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Windsong sighs, ruffling her hair in slight frustration as her tired eyes stare down at the messy scribbles of lines and circles, several papers and notebooks spreading around her cluttered desk, the soft glow of a tiny lamp being the only source of light inside her dark room.
Her stomach grumbles, and her vision blurs. She wonders if she had eaten at all, or if she had buried herself into her research once more, forgetting the world around her and her own needs in the process. She groans and leans back on her chair, stretching her back muscles and arms, joints pleasantly cracking at the action. Perhaps she deserves a little break, and stretching her legs could help rewire her exhausted brain and lock in for her upcoming deadline.
Right, she should get some coffee as well, courtesy of their diligent Timekeeper that always made sure to keep their supplies in order. The ley line Hunter could have never imagined she would end up inside a suitcase led by a short and scrawny girl, but again, she never imagined the world could be reversed before either.
Right.
Windsong gets up before bitter memories seize her heart, yawning and rubbing her face as she walks away from her desk, grabbing her coat more out of habit than necessity on her way out.
The hallway is quiet, the other occupants either sleeping or out in their respective business and eccentricities. Windsong had learned not to question their activities anymore and simply accepted them. The researcher silently made her way to the Wilderness, hands in her pockets, not before stopping for a few seconds in front of the neighboring door, briefly wondering if the Rusalka was inside before slightly shaking her head, not wishing to bother her with her sleepless nights.
Once outside, Windsong takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as she basks in the fine weather, a slight smile on her face as her boots trample on grass and stray twigs, losing herself in thought as she aimlessly wanders over forests and lakes.
That is, until she hears soft humming not long after, a familiar and pleasant voice tickling her ears. Her smile slightly widens as she approaches the sitting figure by the lake.
Before she can even speak the blonde woman chuckles, not even turning her head to greet the visitor. “I could hear you and smell you from miles away, comrade Windsong.”
The researcher chuckles as well, stopping a few steps away from the Rusalka. “Well, it's not like I was trying to conceal my presence, Miss Vila. If anything, shouldn't you be resting? You have classes to teach tomorrow.”
Vila slightly turns her head to look at her, her warm and blue eyes making her shudder, her smile weakening her knees. “That's a bit hypocritical coming from the woman that has barely slept these days, isn't it?”
Windsong smirks, her lilac eyes falling over her beautiful tail, leisurely swishing through the water and leaving ripples in its wake. She shrugs. “What can I say? Sleep deprivation comes with being a researcher. You, on the other hand, have no excuse.”
Vila laughs. “No excuse? Since when do I need a reason to enjoy a midnight dip?”
Windsong crosses her arms. “And be a bad example for the children? I'm appalled by your actions, teacher.”
Vila rolls her eyes at her as her head returns to the lake. “Sue me.”
The researcher huffs in amusement and leans down to remove her boots, and then her socks. She then proceeds to fold her pants up to her knees, all the while Vila observes her movements with mild curiosity.
“What are you doing, comrade?” She asks with a raised eyebrow and a wider smile.
Instead of answering, Windsong walks up to her and sits down, carefully dipping her bare feet into the water, relieved at finding out it was not freezing like the Arctic waters. Their knees were practically touching, their arms brushing against one another.
Vila softly laughs. “Felt like dipping your toes in the water as well? That's unexpected.”
“Well, it would be awkward if I just stood behind you, right?” Her eyes briefly trail her tail, wishing to reach out and caress its scales. “Besides, it's not everyday that I get to see you like this.”
That causes Vila’s eyebrow to quirk even more, her tail brushing Windsong’s bare leg as she fixes her position. “Like what, full fish mode?”
Windsong could've taken the bait, could've easily fallen into their familiar banter and lighthearted teasing built after months of hardships and shared joys. Instead, her expression softens and her smile warms up as her gentle eyes fall onto blue oceans. “Comfortable with yourself.”
The Rusalka’s eyes widen, mouth slightly agape as she stares at her, seemingly stunned into silence. Windsong wonders if she said something weird, or perhaps a bit offensive. She always found her scales and enhanced abilities fascinating, but never had the courage to ask for more information, knowing it could be a touchy subject for the half-Rusalka, whom only recently started to show her hidden features inside the suitcase, to trust more people with her secret.
The poor researcher averts her eyes, burning underneath the intensity of that endearing shade of blue. “I-I mean, you know, not that there's anything to be ashamed of, but I know how reserved you are about your circumstances and I thought that—”
A hand on her knee stops her in her tracks, her eyes darting back to the beautiful woman softly smiling at her. “Windsong,” Vila giggles, the sound making her heart do multiple flips. “Relax, I know what you mean. It just took me by surprise, that's all.”
Ignoring the way that her cold hand over her half-covered knee made her feel, Windsong subtly cleared her throat. “Surprise? What do you mean?”
