𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗠𝗘? | vi x fem oc

II. the bridge is burning

(please comment and vote xx) do you people like songs on the top of chapters? does it help to get a feel of what the chapter might hold?
(also i like this song which is why it is here)

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Maeve sat at the bar, her fingers drumming against the counter top in fear. She was anxious, beyond anxious...she was afraid. Her usual spot in the bar used to bring her comfort, where she could see Vander working but with a small turn of her head, she could observe the bustling crowds within the Last Drop. But now, there was barely anyone in there. Only a few drunkards who were too cowardly to fight for their home.

Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, black makeshift clips in her hair to keep small strands of hair from getting into her face and her clothes were simple. A slightly baggy hoodie with a few holes in sleeves and near the bottom of the hoodie. She had a pair of discoloured green shorts on, slightly ripped as well, but she had on a pair of brown boots that went up to just below her calve muscle.

For a little while, this was her every day clothing as it's all Vander could really get, but as it fit her so well and she had slightly learnt how to use a needle and thread, she wasn't complaining. As long as Maeve could patch them up, she'd continue to wear those clothes. It was the comfort brought by regularity, for her.

Her brows furrowed deeply, her mind racing. She couldn't just sit there! Vander could be...she shook her head and stood abruptly - which was more so just her sliding off of the bar stool - and grabbed her cup. She chugged down the juice inside before placing it onto the counter, a determined look to her eye. She was going to go and find Vander, and bring him home.

So, her little nine-year-old body puffed out her chest and nodded to herself. Maeve had a spirit for being determined, even when she was supposed to have sat at that bar and waited for Vander to come home she simply couldn't.

"Imma get ya." She said to herself, glancing at the drunkards before shaking her head and running for the door. She will rescue Vander, and then they could continue living the way they always did.

Maeve navigated the streets of the Undercity with precision, her feet striding quickly and as though she had down it a thousand times before. They carried her quickly and steadily, even when she had to almost run into alley ways just to turn in time to make the route shorter and less conspicuous.

Her lungs were almost screaming at her, but she kept huffing out air as she ran. She was determined to make it to the bridge without stopping, without any delay. Although her steps slightly faltered. The bridge was head, a little distance away but still ahead.

From even there, Maeve could hear the loud BANGS of guns going on, the screams of the Undercity's residents that fought bravely to make a change. She could almost hear the grief and sorrow in the air as the wind blew passed her, moving her hair to the side a little once she had stopped.

Her chest heaved, her mind swirled. She was panicking that, just maybe, Vander had met the same fate as so many unfortunate souls had on this bridge. Maeve felt stuck, frozen in time as she stared. Her blue eyes got glossy, her cheeks rosy as she did her best not to cry.

She remembered the night she lost her parents, she still dreamt of it. It was only two years ago, after all, but Maeve found the wounds to still be fresh. To still think back to how they had been ripped away from her without mercy whilst she slept, only to wake and watch her father murdered before her eyes.

"No..." Maeve's soft voice whispered as her feet began walking again. The orange sky burned above her, glaring with anger at the fighting sides of Piltover and the Undercity. She couldn't help but whisper "no" over and over until she was screaming it.

So many bodies lied motionless by her feet, their lives no longer theirs. Their souls no longer there. So many faces were familiar to her; so many she had seen in the streets passing her by or in the Last Drop for a pint. There were so many lives lost.

Maeve stopped running, her feet slowly moving throughout the bridge of corpses. Even now, as the little girl walked across the bridge in hopes of finding her mentor, explosions and gunshots rang through her ears, along with the screams and cries of pain that loomed in the air. She felt her saliva go thick as she tried to swallow her stomach that felt like it had risen.

"No..." she mumbled, her eyes searching frantically. With hope, she continued. Hope to see Vander, hope to see anyone alive. She had managed to make it across most of the way, her little body shielded by the red smoke that felt hot on her skin. 

Her feet continued to carry her across the bridge, her fingers fiddling together anxiously, before her name was called. Then a gun was cocked. Maeve flinched and slowly turned around to face whomever was behind her, her eyes wide with fear. 

They connected with the blue and gold armor clad enforcer that stared her down, gun pointing at her. She let out a shaky breath, her eyes staring the enforcer down but she could only see her reflection in the glass of the enforcer's mask. She found herself looking terrified, weak.

The enforcer's finger twitched on the trigger of the gun, hesitant to pull the trigger. He didn't want to be the reason the kid in front of him died, not when she looked at him the way she did. So much fear in her eyes for someone so young.

THWACK.

A cast-iron gauntlet was pushed into the side of the enforcer's head with force. It belonged to a large, strong and burly man with dark brown hair and a short yet precise beard. With anger flooding his eyes, Vander continued to pummel and fight the enforcer, his protectiveness towards Maeve overbearing any rational way of simply knocking the enforcer out.

Maeve was stunned as she watched the scene unfold. Her mentor unleased an anger onto the enforcer, something she had never seen from Vander before. She wanted to say it terrified her, but she wasn't afraid. Not of him.

The enforcer had a gun on her, about to pull the trigger, and now the gun was scattered and the enforcer was never to stand up again. But, after finishing with what he was doing to the enforcer, he looked towards Maeve. He was afraid she'd fear him.

Little Maeve wrapped her arms around him tightly, her head only just reaching his waist. She stayed there for a moment, eyes clenched shut and tears slowly falling. She was surrounded by death whilst the bridge burned.

After a moment she looked up, her eyes connecting with the sight of two other people. A pink haired girl that was slightly - seemingly - taller than her, and a blue haired girl that was clinging to the other for dear life.

"Vander." She called, pointing the other children out with a frown. She slowly began to walk towards them, ensuring to keep her expressions kind. She might not understand much about the world yet, but she knew enough to know that these children were like her. Products of the same war. The war of the Topside and them.

She wasn't too far away from them, only now being able to see their features.

The pink haired girl had stern features, sharp. Her nose, jaw and cheekbones were sharp but her cheeks had given her a slight soft look to her at the same time. She made sure to be slightly in front of the blue haired girl, her powder blue eyes staring at Maeve with fear and unease.

But the younger, blue haired girl wasn't as fearful. She was confused and her eyes were wide and innocent. She stared at Maeve with her head slightly tilted, and yet she still used the girl beside her as a shield against the reality of what happened on the bridge.

"Hi." Maeve's voice was soft, gentle and kind. Her eyes were doing their best to provide comfort to the girls as she looked at them. She opened he mouth to stay something else  when Vander stood just a little bit behind her. She turned to look at him, but he was glancing elsewhere. Looking where he was, Maeve felt her stomach drop a little. A pile of two bodies made her frown.

She could see, by glancing at the two distraught girls, that it was their parents. And suddenly, when thinking of this, the world seemed much colder to her, regardless of how hot the licking flames were.

~

AUTHOR'S NOTE

i thought here was a good place to end this one. How do you like it?