Vi stood tall in the warm afternoon light, one hand perched on her hip, the other draped easy over the sun-bleached fence.

Sweat glistened on her boys’ foreheads as they worked the stables, muscles straining, boots kicking up dry earth. She watched with quiet command, every inch the boss, but calm as still water.

Then, the screen door gave a familiar creak—soft, almost shy—and there you were.

Gliding across the yard like a breeze on a blistering day, your sundress catching the sunlight, swaying around your knees like it had a rhythm all its own.

You carried a tray balanced just right, an offering of cold beers, fresh-squeezed lemonade, and golden biscuits still warm beneath a folded tea towel. You looked like somethin’ out of a daydream, soft and steady, the kind of sight that made folks stop what they were doin’.

“Break time,” you called out, your voice all sugar and sunshine, light enough to melt even the hardest day.

A ripple of gratitude moved through the hands like wind through wheat. Cowboy hats tilted in your direction, rough voices murmured their thanks, and tired smiles cracked open like thunderclouds breaking.

Vi watched you with a pride so big it swelled in her chest, knocking around behind her ribs like a drumbeat. Lord, the way you moved through her world—gentle but strong, kind but not to be underestimated—it took her breath clean away.

That is, until a low mutter broke the spell.

“Must be nice,” one of the younger hands grumbled, the words sharp with spite. “Get to sit in the cool house all day while the rest of us work our asses off.”

Vi’s head turned. Slow. Deliberate.

The warmth in her expression vanished, her jaw setting like stone, a muscle ticking as her eyes locked on the boy.

“Say that again?” she asked, her voice molasses-thick, but with an edge like broken glass.

The boy straightened up fast, eyes wide now, realizing he’d stepped somewhere he shouldn’t. “I just meant—”

“You meant nothin’ but trouble, runnin’ your mouth about my wife,” Vi snapped, stepping forward, boots crunching the dirt like punctuation.

“That woman’s been up since sunrise. Bakes with her bare hands, irons every shirt on this damn ranch, keeps that house cleaner than a prayer, and still makes time to come out here and bring your ungrateful ass a cold drink.”

You blinked, a little stunned, heart thudding at the sudden rise in heat. But Vi turned to you then, and her face softened like the sun slipping behind a cloud.

“Go on, baby. Head back inside. I’ll handle the rest.”

And so you did—cheeks flushed, pride blooming in your chest like a rose in high summer.

Behind you, Vi’s voice curled back around that foolish boy, low and smoky, wrapped in iron.

“Next time you speak on her,” she said, calm as a loaded gun, “you better put some damn respect in it.”

The house was cooler inside, but not by much—just enough to take the edge off the heat.

You set the tray down on the counter, hands still a little shaky, though you weren’t sure if it was from the sun or the way Vi had stood up for you like that, fierce and fearless.

You were rinsing out some lemonade glasses when the screen door creaked again, slow and easy this time. Vi stepped in, wiping her hands on a rag, her shoulders loose now, tension gone with the dust outside.

She crossed the kitchen in a few strides, and before you could turn fully, her arms were sliding around your waist from behind, forehead pressed to the crook of your neck.

“You okay, baby?” she murmured, her voice warm and low.

You nodded, but your breath hitched a little. “Didn’t mean to stir up trouble…”

Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, her hand lifting to gently tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Her eyes were soft now, not a single trace of the fire she’d shown out there—just that steady, grounding kind of love she saved just for you.

“Hey. You didn’t stir nothin’,” she said. “That boy’s mouth did the stirrin’. You just walked out there lookin’ like heaven on a hot day, bringin’ biscuits and sweetness like you always do. And no one—no one—gets to talk about you like you’re anything less than what you are.”

You felt your lip wobble and blinked fast.

Vi smiled, small but sure, and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “You're the heart of this whole place, sugar. They just don’t see it ‘cause they’re too busy lookin’ at the dust on their boots. But I see it. Every damn day.”

You turned then, wrapping your arms around her, pressing your face into her shoulder as her hands rubbed slow, soothing circles across your back.

Milestones in relationships weren't something Vi was too familiar with, yet it felt like everyone around her had an internal checklist of these stages, which they expected their relationship to follow:

1. Dating

2. Officially being girlfriends

3. Saying ‘I love you’

4. Having sex

The hockey player was a notorious fuck boy in highschool, a reputation she has yet to be able to redeem. Because of this, her teammates are a bit…

Vi’s gaze traces up and down the aisle, trying to find something that you'd like. It was your anniversary and she wanted to get you something small to celebrate that, without the price hurting her wallet.

She grabs a box of chocolates she knew you loved, temporarily ignoring how many shifts at the Last drop it would cost her as she holds it gently.

Her teammate, Maddie, scoffs at her.

“I'd never spend that much money on such a prude.”

Vi's jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as she huffs through her nose.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I didn't think you had it in you man, a few years ago you wouldn't even have had a girl around for a week, let alone 5 months!” another girl shoots in, her seemingly sinister snicker making the other ones laugh all over again.

Her teammates laugh.

Like it was unbelievable that Vi would be with someone without putting her tongue in them.

“Just quit it, alright?” She huffs, pushing past them to get to the cashier. Pretending as though their words didn't feed her already growing insecurities.

Of course she'd thought about it, why you two hadn't done it already, were you just not ready? Did you not like her? Was she disappointing you?

Was she even worth more than what she could do for others?

Her mind churns and wanders, not noticing the line diminishing until the cashier has to gently bring her back to earth, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

Vi flinches slightly, putting the chocolate on the conveyor belt with an apologetic expression.

Her teammates had left her — How predictable — leaving her to take the long route to the dorms.

On the way there she made a plan, she had to. You were going to leave her unless she stopped being all sappy and just fucked you already.

———————————————————————————

You had prepared everything, walking around and decorating the limited space you had in your dorm before your girlfriend was coming over.

