breathe as one entity. It’s Vi’s favourite thing about the mornings when Caitlyn wakes after her, rare as they are.
If she could, she’d tangle their ribs together and interlock them permanently. Obviously, she knows that’s neither a healthy nor a normal thought to have, but it’s as Caitlyn said. They make each other whole.
Isn’t it just human nature to want to be whole?
Day 20
There are 28 Letters in Vi’s possession and she’s intimately familiar with each and every book the Kiramman Libraries have to offer.
She spends more time exploring the halls and rooms than she did when she first moved in. She also spends a lot of time reading. Not just the letters. The books too. Fishing, languages, flowers, baking. There’s nothing she doesn’t at least leaf through.
Tries her hand at baking and finds out she has a knack for it. Bread in particular. Something about beating the dough to submission makes her wonder why she hasn’t tried it before. And if she bakes way too much for one person and ends up carrying baskets of loaves to Ekko for him to give his people, well.
She’s also a family person. And she’s never learnt to only take care of herself.
Day 27
It’s a coincidence that she turns on the recorder as it is and doesn’t switch it out to something she actually listens to. But she just needs something to fill the silence as she waits for the cupcakes to bake.
She’d been able to use berries from the gardens and she’s spent at least a week perfecting the recipe, so she’d have even a single thing to give back to her girlfriend when she returns. Vi has gorged herself on tenderness. She feels full to bursting with it.
When the needle hits the record and the staticky pop and crackle suffuses in the room she sighs heavily and relaxes. 10 minutes until they’re ready to be taken out of the oven. Less than 24 hours until she gets to enjoy them with Caitlyn. Yes, ready to burst is right. Her heart aches.
And then—
Vi’s eyes snap open. The scratchy sound of a needle dancing in its grooves makes way for Caitlyn humming an unmistakable lullaby. There’s a lump in her throat as she listens, and when the melody once again leaves only crackling silence she takes a deep breath.
Oh.
She thinks.
I really have fallen in love with the sun.
Day 28
Vi is anxious. It’s stupid and ridiculous because finally, today, she’ll see her again. And she’s anxious.
Her reasons are simple. In the past month, and in Caitlyn’s absence, she’s somehow fallen even deeper. And she doesn’t know what to do with her feelings, feelings too big for a single person, or even the two of them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but Vi’s heart feels like it’s one stuttering beat away from tearing free from her chest to throw itself at Caitlyn’s feet.
She’s standing at the docks an hour early, like a moron, with flowers from their garden just to occupy her hands and she’s starting to sweat at the base of her spine. It’s uncomfortable and not how she wants to greet her girlfriend at all. What if she doesn’t know how to put it into words and she makes a complete asshole of herself? What if she can’t tell Caitlyn how stupid she is over her?
Vi had put on her best shirt (see: clean, tight and sleeveless) in preparation of what she was sure would be a nerve wrecking day and she fixes the collar absently, watching a few petals rain down to the concrete.
Deciding that standing makes her look like a child waiting for a parent at the market she tries for a casual lean against one of the stone pillars, watching the morning travellers and traders go about their days. It calms her down somewhat.
And then she hears the soft creaks and quiet whoosh of the airship reaching its dock and her pulse thrums in her throat.
She very deliberately does not stand up straight like she wants to. She remains artfully relaxed and composed as a few workers tie the ship to it’s mooring and start lowering the gangway. Trunks are being carried and placed carefully on the concrete and Vi watches as casually as she can manage.
And then the early morning fog lifts and rays of sun bathe the docks in a warm golden and Vi’s heart soars as she watches a slender gloved hand settle on the side of the airship. It’s easy then, to step forward.
It takes no conscious thought.
One moment she’s leaning against the pillar, the next her feet carry her briskly home.
Caitlyn barely has time to get her footing before there are arms closing around her waist and she’s off her feet again. Her laugh is pearly and delighted. Her own arms wrap around Vi’s shoulders, face tucked into her neck, their hearts once more pattering in perfect synchronicity.
“Miss me?”, she breathes in a rush, smile audible.
All she gets in reply is a very thorough kiss and flowers staining the back of her blouse violet. She hardly minds.
“Not at all,” Vi whispers, minutes or hours later, her lips tingling and cheeks aching. Caitlyn laughs again and there goes her heart, crawling up her throat and holding her hostage.
“Liar.” Caitlyn grins, cradling Vi’s cheeks with a bemused fondness.
“You caught me,” she sighs, kissing her again.
“I missed you too, darling.”
Vi breathes deeply, eyes closing. “Welcome home.”