Tags: Sona, Vayne, Drama, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort.

Shauna grunts in pain as she blindly opens the window and shoves her weak bleeding body inside the familiar gloomy chamber through its opening. She instantly collapses face first on the floor, and the injured vampire hisses as Vayne's vision swims for a few brief seconds. The huntress sighs as she slowly manages to lift her face from the floor, one of her extremely pale hands clenching the gaping hole at her side.

Thump, Thump.

The tormented huntress scowls in annoyance as she eyes the torn bleeding flesh peeking from the remnants of her bloodstained outfit. She had been too slow, too careless and confident. The Night Hunter had predicted the presence of the dark witch at the time, but Vayne hadn't taken into consideration the great numbers of Corrupted or the small army of undead servants the damn witch had hastily summoned to attack her.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The sound of hesitant, albeit hurried footsteps and the sudden light bursting out from a hex-tech lamp suddenly distracts the cursed noblewoman and Vayne instantly raises her loaded wristbow. The silver-tipped crossbow bolt abruptly shining under the hex-light and posed to kill before the bleeding huntress fortunately recognizes the visibly shocked person that's currently observing her, and refrains from launching the deadly projectile.

Sigh..

The wristbow is lowered as Vayne somehow stands up and proceeds to silently limp her way towards the bathroom's door, a clearly anxious Sona following her new roommate close behind her.

Damn, amidst her pain and her blood loss-induced dizziness Shauna had almost forgotten that she was now supposed to share her living quarters with the Maven of the Strings until the damage caused to the dorms by Ziggs explosive antics had been repaired. Vayne generally preferred her solitude, but for one defying the orders of the Summoners was a hustle that Shauna would much like to avoid if possible and two, Sona was a considerate and quiet person that wouldn't disturb her hunts and operations too much, if at all. The Night Hunter pitied the poor unlucky soul that would have to live together with the psychotic Loose Cannon or the bubbly Lady of Luminosity for the next few days.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Shauna grunts once more as she hastily opens the bathroom's door while removing her cape and then carefully sets down her enormous crossbow on the pristine white tiles of the floor. The young wounded vampire refrains from switching on the lights as the injured huntress puts her scarlet shades inside the mirror's cabinet, Vayne's vampiric vision more than enough for the fallen noblewoman to recognize her immediate surroundings. The cursed huntress briefly examines her pale visage in the mirror and her hellish crimson eyes that glow in the dark before she starts removing the torn remnants of her shredded bodysuit.

"…"

"I apologize for disturbing you Maven, I will clean the mess I've made once I am healed in a few hours or so."

Sona remains silent, but hesitates to leave and Vayne just assumes that the mute Ionian musician is just overwhelmed by the sight of her fiery ruby orbs that are presently glowing in the room's shadows. Most mortals, even her fellow Demacians would find her appearance and presence unnerving after all, and that's one of the biggest reasons that Shauna would use her red goggles to hide her hellish, inhuman pupils. The cursed Night Hunter doesn't really mind the blatant way that people are avoiding her. Friends and social interactions had become hindrances and signs of weakness for her after she had vowed to cleanse Valoran of the wretched disease that was her nightmarish kind.

*Shredding

The black skintight fabric has finally been completely removed, peeled away with a few quick deftly tugs and a short series of small hisses of pain. Another human would have definitely shuddered at the terrible wounds that hid underneath the pale huntress' imposing attire.

But not Shauna Vayne of course. Although Shauna hadn't considered herself a human being for at least two decades.

And so the tormented noblewoman merely glances at the myriad of bite marks and the deep cuts littering her milky flesh before she sighs and grudgingly lies inside the simple white bathtub. There is no reason for the fallen noblewoman to dirty more of the room and the furniture than she has already stained with her sanguine flowers that are reeking of copper. There is no reason for the cursed champion to showcase her vile nature before her new innocent Ionian roommate.

