Chapter Text
Caitlyn impatiently taps her finger on her desk, as though the action would help her any more in finishing this damn essay. Three words appear on the screen and are deleted almost as soon as they’re typed.
No, no, no. That can’t be right.
Caitlyn bites her lip and taps her finger again, louder by the second until she breaks and shoves her hands into her face with a huff. Vi, who was also trying to study in the university library, looks up, now alerted of Caitlyn’s tangible misery. She gives her a smug smile.
“Hey, buddy. You look bad.”
Looking bad is certainly better than how Caitlyn feels, the pressure of the end of the school semester building on her like a hydraulic press. Caitlyn huffs, scowling at her, and Vi laughs at her with all the affection in the world. Its warmth eases its way into Caitlyn’s shoulders earnestly, releasing some of the tension.
“I just don’t know exactly how to word what I’m trying to say,” she mutters, tapping her finger a little less forcefully this time. “I had good ideas for this paper, but I’ve no clue where they’ve all gone.”
Vi closes her textbook and shuffles her papers, littered with math problems Caitlyn could never understand. She scoots her chair a couple of inches closer and peers over at Caitlyn’s laptop.
Cait holds her breath. If there were any thoughts in her head, they’d surely fizzled out by now.
“Damn, Cupcake,” Vi says. “You’ve typed like, three sentences in the past hour. You doing okay?”
Caitlyn sighs. “No, probably not.” She then runs her thumb along the crease between her eyebrows. “I’m so burnt out I can hardly process my thoughts in real-time, let alone professionally in writing.”
“You want a break?” Vi asks, an eyebrow lifting. Her smile is kind, blinding. Caitlyn reminds herself to breathe. “It’s good for you.”
Christ. If this were anyone else, Caitlyn would have no trouble pummeling this request to the ground. But Vi? Vi is sunlight and cheeky smiles and beefy arms; all Vi has to do is look at her and Caitlyn suddenly misplaces her volition.
“Okay,” Caitlyn says, and Vi lights up, pushing her chair out as she stands. Confetti rains down; it’s as though Vi’s been waiting for this moment since they stepped foot in the library.
“Take a walk with me?”
Caitlyn glances at her laptop, the essay still unfinished. Doing anything with Vi surely has to be more productive than this. She sighs, folds the computer, and slides it into her satchel.
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t be like that,” Vi says, a twinkle in her eyes. “It’s a surprise.”
Caitlyn, who must be the most endeared woman in the world right now, scoffs at her. “You’ve been waiting your whole life for this moment, haven’t you?”
Vi winks. “You know it, babe.”
Caitlyn blushes.
Vi shoves her math papers into her backpack and guides Caitlyn out of the library, their fingers interlaced for a moment. Fate tries to lasso the two closer together with a yellow string, but the attempt falls on deaf ears. When they exit the building, Vi releases Caitlyn’s hand, and Caitlyn bristles against the cool breeze, lonely.
--
Vi hands Caitlyn her drink- Earl Grey, Vi knows her usual by now- and sits down on the couch next to her in the coffee shop. Caitlyn is sitting on the far side and Vi inserts herself right next to her, as though they were trying to leave space for a third person who isn’t coming.
“My head fucking hurts,” Vi complains. She takes a sip of her mocha, sets it on the table, and slumps down on the couch.
“Oh, poor you. Have you been studying too hard?”
“No.” Vi makes a disgruntled noise, shuffling her feet. “I butted heads with Mylo last night.”
Caitlyn raises a brow. “Did you have a disagreement?”
“No. Like we literally butted heads. I head-butted him because he was being a prick.”
Caitlyn blinks. She isn’t surprised. She’s heard stories of Mylo, doesn’t see much of him, and doesn’t plan on making an effort anytime soon.
Cait takes a sip of her drink, and Vi does so similarly. The voices of fate beckon to Caitlyn in her feeble state, urging her that she could be sipping liquid gold instead if she only listened to their guidance.
Caitlyn considers. She’s not usually one to take outside advice, but she’s had a rough couple of days, and figures that Vi probably needs this as much as she does. She relents. In her burnt-out delirium, Caitlyn guides Vi’s head into her lap.
“Dude, what-”
A soft thumb runs along the curve of Vi’s forehead.
“What’d he do?” Caitlyn interrupts. She doesn’t have the bandwidth to explain what’s happening or why.
Vi swallows. Her face is warm and her body is tense as she gazes up at Caitlyn.
Grey eyes, Caitlyn’s heart sings as she stares back down. Beautiful grey eyes.
Vi screws them shut and takes a breath, then eases. “So, Powder’s thinking of going into engineering.”
Caitlyn smiles. “Following in your footsteps, I presume?”