You had your friends on speaker as you paced around, excitedly showing them everything you had bought as you neatly wrapped her gifts.

“I hope she'll like it!” You say excitedly to your friends, grinning.

The friends look at each other slightly before turning to talk to you.

“Look… It's been 5 months right?” She says carefully, trying to gauge your reaction.

You nod, not quite understand where this conversation was headed.

“And you haven't had sex?” Her question earns a groan from you as you keep tidying up.

“No we haven't, there's no deadline is there?” You ask sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

You didn't get why people put this timeline in front of you for no reason. Why couldn't you two just go at your own pace?

You were aware of Vi's past, and had a healthy dose of skepticism before you two started exclusively dating but she proved herself time and time again.

By this point you trusted her completely, which is why your friend’s unnecessary comment annoyed you.

“We're just looking out for you girlie, intimacy is important you know!” She says, trying to cover for the other friend.

Just as you were about to respond, the doorbell rings.

“She's here! "Bye!" You hang up before they get the chance to say anything, rushing to the door with a grin.

———————————————————————————

Vi nervously shuffles from foot to foot, the plans that were previously swirling around in her head now plummet to the ground at the sight of you.

She's more nervous than usual, smiling sheepishly as you hug, wiping her hands on her pants when you aren't looking, running her hands through her hair enough times to probably make it greasy despite her definitely showering properly before coming here god why was she such a mess?

You didn't seem to notice, or maybe you did and just didn't want to comment on it. Maybe you found her so disgusting it turned you off?

“Do you like it?” You smile, showing her how you've decorated the place.

You pull her out of this anxious trance, as she looks around.

You had put in so much effort, for her? She hugs you gently.

“Thank you baby, happy 5 month anniversary.” You say sweetly, kissing her cheek gently.

Vi usually loves it when you kiss her cheek, it's a comfortable way to show intimacy, but now it's gotten to her. What if you kiss her other places instead of her lips on purpose?

Vi fidgets, picking at the skin of her scabbed knuckles.

You place the gifts you've wrapped neatly in front of Vi, smiling.

“Open it!” You coo, smiling as she takes the gifts, opening them.

The first gift is a bunny plushie dressed up as a hockey player, including the puck and the ball. You smile, proud that you got your girlfriend something she'd enjoy having.

A smile creeps up the pinkettes face. “Thank you babe.” Her hand reaches for yours, kissing it gently.

You giggle, enjoying her chivalrous ways of thanking you.

“I could thank you in other ways, you know?” Her voice gets low, watching your body language as she turns your hand, kissing up your forearm.

You shiver slightly, your breath labored ever so slightly.

“What- what are you doing?” the words slipped out, slightly shocked.

The pink haired girl freezes, looking up at you as she slowly pulls her lips away.

“I'm sorry I thought you wanted-” She begins, her eyes searching your face as the tears sting behind them.

A worried expression paints your face as you move closer towards your girlfriend.

“Thought I wanted what?” You ask softly, looking up at her.

“We've been together for almost half a year and we haven't had sex!” She blurts out, the words hanging in the air for a beat too long.

“There's no deadline, Vi.” You reassure her, grabbing her face gently, letting your thumbs caress her soft cheeks.

“But haven't you been waiting?” The pinkette asks, the statements from her teammates sticking to her like glue.

“To have sex? no?” You answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like sex was just something you randomly chose one day to want. Like it hadn't been plaguing your mind like her teammates said it had.

“But they said…” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Who's they, Vi?”

“... "My teammates."

You groan, having made it clear that you've never liked them a long time ago.

“Violet Vanderson, listen to me alright?” You say sternly, yet your voice is laced with love.

“I’d love you even if you told me you never wanted to have sex” You say, matter of factly. Her eyes water as your thumb reaches up to wipe it away.

“You mean more to me than that, you know that right?” You reassure, search her face for any sign of her taking your words into account.

Her tough exterior finally crumbles, her face scrunching up as she cries, her face in your hands. You pull her into a hug, soothing her gently.

All those years, only being pursued for one thing, convinced her she wouldn't find someone who wanted her for more than that. Someone who would hold her while she cries in a kitchen decorated to celebrate their 5 month anniversary.

“I love you, not just what you can give me. I love all of you.” You cooed gently, kissing her hair.

“I love you too.” She sobbed, burrying her head in the crook of your neck.

———————————————————————————

You stay like that for a while,embracing each other as your hands drawing soothing circles on her back ever so gently.

When the pinkette looks up at you, her glossy powder blue eyes slightly red from all the crying, you simply smile.

“Do you want to sit on the couch? you still haven't opened the other present I got you.” You coo softly, kissing away the remaining tears.

Vi closes her eyes for a moment, soaking in the kisses, as if the soft plush of your lips would heal the wounds deep in her soul.

Without any warning she simply picks you up, playfully running over to the couch with you.

You laugh, playfully scolding her to slow down so she doesn't drop you. Your girlfriend gets the gift you got her as she sits down, placing you on her lap.

You turn to face her, straddling her lap to see her reaction better. “Go on, open it.” You urge her impatiently as she laughs.

“Calm down princess, I will.” She smirks, unwrapping the gift gently. The neat wrapping is undone carefully, a silent appreciation for your wrapping skills.

Her smirk widens into a smile as she opens the small box, finding a silver necklace with a violet colored stone inside.

“I know you don't wear these kinds of necklaces very often but it reminded me of you and-” her soft lips met yours before you were able to finish your sentence.

It wasn't rushed, heated, hungry or ranchy like she had planned it to be before she entered your dorm.

It was simple, sweet and loving, and she wouldn't want it to be any other way.

She takes notices of you smiling in the kiss, smiling as well. Vi’s unending stamina takes a toll on you as you gently pull away, needing air.

“So I take it you liked the gift?” You say in-between catching your breath.

