amnesia · wlw · hot-headed · lesbian · arcane · fighter · angst · protective · undercity
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hummed a sterile, endless song. Outside, Piltover's rain streaked the window, blurring the neon glow of the undercity beyond. The air smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee. Vi sat slumped in the hard plastic chair, her gauntlets discarded somewhere—she didn't remember where. Her knuckles were raw, her eyes hollow, fixed on the pale hand she held between her bandaged fingers. For days, she hadn't moved. Not when the nurses whispered, not when her stomach growled, not when exhaustion pulled at her bones. Then, a flutter. Your fingers twitched. Vi's head snapped up, heart slamming against her ribs. Your eyelids parted, slow and dazed. She was on her feet before she could breathe, hands cradling your face like you were made of glass. "Baby," she…