The Aftermath : A Caitvi Story

Chapter V: Collision

Vi

The robe is too soft, but considering her outer clothes are covered in blood and dirt, the plush lavender fabric will have to do. Vi walks tentatively toward Caitlyn's slightly open door, gently pushes it open... and stops. There Caitlyn sits, on the foot of her bed, brushing her damp cobalt-blue hair. Caitlyn's room. Vi remembers every detail. Still, somehow, it evokes the sense of comfort and nostalgia often reserved for one place: home. Caitlyn's back is to Vi. She hasn't yet noticed she's not alone. Vi knows it's... creepy, but she can't help but savor this moment of vulnerability.

Finally, Vi is free to just look at her. The delicate, long fingers brushing through the blue strands. A drop of water slides down her wrist, disappearing into the thick sleeves of her robe—a mirror to the one Vi now wears. Is she not wearing anything underneath? The thought brings heat to Vi's face. How mature.

Caitlyn looks so relaxed, younger. After the bombing of the council, Caitlyn seemed to fade behind a mask of pain and anger. But now, the woman sitting on the far corner of the bed is her Caitlyn.

Suddenly, Vi wonders if Maddie has seen this side of the fearsome commander. Vi wishes she could unthink that question. Her desire turns sour. This isn't her Cait. There was never a Caitlyn that belonged to Vi. With Vi.

Oil and water. Oil and water. Oil and water...

The mantra steadies her. Vi steels herself. "Cait?"

Caitlyn

How do I make amends? How do I tell her how I feel? What she means to me?

"Cait?"

Vi's voice shocks her out of the downward spiral she'd found herself lost in. Caitlyn turns abruptly, dropping her hairbrush on the floor. Vi stands in the doorway, hair lightly plastered to her pale, freckled forehead. The dye must have been partially temporary, as pink peeks out across her head. Caitlyn can't help but giggle.

Vi looks faintly insulted. "What?"

"Nothing, I just– you look..." Adorable. Cute. Two words that rarely apply to the unruly brawler. But wrapped in a fluffy robe, her hair a damp mess... And, Caitlyn realizes, "No eyeshadow?"

Vi leans against the wooden bedpost, revealing Cait's medical bag in her hand, a coy smirk dancing on her lips. "Well, I didn't exactly have time to grab my stuff before we were almost blown to pieces. What, is my ugly shining through?"

"You look younger," Caitlyn responds, then swallows. "Cute."

Vi's cheeks begin to match her natural hair as she clears her throat and nervously sits on the opposite corner of Caitlyn's bed. Caitlyn's hands shake as she stands, walks toward Vi, and sits down next to her.

"Lie down," Caitlyn orders.

Vi

Caitlyn's commanding tone sends a shock of electricity scattering through Vi's body and pooling within her...

She takes a deep breath and lies back, her feet dangling off the bed, with Caitlyn perched to her right. Vi barely registers Caitlyn opening the bag and pulling out tools. She's glad she had the foresight to leave her underclothes on—the wrap around her torso just covering her breasts.