“Liked is an understatement. I loved it, thank you so much.”

“I can put it on you if you want?” You suggest, gently taking the necklace out of her hands.

Vi nods as you lean in, breathing in the smell of your perfume as you lock the necklace.

You place a kiss on her neck, a gentle peck.

“It tickles,” she responds, grinning

“I love you” You murmur gently, pulling away

Vi hums gently in response

“The necklace looks really good on you, violet on violet.” You grin.

The pinkettes blue eyes roll at you, caressing your hips gently.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You ask, turning around to reach for the remote.

“Sure, why don't you pick something princess?” She murmurs gently, placing her chin on your shoulder.

The tv glows gently as the time flies by as you watch the movie, occasionally switching positions as you talk about everything and nothing at all.

The credits roll on the tv screen, Vi spooning you gently. She peaks over your shoulder to check-in on you only to see you sleeping. She smiles, kissing the top of your head gently as she closes her eyes.

———————————————————————————

She's convinced their coach hates them when the fluorescent lights in the ice rink attacked her eyes early in the morning.

The harsh sounds of the ice-skating blades slashing through the ice echo throughout the rink, in sync with the swish from the hockey stick perfectly leading the puck through the different obstacle courses.

At some point during the practice you had come, holding a water bottle as you waved excitedly waiting for her to see you.

Her heart skipped a beat as her powder blue eyes met yours. You came to her practice, with water.

Such a small gesture, yet so considerate.

You really did care.

Your gaze kept Vi in a trance —well until Coach Sevika came over— momentarily distracting her.

Maddie skates up next to her, nudging her slightly

“Hey Vi, you got any action last night?” Maddie snickers.

Vi smirks “Why, do you need any tips?” She shoots back.

Her teammates all collectively ‘ooo’ and Maddie scoffs, crossing her arms.

“N-no! me and Caitlyn are doing just fine!”

“If you must know, we watched a movie and fell asleep.”

Her teammates quiet down.

“and that's.. that alright with you?” Another one of them quipped, gauging Vi's reaction.

“Yeah. We're taking things at our own pace. One step at a time.” She answers, smiling as she looks up at you again.

Besides, there's no deadline, is there?

The mahogany-paneled walls of Piltover University's faculty lounge had witnessed countless academic debates, but none quite as charged as the ongoing rivalry between its two esteemed professors. You adjusted your impeccably neat blazer as you reviewed your lecture notes, your reputation for cool professionalism preceding you into every room you entered. At twenty-eight, you had already earned your place among the institution’s most respected staff, your groundbreaking work in economics earning you both accolades and the somewhat intimidating nickname (one that you despised but, oh well, what can you do) "The Ice Queen" among students.

Across the lounge, Professor Violet—or “Vi”, as she had insisted on her first day with an insufferably charming smile—appeared abruptly, her unceremonious button-down shirt contrasting sharply with the formal atmosphere. Also twenty-eight, Vi had taken an unconventional path to academia—former athlete turned kinesiologist, her hands-on approach to learning and teaching had revolutionised the physical sciences department. Where you commanded respect through quiet authority, Vi earned it through enthusiastic engagement and an infectious energy that had students lining up to attend her lessons.

The conflict had started innocuously enough three years ago when you were both hired the same semester, breaking records as the youngest professors in the university's prestigious history. The dean had made the mistake of introducing you both at the same meeting, underscoring your shared distinction with obvious pride. You remembered the way Vi's eyes had found yours across the room, the slight raise of her eyebrow that seemed to say "challenge accepted" before either of you had uttered a sentence.

What followed was the most intellectually stimulating and frustrating professional relationship of your career. Every discussion became a subtle battlefield where your measured contributions were countered by Vi's zealous arguments. Every conference saw the two of you presenting competing frameworks, your methodical notions challenged by her innovative contributions. Your colleagues had started placing bets on which of you would speak first during casual get-togethers, knowing that whatever one of you proposed, the other would find elegant ways to dissect and rebuild.

The students had caught on too. How could they not? They whispered about the apparent "Cold War" with hushed voices and ecstatic snickers, how Professor Violet could make the Ice Queen's jaw clench with a single well-placed comment. Some had even started taking both of your classes specifically to witness your heads butt.

Nevertheless, there had always been something else simmering beneath your endless sparring. Something in the way Vi's gaze lingered on you just a moment too long when she was making a point. Something in the way your pulse quickened when she leaned across the table to question your methodology. Something that made your carefully maintained composure feel like armour against an opponent who was far more dangerous than she appeared.

The breaking point had come two months ago during the annual research symposium. You had been presenting your latest findings when Vi, sitting in the front row with her arms crossed and that infuriatingly self-assured simper, had raised her hand during the Q&A session.

"Fascinating work as always, Professor," she had deceptively commended, her voice carrying clearly through the large hall. "However, I have to wonder if your focus on abstract models isn't missing the practical applications that could actually benefit the masses."

The question had been harmless enough on the surface, but you had caught the provocation in her tone, the way her eyes had sparkled with something that went beyond an appropriate amount of curiosity. Your response had been equally measured and equally loaded.

"I appreciate your concern, Professor Violet. Though I've always believed that strong conceptual foundations prevent the kind of… hasty implementations that can lead to flawed results."

The hall had gone eerily still, sensing the undercurrent of tension that had nothing to do with hypotheses. Vi's smile had sharpened, and for a moment, you had felt like prey being circled by a predator who was taking her time choosing the perfect moment to strike.

Afterwards, she had cornered you in the hallway outside, her presence making you acutely aware of how the other attendees were giving you both a wide berth.

"Hasty implementations?" she had repeated, amused, stepping close enough that you could smell her perfume. Something warm that made your stomach knot. "Is that really what you think of my work?"

