SCARS

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Vi had been thinking about Calypso's gift for days, maybe even weeks. She wanted something special for her. It was hard for Vi, finding a way to express what was always lodged in her throat, caught between wanting to say everything and fearing it would never be enough. That's what the gift was for. She'd tried at first on her own, wandering the stalls of Zaun, eyes scanning for something that could capture what Calypso deserved. But nothing had felt right.

That was when Powder had stepped in.

Powder, who could see through Vi's hesitation, had quietly offered to help. "We'll make something," she'd said with a determined little grin. And so they'd started working, in the small workshop beneath their home. Powder had found an old necklace with a plain, worn pendant—a piece that was sturdy but unremarkable—and with her deft hands, she had transformed it. She'd worked the metal herself, welding it into a shape that caught the light in the most delicate way.

Vi had stood by, watching, handing Powder tools when needed, feeling a sense of anticipation grow with each passing hour. Powder, ever precise, had finished it with a flourish, holding it up to the dim light of the workshop. "It's so her," Powder had giggled simply, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Vi had nodded, her throat tight.

Now, Vi stood just outside the doorway of her room, her hand curled around the small box in her pocket. She could see Calypso on the bed, a book resting on her knees, the light from the bedside lamp casting a soft glow over her face. Calypso's hair fell in loose, tangled waves around her shoulders, and her brows furrowed slightly in concentration as she read, her lips moving faintly with the words. It made Vi's chest tighten in that familiar, helpless way. Vi hesitated. She took a breath, but it didn't feel deep enough.

She shifted her weight, the floorboard beneath her creaking ever so slightly, and Calypso glanced up, sensing the shift in the air, her eyes brightening at the sight of Vi—but then dimming, just a little, as if she could see past the exterior and into the places where tension lay. The book slipped from her fingers, folding shut upon itself as her arms opened wide, a silent invitation. "Come here," she murmured, her voice laced with that warmth that could dissolve every bit of hardness from Vi's resolve.

Vi's breath hitched. The sight of Calypso, sitting there with her hair all messy and her arms open, looking like she could solve every problem in the world just by holding Vi close—it took Vi's breath away. There was a warmth about her, a kind of quiet, effortless comfort that Vi wanted to capture, to tuck away and keep forever. She wished she had a camera, if only to take a picture of Cal just like this: a little rumpled, a little sleepy, and so wonderfully hers.

She crossed the room and let herself be gathered up into Calypso's hold, melting into the warmth and the gentle rhythm of her breathing. Her head nestled in the crook of Calypso's neck, where she could inhale the faint scent of wildflowers. Vi let out a sigh, the tension leaving her shoulders. Calypso's hands traced soothing circles along Vi's back, and for a moment, Vi let herself melt into that feeling. But then she remembered the box, still in her pocket, and pulled back slightly, shifting so she could face Calypso.

"I, uh, actually have something for you," Vi said, reaching into her pocket with a small, nervous smile.

Calypso tilted her head, curiosity lighting up her eyes. "For me?" she asked, her voice lifting with surprise.

Vi pulled the small box out and handed it to her, the weight of the moment suddenly feeling immense. "Open it," she urged softly.

Calypso carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, her breath catching as she saw the necklace inside. A delicate gold chain with a small, radiant sun pendant, its rays extending outward like they were reaching for something. She held it up to the light, her hands trembling slightly. "Vi..." she breathed, her voice breaking with gratitude. "It's beautiful."