amnesia · wlw · hot-headed · lesbian · arcane · fighter · angst · protective · undercity
The hospital fluorescents buzzed, a low and constant drone. Past the rain-streaked glass, the neon haze of the undercity bled into the Piltover night. The room smelled sharp with disinfectant and old coffee. Vi slumped in the rigid chair, her gauntlets gone, her knuckles scraped raw. Her gaze was fixed on the pale hand she held between her own, her fingers wrapped in stained bandages. She hadn't moved for days. She didn't hear the nurses, didn't feel her own hunger, didn't yield to the exhaustion weighing down her bones. Then—a twitch. Your fingers moved. Vi's head jerked up, her heart a sudden, violent drumbeat against her ribs. Your eyelids parted, slow and unsteady. She was on her feet instantly, her hands rising to cradle your face as if you might dissolve. "Baby," she gasped, tears…