*Deep breath

Shauna closes her eyes as she tries to sleep in order to escape the pain of her wounds, mentally urging her healing factor to kick in while the looming shadow of unconsciousness begins to swallow her tired mind. The wretched being releases a small breath when her consciousness quickly starts fading away, meaning that either the blood loss has finally taken its toll on her or that the familiar black shades of her bathroom and the sensation of something sturdy behind her disheveled head were subconsciously drawing out her inner vampire into a twisted sense of comfort and safety.

"…"

The Night Hunter abruptly opens her eyes when Sona suddenly sits on the bloodstained floor and gently takes a hold of her scarred pale hand, the mute musician's thumb brushing small soothing circles across the injured vampire's marble epidermis. The Ionian spell caster knows from experience that Vayne's vampiric nature would turn any form of light-attribute spell into a vile curse, and that healing charms would do more harm than help Vayne recover.

"I am fine, my wounds will heal in a few hours. You may go now, Maven." Says the fallen noble, but the mute support merely shakes her head and Shauna sighs as she eyes the young woman's ruined blue dress, its silky fabric stained by her spilled vile lifeblood.

…

The silence seems to be stretching for endless eons as Shauna fixedly observes the Ionian woman through half-lidded inhuman eyes that would have probably made famous warlords shudder in fright and courageous soldiers run away in fear and abandon their precious weapons.

"Do what you want." Finally mutters the wounded vampire after a couple of tense minutes.

The Night hunter isn't particularly used to acts of love and kindness. Most people would just ignore her or finish the job instead of extending a helping hand if Vayne was ever in danger. And yet Sona is now sitting on the bloodied floor of their small dark bathroom while holding the hand of a wounded monster.

Heh, every pureblood Clan in Demacia had turned its back on her only for an Ionian orphan to instantly come to her aid. Shauna almost smiles at the irony of the whole situation. She probably would have, but the cursed noblewoman doesn't actually remember of how to smile anymore, and the sight of her pointy canines would have probably scared off her stubborn caregiver.

The delicate hand stroking her crimson palm is soft and warm, so unlike her own fleshly tools of violence and murder. Vayne sighs once more as she closes her eyes and lets the gloomy room before her gaze disappear from her blurry vision. But before the room vanishes the cursed vampire does catch a glimpse of the Maven's gentle azure-colored orbs. Sona' striking sky blue stare is quietly examining the older woman's terrible wounds with something akin to unconcealed hopelessness and visible concern before the hunter's eyelids suddenly bar this so utterly inconceivable discovery.

"It doesn't hurt." Lies Vayne as Sona reassuringly squeezes her hand and brushes a few locks of raven black hair behind the wounded vampire's ear.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I'll survive."

She always does, she always will. It is a part of the horrible curse that she bears. It is a part of being a wretched creature of darkness.

But the mute Maven's only response is another delicate hand joining the first one in safeguarding the Night Hunter's abused pale appendage as Sona resumes stroking the wounded vampire's torn and bruised digits with even more care and tenderness.

"It doesn't hurt." Vayne whispers once more, but she turns her face away from the caring support as a lone tear silently slides down her pale inhuman visage.

But it does hurt. It hurts a lot and the cursed Night Hunter isn't used to such immense acts of pure kindness. Or at people that refuse to back down and leave her alone when she is in pain.

"I don't need your help. I don't need anybody." Utters Shauna in the darkness and Sona's only response is to lean forward and silently embrace the wounded bloodstained Night Hunter.

Notes: Another little writing experiment, this time I wanted to try my hand on a friendship story and see if specific sound effects can keep a tame scene alive without the use of complex descriptions and dialogues. I think that I failed, but even so I really like the final result.

"It doesn't hurt." Breathlessly mutters Shauna as Sona starts poking her in her terrible wounds.

"It doesn't hurt." Repeats the injured vampire when the Ionian support suddenly shoves an entire finger inside the bleeding hole at her side.

"I don't need your help." Grunts the Night Hunter when Sona starts poking her with a long pointy stick.

"I don't need anybody." Vayne venomously whispers at the crowd of Demacian champions that's patiently waiting for their turn with sticks on their hands and visibly determined eyes just outside of her small dark bathroom.