Was it her imagination, or Vila’s grin seemed to sharpen? “I wasn't aware of how much attention you pay to me, comrade. I feel honored.”
The researcher’s heart stops for one second, momentarily speechless as she could feel her ears heating up. “W-Well, of course, comrade! That's what friends do, don't they?”
A mysterious glint shines on Vila’s eyes at her tumbling words, but she couldn't discern its meaning. The Rusalka simply giggles again as she removes her hand, returning to her previous position. “Right.”
“Right.” Windsong parrots, suddenly her thick coat suffocating her, the water below her knees being not enough to cool her off.
What was the deal with this sudden atmosphere? She becomes hyper aware of Vila’s shoulder touching her own, of each of her scales brushing exposed skin. Was she moving her tail on purpose around her feet? Was she starting to lean against her?
“... It's true.” Vila’s voice lowers, yet she could hear her clearly. “I do feel more comfortable here, and about being half-Rusalka. But…” Her voice trails off, and Windsong hazards a glance at her, her blue eyes lost on the lake ahead, and she gulps at the sight of such a magnificent being before pulling her eyes away, feeling unworthy of partaking in such a beautiful display. “It wouldn't be the same without you, comrade Windsong. Your presence after, well, everything , has greatly helped me to remain steadfast in the face of such adversity. I cannot thank you enough for your support.”
Her words relieve her yet hurt her all the same, a bubble of guilt rising up her throat. She gulps again. “I…I didn't do much, Vila. Your strength alone is what makes you so resilient.” She sighs, before a small grin twists her pursued lips as she crosses her arms, pale eyes resting over the lake as well. “If anything, I feel like your presence alone is enough to bring anyone out from the depths of despair. Like a lighthouse amidst a heavy storm.”
She hears short laughter beside her. “Or like a siren beckoning lost sailors to their doom. I think you're giving me too much credit here, comrade Windsong.”
The researcher gently nudges her with her elbow. “Hey, I'm sure that even as a siren you would have helped anyone in need. Not to mention give them lengthy speeches about camaraderie and such.”
“Hey!” Vila nudges her back. “Are you making fun of my speeches?”
“I would never, miss Vila.”
Suddenly water splashes at her face, and Windsong blinks as she turns her gaze towards the culprit. “Oi! What was that for?”
“I don't know what you're talking about, comrade.” Vila's tail quickly moves away as if trying to conceal its crime.
The ley line Hunter wipes the water away, grinning. “What happened to the kind and demure teacher that I met?”
Her blue gaze meets hers, her sharp fang glistening underneath the moonlight as her grin widens, sending shivers throughout her body as if electrified. Were her shimmering scales rising too, or was it just an effect of Windsong’s allured mind and quickening heartbeat? “And what happened to the insecure and aloof ley line researcher that I met?”
Windsong scoffs, yet she's reigned in by Vila’s entrancing beauty, unable to pull away as if under an unshakable spell. How many times they shared moments like these, in which they simply stared at one another, lost in each other's eyes? The researcher wishes to trace her fingers down her cheek, right over the scales that connect her jaw and neck, to run her hand down her silky hair and fiddle with her long braids. Oh, she wishes for so much, for so many unattainable things.
She suddenly realizes how close they are, how Vila’s shallow breathing brushes against her lips as her blue eyes drown all her surroundings, until her lungs are unable to function without them. Her own breathing hitches, her whole body stiffens, and she briefly wonders if this is how it feels to be drawn by a mermaid at sea, if this is how it feels moments before being completely devoured.
She wants this, she realizes. She wants Vila.
And that realization makes her come back to her senses at the last second and pull away, completely breaking the spell in the process, shattering their perfect little world and Vila’s heart.
The Rusalka's visible confusion and hurt does not help her case. Windsong refuses to meet her gaze as she scrambles to her feet. “I, uh, I-I have to go, sorry.”
“Windsong—”
“I'll see you tomorrow.”
The researcher picks up her boots and socks and quickly walks away from her friend, without looking back nor caring about stomping barefoot on grass and dirt as she makes her way back to her room.
Her heart beats so fast her chest hurts.
She curses her own cowardice, her own unwillingness to attain a reachable dream, practically handed to her in a silver platter.
A few inches, and she would've sealed their fate. A slight push, and she would've closed the distance between them, finally putting an end to their lingering gazes and furtive glances, to this endless push-and-pull dance that teetered over the edge of an endless abyss.
But Windsong is a big coward, and wishes for everything yet nothing at once.
That night she barely manages to catch some sleep, all her thoughts occupied by a certain blonde Rusalka, and by her own foolishness at refusing to be dragged underneath the waters by her.
Life is slowly returning to normal. At least, that's what Vila likes to think.
