Mid autumn throws the City of Progress into crisp evening shadow early and with little warning, but the Star Rods are bright and so is the hushed laughter of the two young women who trip homeward arm in arm.
Vi's fingers are chill when they grasp hold of Janna's, the mage swerving against the enforcer's side as they navigate the windy inclines of Piltover's boulevards. Their faces are flushed, less from cold and more from the cumulative effects of fine champagne and each other's company. Vi tugs Janna along, her chuckle a ghostly puff of vapor in the dark air, leading the way down streets that are familiar even in shadow.
Leaning close to Vi, Janna follows, the musical lilt of her voice at odds to the flat scientific theory on which she is busy expounding. All Vi hears in her current state is entropy this and magnetic waveforms that, but she nods in agreement all the same. They're both still aglow from the hextech symposium to which Janna had been invited as guest of honor, and to which Vi had been invited as her date. When Janna pauses for breath, the willowy officer pounces on the opportunity to recall a highlight of the evening's outing:
"But remember when Jayce's catalytic converter exploded?" she blurts, and their bubbling mirth rises warm on the frosty air.
The days are still pleasant this time of year, the northern metropolis clinging to the fading heat of summer's glory, but now night has laid its full weight over the glittering city and the breeze that rushes up from the sea quickly turns from brisk to biting. Vi bites her lip when Janna shivers and slides her arm to curl around Vi's back.
"You're staying downtown, right?" she asks, giddy and light-headed. Janna nods once, her golden hair framing her rose-red cheeks, and Vi has to clear her throat before offering: "Well, my flat's just up that way. . . ?" She stops, swallowing hard, suddenly and acutely aware of all her rough edges. She is a river stone, Janna a pristine crystal. Regardless, she can hear a litany repeated in her muddled thoughts – please, please, please.
Janna's response is slow to come, leaving Vi in spinning uncertainty until a smile cracks like the radiant dawn across the mage's elfin features. "I'd love to see it," she murmurs, though the twinkle in her stormy eyes and the deliberate tightening of her embrace answers the question unspoken. Despite the cold, Vi's blood rolls to a quick boil.
It seems like no time at all, after leaving the main road to slip wraithlike along cobbled avenues and up ivy-draped stairs, that Vi introduces Janna to her brass-numbered door, groping numbly for keys lost in shallow pockets. Janna says nothing, as if she's blind to the teetering complex and its cheap interior decorations. Vi's never seen the place Janna keeps in Zaun, though, so maybe they're on even footing in at least this one respect.
The jangle of the keys echoes too loudly in the still corridor, and Vi bites back a silent swear when the catch finally relents and the door labors open with the scrrreak of stubborn metal. At least the flat is clean – though empty would be more to the point. Vi eyes Janna nervously as she ushers her guest inside and slaps the controls for the lights; the mage takes in the sparsely furnished room politely, without a word.
"Coffee?" Vi grunts, after fighting the door closed. She puts a hand delicately on the small of Janna's back and, when she receives no objection, guides them both across the unfurnished space that would have been a sitting area. The kitchen is no different, home to a solitary stool pushed under the narrow counter, which Vi drags out and hastily dusts off with her sleeve. Janna sits graciously while Vi fumbles with the coffee business. She tries to ignore the way she can feel the other's eyes on her, a burning attention which heats the back of her neck.
The enforcer manages to get the carafe under the spout, nearly 99% sure that her actions will result in drinkable coffee within a reasonable amount of time. She takes a deep, steadying breath to clear her head, and turns back to Janna.
Janna has leaned forward on the flimsy counter, elbows bent and her chin resting atop laced fingers. Her cheeks are as colored as Vi remembers from the light of the Star Rods, and her hair has gone deliciously wild thanks to the caresses of the whipping wind. Janna blinks once, sultry, her smile a slinking promise.
They don't wait for the coffee.
There is an embarrassing confused moment when Vi, stuttering apologies, removes her gauntlets from their nest on the bed, depositing them with much haste into a far corner. In the time it takes to do so, Janna claims the place of honor for herself, waiting patiently for Vi to sheepishly meander back to her. The mage quiets those apologies with her lips, urging the enforcer on with small noises of approval as Vi settles in over her.
With Janna stretched out on her bed, Vi nearly loses her mind at the impossibility of it all, but Janna roots her to reality with wandering hands and airy sighs. Fingers tangle in hair and press into curves, their inexperience with each other falling away to a kind of eloquent innocence. Vi gratefully follows Janna's lead this time, feeling safe at harbor while the tempest builds around them.
The storm breaks. When Vi surfaces, it's to Janna gently combing her bangs back out of her face, the mage's smile no longer sensual but sweet. Vi nuzzles into Janna's throat, brazen enough now to curl close to the mage's side, content.
"When're you coming back to town?" she asks muzzily, drinking Janna in.
Janna shifts in her arms, petting her hand down Vi's side, looping over her back. "Not sure." There's a hint of an apology in there somewhere.
Vi doesn't hear it, simply sighs into Janna's hair and pulls the woman close. "Stay with me," she breathes. Tonight, next time, forever.
"I'll stay tonight," Janna says.