Vi shrugs in Cait’s lap, as though she doesn’t know the influence she has on her sister. “Pow’s so fuckin’ smart; she’ll probably finish that degree before I do.”
Caitlyn blinks. “But she’s still in high school.”
“Exactly.” Vi’s eyes close, finally settling into Caitlyn’s lap. “So Mylo started giving her shit about how she’s unorganized, and she’s gonna end up failing because she can’t get her shit together, and it’s like- fuck- it’s not our fault we had a shit childhood and now our brains don’t work-”
“Agreed.”
“Besides, it’s not like his shit is together either, so what the fuck is his deal? Anyway, I had it and told him to fuck off and head-butted him.”
Caitlyn chuckles. “Seems deserved.” Affection takes her hand, runs it down Vi’s face, and cups her cheek. Caitlyn wants to drink its warmth; she supposes that perhaps that’s what liquid gold tastes like.
“Mm,” is all Vi can reply. Her gaze turns and centers on her drink on the table- someplace other than Caitlyn.
“How’s Powder doing?”
Vi shifts, beginning to sit up, and Caitlyn moves her hand, allowing Vi what she needs. Cait bites down her disappointment and somewhere above them, a fairy light dies.
“She’s okay, aside from Mylo harassing her. Started seeing a new therapist a couple of weeks ago. I think she likes her.”
“That’s good. Would you ever see a therapist? You know, on account of the ‘shit childhood’ and ‘brain not working’?”
Vi laughs. She sits up taller and fixes a challenging gaze on Caitlyn. “What, you sick of trying to fix me what’s wrong with me?”
Caitlyn hums, a smile curling her lips. “Oh, dear. No, not me. I quite like being the one you tell everything to.”
Vi’s gaze softens. For a moment, the planets align. Perhaps they do know what they mean to each other, even if they haven’t said it aloud.
Cait continues. “Besides, I doubt any therapist could compete with me. I make you dinner every weekend. And I cost much less.”
The room hums, warm, threatening to trap Vi and Caitlyn between its walls. Pressure builds while Vi stares at Caitlyn silently, and Caitlyn falters, feeling that maybe their typical banter has been misstepped in some way. Perhaps this was too close to home. She hesitates, a millisecond away from trying to reach her hand out- from trying to comfort Vi- when Vi suddenly stands and starts downing the rest of her mocha.
“Yeah, yeah,” Vi grumbles, rolling her shoulder. Her gaze is on the cafe door. Caitlyn blinks and shuffles her feet, unsure of what just happened. “Speaking of which, are we still on for this Saturday? I think we should try watching Fight Club.”
Caitlyn nods uncetainly. She sips her tea- something to combat the bitter taste on her tongue- then joins Vi at her side. “Of course. I have something fun planned for dinner," she says after she collects herself.
Vi smiles from behind her coffee cup, which Caitlyn supposes is soothing enough. She collects her satchel and the two walk out of the cafe together, the distance between them only an uncomfortable foot too far apart.
--
Back at the library, Vi scoots her chair close to Caitlyn’s as Caitlyn reboots her laptop. She hunches over the computer, already starting to scowl at the screen again when-
Vi glances over and softly places her hand on the top of Cait’s knee.
Huh.
Vi doesn’t look at her, just strokes kind, gentle lines into the divots of Caitlyn’s knees while her free hand derives impossibly difficult equations. The furrow in Caitlyn’s eyebrows eases. Somewhere outside, a bird sings, and the clouds part.
Caitlyn finishes her essay. They say goodbye to each other, stretching their time out desperately before they actually separate, and leave to their respective homes.
--
Saturday rolls around, and Vi and Caitlyn eat dinner on Caitlyn’s couch, sitting in front of her ridiculously large TV. Caitlyn doesn’t much watch TV- she’s much too busy with work and school- but it seems to be a pleasant activity whenever Vi’s around.
Vi shoves orange chicken into her mouth. Caitlyn watches her intently.
“It’s good,” Vi announces, and Caitlyn settles a bit, sinking into the couch. “I like that it’s crunchy.”
Caitlyn nods. She doesn’t tell Vi that she’s spent the past week trying her best to make it crunchy just because she knows Vi likes it that way.
The TV turns on, and Vi begins fussing with the controls. “So, Fight Club is about toxic masculinity and shit, but then the incels got to it and totally missed the point, so half the people who watch it are stupid.”
Caitlyn hums with an amused smile, scooping rice into her mouth. “I didn’t know you were a film critic.”
“Oh, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Cupcake.” Vi retorts with a grin.
Caitlyn frowns, a bit offended. “Is that true? I thought I knew the most about you.”
As soon as the statement is out in the air, its fragility consumes the room Caitlyn and Vi sit in. They stare at each other at an impasse, like how they did in the coffee shop, waiting to see when or if someone will crack another joke to relieve the tension. Fate and its goons gather around them, watching the show intently and holding their breath.