You had forced yourself to not fold, though your heart had been racing in a way that had nothing to do with scholarly disagreement. "I think your work is passionate. Sometimes passion can cloud judgment."

"And sometimes," Vi had rebutted easily, her words low enough that only you could hear, "overthinking can prevent you from taking the risks that lead to real breakthroughs."

The moment had stretched between you, charged with implications that had you up at night for weeks. You had been saved from responding by a colleague's interruption, but the encounter had left you shaken in ways you hadn't been prepared to examine.

Since then, every interaction had carried that same foreign undercurrent. Curriculum debriefs where Vi's frequent comments about "loosening up" and "taking risks" seemed directed specifically at you. Hallway run-ins where her smooth confidence made your unfazed facade feel transparent. Late evenings in the library where you would find traces of her—a book left open to a page that contradicted your latest paper, notes scrawled in margins that seemed to taunt you even in her absence.

Everyone had started to notice the shift in your dynamic. Department Chair Heimerdinger had made suggestions about "productive collaboration" and recommended that you might benefit from working together on a joint project. The idea had sent a spike of panic through your chest.

"Burning the midnight oil again, Professor?" Vi's voice cut through your memories, dragging you back to the present.

You didn't look up from your papers immediately, taking a slow sip of your coffee before raising your eyes to meet hers. The sight of her leaning against the doorframe, all suave magnetism and knowing grin, made your blood surge in that familiar, intoxicating way.

"Some of us believe in detailed preparation, Professor Violet. Then again, I suppose your methods have their own uniqueness, hm?"

It was the same dance you had been performing for months, but tonight something felt different. You didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe it was the way the warm lamplight cast shadows that made the boring space feel intimate and tense with possibility.

Vi laughed, pushing herself away from the doorframe with that grace that always made you feel like you were being hunted. "Is that your way of saying you think I'm sloppy?"

"I wouldn't presume to comment on your methods," you shut her retort down, though your tone suggested you had plenty of thoughts on the matter. "I simply prefer structure."

"Structure," Vi echoed, settling into the chair across from you without invitation. The movement brought her into your personal bubble. An offensive strategy that felt deliberate. "Right. Is that why your students call you the Ice Queen?"

The nickname had a different impact when spoken in her alluring drawl, the muted golden glow sculpting her features in severity. For the first time, your composure flickered—just slightly; more than enough for Vi to catch the brief tightening around your eyes.

"I’m shocked that you pay such close attention to student gossip."

"Hard not to when they're constantly comparing us," Vi leaned back in her chair, studying you with an intensity that made your skin burn. "They seem to think we're total opposites."

"Aren't we?" your tone remained level, but the air between you had grown dense. Instances of constantly tiptoeing around each other seemed to crystallise in the gaps between your conversation.

The upward twitch of Vi’s lip was intentional, the expression of someone who had been waiting for exactly this opening. "Maybe. You're all cautious and guarded. I'm more..." she gestured vaguely at herself, "Straightforward.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “So, you’re calling me a pussy?”

That earns a perplexed bark of laughter from Vi, who now regards you with renewed interest. “I always believe I have the upper hand until you make an unexpected move like that. You keep surprising me, Professor.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘direct’.”

"Direct," you scoffed, finally closing your folder and giving Vi your full attention. This back-and-forth felt like crossing a line, like acknowledging that this had moved beyond regular courtesy. "Is that what we're calling it?"

She tilts her head, pleased, exposing the elegant line of her neck. 

God, you so badly wanted to run your teeth across her neck. 

"What would you call it?"

You found yourself scrutinising Vi's face in turn—the slight curl of her mouth that suggested she was always on the verge of saying something that would shatter your resolve.

"I'd call it reckless," you ultimately declare. You had lost some of your trademark steadiness.

Vi leaned forward, elbows on the table (you try not to drool over the bulging veins in her forearms, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up deliciously), closing the distance between you to make your breath catch. "And what's wrong with a little recklessness?"

You bristled at how Vi's proximity was doing things that you weren't entirely prepared for. The rational part of your mind catalogued all the reasons not to act on impulse—your career and your reputation, for starters. Both undoubtedly significant.

"Everything," you whispered, but it came out breathier than you wished.

"Really?" Vi's voice dropped lower and you realised she had orchestrated this entire setup. The late hour, the empty building, and the way she had positioned herself to make escape impossible without highlighting what was happening between you. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like all that structure and control that you speak so highly of might be... exhausting."

The observation hit too close to home, threatening the foundations of the persona you had spent years crafting. 

You had been attracted to Vi the second she entered your world. For a workaholic like you, however, you couldn’t dare imagine kindling anything with someone you worked with. Especially in your field.

You stiffened, your mask slipping. "I don't know what you're hinting at—"

"I'm not hinting at anything," Vi's hand moved across the table, her fingers just barely brushing against yours where they rested. This was the first time she had properly touched you since you had met each other. "I'm being direct, remember? I think behind all that collectedness, there's someone who wants to let go."

Her statement was a direct hit on every wall you had constructed to maintain your distance from the woman in front of you. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you comprehended that Vi had been observing you. 

She had been reading the signs of strain that you thought you had hidden so thoroughly.

"You don't know anything about me," you managed.

"Don't I?" Vi's thumb traced across your knuckles. "Three years of watching you, competing with you, and trying to get under that perfect, gorgeous exterior of yours. I think I know more than you'd like to admit."

The admission sent heat racing through your veins. You were dizzy, head practically spinning under the weight of her confession.

"This is wrong," you muttered.

"Is it?" Vi's smirk made your core flip with anticipation and terror. "We're coworkers. Equals. Two adults having a talk."

"This isn't just talk," you hissed, mustering a feeble glare.

"No," Vi agreed, bringing your hand up to her lips and letting her tongue dart out to sinfully lick at your forefinger. "It's not."

