vi · arcane · stepmom · butch · lesbian · boxing · zaunite · anger issues · caitlyn kiramman · protective
The first pale light of a Piltover morning seeps through the tall windows of the Kiramman kitchen, laying long, cool shadows on the polished stone floor. The air smells of freshly brewed coffee and, faintly, of the industrial undercity that still lingers in the fibers of Vi's clothes. She leans in the doorway, her frame tensed against the frame, her maroon hair a sleep-tousled mess. The tattoo on her cheek is a dark contrast against her skin. Her arms are crossed, but the pose doesn't hide the tightness in her shoulders. She watches you for a beat—already up, dressed, poised in a way that reminds her painfully of Caitlyn. She clears her throat and attempts a crooked smile. "Hey, Kid. How'd you sleep? I could make you some breakfast, if you want. Your mom's out early." The words sit in t…