Vi breathes, and the world heeds their spectacle.
“Yeah,” she finally admits, her voice tender. “You do.”
Caitlyn blinks, bewildered while the room applauds for them. She opens her mouth to respond, to say something like I was only joking, Vi, it’s okay, but Vi buckles down, wielding her vulnerability now like a powerful tool.
“Caught me red-handed,” she says softly, smiling at Caitlyn. “That’s pre-law for ya.” Vi rubs her nose, shoves more chicken into her mouth, and goes back to loading up Fight Club.
Caitlyn stares at her, stunned. She looks down at her food, flailing helplessly in a whirlpool of over a thousand emotions- confusion, fear, desire- but the moment passes and Caitlyn comes up empty-handed. Vi stands and turns off a few lights as the movie begins to play, long before Caitlyn has the chance to decide what any of her feelings could possibly mean.
--
A little way into the movie, at a quiet part, Vi starts to shift away from Caitlyn. At first, Caitlyn thinks that Vi is going to stand up and use the restroom, but she sits in place and clears her throat instead. Caitlyn looks toward her, concerned, and Vi’s face grows red. Her feet shuffle a little on the floor.
“Can I?” she asks, shooting a glance at Caitlyn’s lap.
Caitlyn blinks, pleasantly bewildered. She nods and raises her arms, allowing Vi access to rest her head on Caitlyn’s thighs, and Vi nestles in. Caitlyn can feel the tension leaving her body. Gold string pulls her hands into Vi’s hair, combing through it, and Vi sighs contentedly. Caitlyn’s cheeks heat up.
It doesn’t take long for Vi to fall asleep after this. Caitlyn lacks the discipline to pay attention to the movie when she does. Something sucks her into Vi like a cyclone- a hunger for tenderness that consumes, filled only by the feel of Vi’s cheek on her lap and soothed by the soft noises escaping her as she sleeps.
Time flies, as it does when one encounters a bullet train to their own destiny, and the credits to Fight Club start to roll.
Caitlyn checks the clock and lets Vi lay there a couple of minutes more, staring at her. She cups Vi’s cheek, warm and soft, and begins to feel dizzy. Caitlyn feels weak- weak in the knees, weak for Vi, much too weak to ask Vi to spend the night.
“Vi? Violet.”
Vi’s face twitches. She rolls her head so it’s facing the ceiling and scrunches her nose, sleep still overcoming her senses. Domesticity is kind to them, it plays them a symphony that Caitlyn wishes she could wake to every morning. She brushes the hair out of Vi’s eyes for her.
“The movie’s over. Do you need to head home?”
Vi shoots up immediately, rubbing her eyes. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, Cupcake. I guess I’ve been kinda burnt lately.”
It’s cute, much too endearing for Caitlyn to not react the way she does. Cait leans in, shaky, and presses a soft kiss against Vi’s forehead. Vi doesn’t pull away, doesn’t tense or flinch, something both a surprise and a blessing to Caitlyn wrapped up in a golden bow.
“No bother,” she says, squeezing VI's hand. “Run along now. Powder must be waiting.”
Vi nods, pulling together her backpack and a few belongings, and Caitlyn watches her, feeling something warm simmering at the bottom of her chest. When she’s done, Vi drops down and wraps Caitlyn in a tight hug. She squeezes, and Caitlyn’s breath catches between Vi’s taut arms. This must be the only good part about Vi leaving.
“‘Night, Cupcake. Thanks for dinner.”
Caitlyn nods and buries her nose into Vi’s shoulder. She breathes in Vi- cinnamon, musk, sandalwood - and wishes the smell would follow her to bed, along with Vi’s strong arms and warm body. She walks Vi to the door and watches Vi wave goodbye to her with a delightful grin, then closes the door and starts to get ready for bed. Cait feels dizzy, hazy. She crawls under the sheets but doesn’t try to sleep until she gets the text from Vi saying she’s arrived home safely.
Fifteen minutes later, her phone pings.
> Made it back alive
Heart pounding, Caitlyn rests her head on the pillow and lets herself replay the events of the night. A familiar warmth pools in her gut, spreading slowly through her veins like honey. She remembers how sad she was when Vi left, and imagines what it might be like to have Vi over more often, to let her be as close to Caitlyn as she was tonight.
Some part of Caitlyn’s future begins to unravel. Caitlyn chokes at the realization, staring at it from above with the knowledge that she and Vi perhaps have something, something fate-altering and gargantuan. She peers down at it in horror, then snaps her eyes shut firmly, trying to banish the thought.
This is enough, she chants to herself like a mantra before she falls asleep.
This has to be enough.