The action made you shiver with the revelation that this moment could destroy everything you had worked for. But, as Vi sucked on your thumb languidly and her stare darkened, your superficial concerns seem suddenly unimportant.

"What do you want from me?" the question slipped out before you could stop it, vulnerable and raw.

Vi's smile shifted, releasing your thumb with a loud POP!, becoming something softer but no less eager. "I want to see what happens when the Ice Queen melts."

Despite yourself, you snort uncharacteristically. “That's so corny.”

She beams at the sound, resting her chin in her palm innocently. “Would you rather I tell you that I desperately want to fuck you?”

You were losing your grip on yourself, and for the first time in your meticulously engineered life, you didn’t want to stop it.

"Vi..." you started, unsure of how to continue.

She stood, her existence more overwhelming as she moved around the table. You tracked her movement, your chair swiveling to follow her path until she was directly in front of you and you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.

"The thing about being direct," Vi said, referring to your earlier remark, "is that it’s convenient. Efficient. It cuts through all the pretense."

Your hands gripped the arms of your chair, knuckles white with the effort of staying still when every instinct was screaming at you to flee. "I'm not toying with you," you mumbled.

"No?" Vi leaned down, effectively caging you in. She sounded almost… hurt, "All the time I’ve known you, you’ve pretended you don't feel this too."

She was only a few centimetres away from where you could see flecks of gold in her beautiful, blue eyes. "Feel what?" 

Her shaky exhale was answer enough, but she inched forward anyway, her lips almost brushing your own as she spoke. "The same thing I feel every time we're in the same room. The same thing that's been driving this showdown between us from the very beginning."

Your eyelashes fluttered at the sensation of her breath against your skin, your entire being thrumming with an energy you'd been trying to suppress for far too long. She had noticed. Of course she had noticed. Vi never missed anything.

"This can't happen," you choked out. You sounded unconvincing even to your own ears.

"Give me one good reason why not."

You opened your mouth to respond, to list why this would be career suicide for both of you. But looking at Vi, you found yourself speechless.

Your brows furrowed as you discerned you were at a crossroads. Every rational part of your mind was screaming warnings, yet your body was curving into her despite your best efforts to do the opposite.

"I—" 

Vi's hand moved to cup your cheek, her fingers tracing patterns with devastating gentleness.

"Tell me to stop," she murmured, her voice rough with barely contained desire. "Tell me to walk away and we'll pretend this never happened. We'll go back to our professional rivalry and I'll never bring this up again."

The offer should have been a relief. It should have been what you needed to hear to restore your sanity. 

Be that as it may…

You didn't want to pretend. You didn't want to go back to how things used to be. 

You craved her. 

"Vi." This time, her name was akin to a prayer. Her pupils dilated as she registered the complete capitulation in your voice. "That's not telling me to stop," she inquired.

You were past the point of no return now. "I know," you whispered back, your reply dripping with want.

Vi's other hand came up to frame your face, her grip firm and possessive in a way that made your thighs squeeze together. "Do you have any idea," she spoke, brushing your lower lip, "how many times I've imagined this? How many meetings I've sat through, watching your mouth form those brilliant responses, wondering what sounds you'd make if I could just drag you to my private office and bend you over my desk. Make you feel so, so good."

She let the sentence hang between you like a live wire, but her thumb pressed slightly against your lip. You found yourself parting them instinctively to mimic her from before, the tease drawing a sharp intake of breath from Vi that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

"So long," she continued, "I’ve spent so long watching you be untouchable. Unreachable." Her hold tightened slightly, and you felt completely at her mercy. "Do you know what it does to someone like me?"

"Someone like you?" you ask, though speaking felt impossible.

"Someone who wants to make you come over and over again."

Good lord.

You were trembling, your calm shattered by nothing more than Vi’s mere honesty.

Her chuckle was husky, "Haven't even gotten started, baby. Haven't even seen what happens when I really try to make you lose control."

"Fuck, this is dangerous," you nearly whined, your last attempt to hold onto some semblance of dignity.

"I know," Vi agreed, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she pressed herself closer until you could feel the exhilarating pressure of her chest against yours. "The question is, how many fingers it’ll take before you’re begging me to ruin you?"

You didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

Simply closed your eyes and nudged your nose against hers, a surrender so complete it left you breathless.

Vi's response was instant and devastating. "Good girl," she groaned against your lips, the words a reward and a promise that made your entire world narrow to this precipice you were about to fall from together.

apartment neighbor!vi who still goes to the gym, and it's the only real place you see her, but she's always got her headphones banded over her bright red hair, her eyes narrowed -- the bandages around her knuckles are tattered, stained with what looks like blood. there are new cuts and bruises scattered along her arm and what looks like a fresh scab at the corner of her lip.

you don't ask; you figure that if she'd wanted you to know, she would've told you by now.

apartment neighbor!vi who is not there the first time you let curiosity get the better of you and maps the way to her family's pub -- it's a divey kind of place, but spacious and well-kept, with dartboards lining the walls and an old fashioned jukebox in the corner. the man behind the counter glances up with a grin, a slight dip between his brows, an old pipe between his lips.

"bit early for a girl like you to come wanderin' in here," he says, with a voice that rumbles through you, even from a distance. you clear your throat and check your watch -- yeah, 2pm on a wednesday isn't peak hours for a bar like this but it's what you were hoping for.

"oh -- sorry, are you guys not open yet?" you glance back at the door, afraid that you'd missed some sort of signage but the man just laughs and shakes his head.

"nah, we're open. c'mon in," he gestures to the empty bar top, and sets down a glass with a heavy hand.

you eye it for a second before skittering over and sliding up onto one of the barstools, glancing around to take in the scene.

"lookin' for vi, i assume?"

you jump at the sound of vi's name, your eyes slingshotting back to the man, who breaks out into a loud bark of laughter, pouring you a full glass of water.

"h-how did -- has vi said something?"

the man shrugs, pushing the water towards you; you grab it for lack of anything better to do, taking a tentative sip as he eyes you with beady, beatle-black eyes, shining with mirth.

"you pour people drinks for long enough and you start to get a knack for puzzlin' out what they want when they walk in -- kinda person they might be, why they're comin' in -- gets to be a kinda game if you get good enough at it," he leans in with a conspiratorial wink that sets you at ease. you feel your own shoulders drop a bit as you set the glass back down on the counter and lick your lips.

"so you must be vander," you say, the name ringing back through your sifted memories -- vi on a tuesday night, after a movie about race cars or something, chattering about the bar and how her stepdad always gets on her about flirting with the customers too much.

vander nods, taking a soft puff of his pipe and leaning back.

"and you must be the neighbor girl that vi's not been able to shut up about," he muses, making you gag on your next sip of water. he lets out another booming laugh and reaches behind the counter to hand you a stack of napkins. you mop at the water dripping down your chin, feeling your cheeks burn.

"sorry, sorry -- forgive an old man his good time," he says with another good-natured wink before his jovial expression flattens, "but if you're here wonderin' what she's been doin'... then you're fresh outta luck, darlin'."

you frown, cupping your fingers around your half-drunk glass of water.

"i'm just... worried about her."

vander grunts, shrugging up a single, massive shoulder.

"standing room only on that bus, i'm afraid."

you let out a soft scoff of laughter, nodding.

"it's sweet of you to come knockin', but... she's a stubborn one, and if she doesn't wanna tell us then..." another shrug, another sigh, "no one's gonna be able to force it outta her."

you nod again, feeling rather wilted as vander reaches over to pat your shoulder with a large hand. he chuckles.

"tell ya what, here -- have a drink -- on the house."

he grabs a wine glass and sets it in front of you with a tiny flourish. as second later, a deep red liquid fills your glass and you stare up at him as he grins.

"i figured you were a cab sav kind of girl -- but tell me if i'm wrong, and i'll swap it out for anything else you might like."

you shake your head, laughing as you tug the wine glass closer, "nope. you're spot on."

apartment neighbor!vi who shows up hammered, with no preamble, banging down your door a on friday night (though it really is late enough to be called saturday morning) -- you answer with a frying pan clutched in one hand, a hissing sigh whistling through you the second you see who's on the other side. the pan drops and you're about to be angry, but your eyes catch on the fresh bruises blooming across the high of her cheeks, a bump the side of a golf ball swelling up above her right eye.

"o-oh my god, vi! what happened?!" you jump back as she nearly collapses into your doorway, barely catching herself against your shoe-rack.

"jus... missed you, sugar! can't a girl... miss... someone she likes?" she slurs, shaking her head as she pushes herself up; you blink rapidly at her, your chest a tight whirlwind of questions and concerns. it's all eclipsed, however, by alarm, as she lurches into your apartment and nearly smashes into your hallway wall, looping an arm around your shoulder -- you stumble beneath her weight, struggling to keep her upright.

"vi? vi -- you're drunk --"

"nah this ain't nothin' -- just wanted a few after -- after getting beat up, ain't that normal? damn -- got so fucked in the ring -- that match was fixed -- shoulda known smeech couldn't be trusted -- that slimy, money-hungry bastard --"

you somehow manage to half-drag vi into your living room and dump her on the couch, fluttering around for a large glass of water and a first aid kit.

"what -- what're you saying?" you ask, even as you force her to take a large gulp of water (she makes a face as if it's vodka before downing the rest in a few long gulps -- a few beads of water trickle passed her chin and into the collar of her stained tanktop). but in between the fragments and incoherent mumbles, a slow realization starts to coalesce inside you as you inch closer to her and convince her to sit still.

"vi...?"

"mm." she hiccups, flinching slightly as you dab at a cut on her cheek with an antibacterial wipe.

"are you... in some sort of... fight club, or something?"

vi makes a grumbling noise, her eyes fluttering closed; she sways a little as you continue to gently clean out her wounds. her breath carries the sharp, turpenic smell of cheap alcohol as she lets out a long sigh.

"somethin' like that... kinda like a boxing ring -- i'm pretty damn good at it, most nights," she adds, hissing again even as you jerk back, pursing your lips. she crinkles her nose before wiping a hand across her mouth, staring blankly down at the fresh blood smeared onto her skin.

"and... i'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that this boxing ring thing... isn't legal, right?"

vi tries her best at one of her usual, charming, lopsided grins, but it just ends up looking something like a grimace instead.

"legal's not where the money is, sweetness."

you lean forward with a fresh sanitary wipe and motion for her to hold still again. she does, offering you her other cheek, her eyes now startlingly clear as they flicker over the planes of your face. you wonder how drunk she really is, or if she's just gotten terribly good at hiding it.

"but... i thought that you guys were in a rent-controlled unit? what'dyou need all this money for?"

vi scoffs, her eyes lowering.

"pow's university tuition isn't gonna pay for itself."

her voice is soft, low, her words steady. you pause, frowning slightly at her as she sighs and leans back to cast you a sad little grin.

"ah... now that i've told you, 'fraid i'm gonna have to killa ya," she winks. you don't smile, only turning to discard the dirty wipe for another fresh one.

"i thought the bar --"

"it doesn't make enough -- and powder -- she --" vi sucks in a long breath, her eyes fluttering closed. when she opens them again, it's the eyes you remember, the eyes you'd spent so many afternoons and evenings staring into -- there's light and laughter, a fire that can't be extinguished, a light that can't be dimmed, a hard-lined conviction that makes them shine even on the darkest of moonless nights.

"she deserves every opportunity. that girl --" vi lets out a helpless little scoff, "she's gonna change the world one day, i just know it. if we can only --" she makes an abortive gesture with her hand.

you nod, reaching out to wipe away a small smudge of eyeliner beneath her eye. she stills beneath your touch, the cool of your skin against her burning cheek makes her shiver.

a thin tendril of tired, incredulous laughter slithers up your chest; vi's eyebrows kick up as you let out a giggle -- the only warning she gets -- before you're toppling into a fit of truly stomach-clenching laughter, leaning back into your sofa cushions, clutching your belly.

"a-are you alright?" vi asks, blinking at you with mild alarm as you shake your head, flapping your hands at her, unable to form any kind of coherent thought. you wipe at the tears forming at the corner of your eyes, and somewhere between one breath and the next, your laughs turn into frustrated sobs, and you shove vi reproachfully as she stares at you, totally nonplussed by this strange turn of events.

"y-you're such an idiot!" you say between heaving breaths, rubbing at your eyes. you feel lightheaded; the clock on the microwave blinks a bleary 4:42AM at the pair of you.

vi stares, completely nonplussed as you sniffled and reach over to snag a few tissues, daubing at your eyes.

"there're so many things you can do to get money -- you don't have to --" you gesture at her, "get yourself killed in an illegal fighting ring -- and you don't --" you jab a single finger into her chest, hard enough for her to flinch back, "have to try to do it alone."

she blinks, once, twice --

"uh..."

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "god, you're so stupid -- for someone with a genius sister --"

vi makes a slightly affronted noise, "i got good grades in school!"

you tear open a packet of neosporin with perhaps more savagery than necessary, nearly dropping it. you glare at the tiny packet before squeezing a large dollop onto your finger and motioning for vi to lean in. she eyes you for a solid three seconds before slowly leaning forward.

you lave the gel onto the cut on her cheek before peeling open a bandaid to cover it up.

"there. that's waterproof, so it won't come off when you take a shower."

"when i take a shower?" vi asks, her head cocking to one side.

you cast her a sharp look, "you're so gross right now, of course you've gotta shower."

vi hiccups into her fist before shooting you a sheepish grin.

"i could just shower at home."

you narrow your eyes, "it's 5am -- and i'm pretty sure powder's got a massive midterm tomorrow. you're staying here tonight."

"ah. yes. of... course," vi says, biting back an amused chuckle before looking around at the couch beneath her.

"well, i've always liked this couch."

you close the first-aid kit with a sharp snap.

"if you shower within the next --" you glance back at the clock on the microwave, "10 minutes or so, you can sleep in the bedroom. but if i'm asleep when you're done then you're gonna have to sleep out here -- i don't like being woken up." you try to sound stern, though it might have just come out sounding petulant.

vi grins, the expression so familiar to you it singes a line of heat down the center of your spine.

"oop -- guess i'd better shower quick then!" she pushes off the sofa and jogs for the bathroom, swiveling around by the door to give you a soft smile and a -- "hey... thanks."

you roll your eyes at her and flap your hand, "go. shower!"

you slip into bed, listening to the shower water run, a twist of something collecting in your gut as you hear the sounds of the water turn off and the unmistakable noises of vi toweling off. you burrow further into your blankets as her footsteps thump through the apartment, the slight creak of your bedroom door swinging open as she slips in, the shape of her limned in moonlight as she slowly makes her way to the other side of the bed.

"hey sugar... you still awake?"

you crinkle your nose, and for a second, consider feigning sleep. but the next second, she's slipping into the blankets next to you, her skin warm to the touch as she shuffles closer.

"yeah," you answer, a second later.

she shuffles just a bit closer; you flip around to face her, gasping as you realize how close she is -- your noses almost touching. her eyes widen as they meet yours, and you could swear that even in the pre-dawn dark, you can see her cheeks rioting with color.

she clears her throat but doesn't make to pull away.

"y'know, usually when i get invited into someone's bed... it's a lot sexier than this."

you puff out a breathy laugh, "yeah? i'm sure. why don't you tell me about it tomorrow, when we're compiling all the scholarships that we're gonna help powder apply to?"

vi falls quiet, her gaze going startlingly liquid, and for a second, you wonder if she's going to cry too. but then, she's leaning in, pressing her forehead to yours --

"god... sweets... what the fuck did i do to deserve you?"

you snuggle in closer, your heartbeat a livewire thrum at the back of your throat.

"nothing... you were just... you."

vi lets out a shaky breath, her eyes falling shut.

"shit, sugar... what the hell, man... it wasn't supposed to be like this."

you laugh as she sniffles, tugging you closer, her palm warm along your waist, her fingers pressing into your skin.

"yeah? did you have it all planned out? help the new girl move in? watch movies and make food with her on the weekends till she falls in love with you?"

vi's breath hitches. you bite your tongue.

still, she doesn't refute you. finally, she manages --

"i just... never thought it'd... get this bad..."

you sigh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"y'know, for a smart girl, you're really dumb sometimes."

vi pulls back, sighing, "yeah... i -- i know. and i know that powder and vander probably know too -- they just -- they just... knew me too well to try and --"

"force it out of you?" you supply. vi nods, her hair tickling your skin as she burrow in against you, her body curling in till she's in a fetal position, her face pressed into your chest, her breath fanning hot against your collarbones.

"well, lucky for me --" you say, reaching up to run a hand through her hair, caressing at the still-damp ends, "i didn't have to -- you came knocking all on your own."

vi's quiet for another few beats before --

"i wasn't lying y'know... i really did... miss you." her voice catches, the words cracking over one another like river stones.

you graze your lips along her hairline, nodding, "yeah, i know... i missed you too, vi."

she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in, pressing you to her so completely your chest almost starts to sting with the pressure.

a few minutes later, she relents, releasing you just enough for you to suck in a long, steadying breath.

"did you really mean it? that thing about... the scholarships for powder?"

you nod, "course i did. and we can look up loans too! i had to take one out when i went to college too, so i'm pretty familiar with them. it's alright -- we'll figure it out -- together."

vi nods, chuckling softly against you.

"mm... before all that though..." she tugs back just far enough to look at you, her voice husky as she leans in to brush her nose to yours --

vi's soft snores wake you up, her parted lips pressed against the shell of your ear. her red hair was messy laid out on her pillow, and stray tendrils tickled the curve of your neck. you press a feather-light kiss to her forehead to not wake her up and brush your hand over her head to smooth the loose hairs out of her face. she stirs a bit, quietly mumbling into your jaw. 

"baby...?" she mutters. her hand dips under the side of her blue whale boxers, scratching at her protruding hip bone before coming up to her face to rub the sleep from her eyes.  

"yes, honey?" 

your small, four-foot christmas tree stood tucked in the corner of your shared bedroom, dim fairy lights blinking around the polaroids and small drawings you two had opted for instead of ornaments. a couple of boxes wrapped in adventure time wrapping paper—vi had insisted—sat beneath the tree.  

the sun had just begun to rise, and the dim light from the crack in the curtains was enough to make her wince and shove her face into your shoulder. "what time is it?" 

your hand fishes in the sheets for your phone. you find vi's instead and lift it to your face to wake the screen. "it's... 6:07," you read from her dimmed display. 

she groans, pulling the duvet over your heads. "it's too early... let's go back to sleep, please." 

you fondly chuckle at her grogginess. "it's also christmas," you whisper, your smile audible in your voice. 

she just mumbles, sniffling and smacking her lips. "yeah..." she rolls onto her side, having your body spoon hers. "wait..." she says urgently, as if just processing what you had said. "wait, it's christmas." 

"well, that is what i said, violet." 

"ohh my goosshh, it's christmasss..." she slurs, her enthusiasm quickly replaced by exhaustion. you press your nose into her hair, huffing deeply as you begin to lull yourself back to sleep. just when you think she's fallen back asleep, her morning voice cuts through the silence. 

"do you think honey baked ham is open on christmas?" she asks. 

"maybe. maybe for very last-minute christmas meals." 

"oh... okay, okay." a few seconds go by, and then: "do you think we could doordash a honey baked ham on christmas?" 

"christmas is today. do you mean today?" you correct her.  

she leans over and grabs the glass of water she got in the middle of the night, bringing the rim up to her mouth and downing the water left in the cup. 

"christmas is today. yeah, can we doordash a honey baked ham tomorr- today?" 

"yes, vi, if they still have them, we can get two—one for you and one for me." 

"hell yeah," she mutters. 

her body twitched with a chill, and she cursed under her breath at the sharp temperature in the room. "shit, it's so cold. the one and only thing i hate about christmas time." 

"the quilt my parents sent us is in the linen closet. you want me to get it?" 

she looks back with pleading eyes. "please, my perfect sugarplum princess pie who i love so much." 

"i'm gonna leave you to get frostbite and freeze to death," you joke while getting out from under the covers to walk the short distance down the hall. 

you reach the closet and pull the thick, padded quilt out from in between two other blankets, its tightly folded fabric hiding the full design of sprouts and ferns. shivering at an especially sharp draft, you pick up the pace and shuffle back to the warmth of the bed. 

shaking the quilt out, you quickly spread it across the bed and rush to get under it, pressing your body against vi’s.  

"i’m gonna set an alarm for 7 so we can order the ham because we're gonna have to order early if we want one. then once it gets here, we'll sleep until 11." 

vi rolls over to face you, a mischievious smile curling her lips upwards. "i couldn't think of a better plan." 

"perfect." you pull the freshly laid quilt up to yours and vi’s chins, nuzzling your head into your pillow. "good night, baby. i love you." 

"um, actually, it's 6 am, so it should be good morning." you can tell if it weren't so cold, she would take her hand out from the blanket to push a pair of imaginary glasses up her nose. 

"you're such a smartass. good morning. merry christmas, vi." 

"merry christmas," she whispers back. "i love you more." 

But she’s onto you, you were an open book.

“You been checking me out princess?” Her smirks widen with a burst of pride, pointed canine glinting. You shake your head ‘no’ but your nervous giggles give you away and just like that she's got you all figured out— “So how long have you been standing there exactly?”

“Not long— I— I just got here, Vander let me in.”

“Ah right, right, so if I go check the security cameras—” She steps closer, eyes fixed onto you. “—I’m not gonna see you standing here drooling for five minutes?”

You gawuff a scoff, heart jumping several beats. “No, you will not.” It’s a meek lie and it only makes your girlfriend chuckle in amusement. “Do you want your lunch or not?” You huff, desperate for a change of topic, she thought it was adorable.

“Mhm, yeah, m’starivin’ baby. Been on my feet all damn day.” She sighs, earning a sympathetic pout from you— watching as you rummage through your bag to pull out her lunch box. A plastic tub containing some cut up fruit and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a little sugary pick me up was just what she needed.

Violet takes her lunch, placing it down on the metal desk, which was a mess— scattered with all types of different tools and bolts and a few sticky notes.

“Oh you’re an angel, what’d I do without you hmm?” She’s practically beaming at you now, wiping her dirty hands with a rag before slinging the fabric over her shoulder— the sight makes your heart jump pathetically. “C’mere give me a kiss.”

A bashful gleam twinkles through your eyes as she lightly pinches your chin between her thumb and forefinger— leaning in to brush a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, murmuring an affectionate “Thank you baby.” against your lips.

“Yeah, of course— anytime.” You reply in between loving pecks, face scrunching up slightly as she presses one last kiss to the tip of your nose.

“You gonna keep my company?” She asks, pulling you up a chair— the metal legs scraping against the garage floor. “I wanna hear bout your day, princess.” Vi leans up against her desk, unwrapping her sandwich with an appreciative smile as you take a seat and begin your ramblings— she’d hang on to your every word.