She sighs contentedly as another class comes to a close, the sun shining above them as the kids diligently start cleaning their mess and putting away their art supplies without needing the teacher to remind them. Vila does too with her own supplies, quickly counting heads before dismissing her children to their other classes with a big and reassuring smile, not before wiping away some paint from Avgust’s face and fixing his messy collar.
Most of them stopped asking about Rayashki, and had slowly settled into the routine of the SPDM, eager to learn and grow to continue carrying the legacy of their old town. The Rusalka couldn't be more proud of them, and fervently wished for their dreams and ambitions to be fulfilled.
And that left her alone once more, the woman still not used to all this free time in her hands, previously used to always keeping them busy as the town always needed help with tasks or something needed to be fixed or townspeople needed to be heard.
But here, at the Foundation? Everything was taken care of, all their needs met and fulfilled. They no longer needed to work to earn their meals, no longer needed to ration what little they had left to eat, or worry about the harsh winter or their mines running out of resources again. Everything here was a given, and despite Vila’s complaints she knew she had absolutely no power here, no sway in her voice as she became just another member to be looked after. Even inside the suitcase they had their own rules and lifestyles, each Arcanist in their own world and helping out in their own way to the Timekeeper’s cause.
It was strange, this normalcy. After a life on the run and of being shunned just because she was born, Vila finds herself unable to settle in, this type of life unfit for someone as restless as her. Rayashki used to be her whole world, and without it she stumbled aimlessly into a bigger and messier painting, one she could not fix alone or had any control over its strokes and brushes, one she could not paint over.
Rayashki’s woes were but a simple backdrop against the devastation caused by the Storms. What was the point of anything, if it would get eventually erased and reset?
Where does that leave her?
Vila sighs, shaking those pessimistic thoughts away. It's not like her to think this way, another effect of her calmer and predictable routine. Perhaps she should ask Vertin to take her on more missions, if anything to feel useful and that she was contributing to fixing the world. Even the smallest ripple could grow into a fierce wave, after all.
But first, she needs to grab something to eat. Another perk from the Foundation; food available at all times. Even chocolate, which was a rare and scarce delicacy back home. She would need to make sure the kids were not taking too much advantage of that.
These labyrinths of hallways and corridors and checkered tiles are starting to be familiar now, the Rusalka navigating through them with ease as she nods at other employees and instructors passing by, some new and others known. She waves at other kids, making sure to smile at them, softly laughing when a little girl collides against her leg and apologizes profusely, tears at the corner of her eyes. She pats her head before saying it's alright, that she barely felt the hit, which was completely true. She takes out a wrapped picrasma candy from her pocket and gives it to her, which causes her to beam and forget her guilt, her smile and gratefulness warming the teacher's heart.
Yes, this is why she loves being a teacher, why she loves kids. She pats the girl's head again before resuming her trek to the cafeteria, her mind already busying itself with what remained of her schedule.
The scales on her neck start prickling, and Vila's thoughts halt, as well as her steps. She lifts her eyes from the ground and finds herself face to face with a taller and familiar woman, her lilac eyes wide as she seems to freeze on the spot as well, one of her hands holding a coffee cup.
Vila smiles. “Comrade Windsong.”
Her voice seems to take the researcher out of her stupor, and she tries her best to shake off the awkwardness irradiating from her body, which she finds endearing, honestly. “A-Ah, good morning, comrade Vila.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Morning? It's already lunchtime, my friend.”
Even without her heightened senses she could feel her muscles tensing. “Huh? Oh, oh, right, my bad. I, uh, I overslept a little today.”
She nervously chuckles, and Vila can't help but grin at her clumsy display, trying so hard to act normal, as if she hadn't purposely avoided her for days now after that night at the lake. She crosses her arms as she regards her with slight amusement. “Windsong, it's alright. I'm a big girl, I can deal with rejection. But that doesn't mean we can't be friends, right?”
Windsong’s eyes seem about to burst out of their sockets. “H-Huh? What are you talking about? I didn't…!—Uh…”
Vila tries to hold in her laughter, but a short breathless laugh escapes her lips nonetheless. “I know, which is why I said not to worry. Aren't you going to eat something as well? You should take the chance now before you get lost on a cave or a mountain again.”
Windsong’s grip on her cup tightens. “I didn't get lost! I was merely searching for ley lines and happened to fall into a maze. Nothing I couldn't handle.”
Vila rolls her eyes. “Right, miss researcher. As if you hadn't almost starved to death before Laplace found you.”
Windsong frowns. “Are you trying to get me mad on purpose?”
The Rusalka shrugs innocently. “No, I'm trying to get something to eat, in fact. Since you're here as well, you're eating lunch with me now.”
“Huh? But I already got stuff to do—”
Vila does not wait for her to finish and grabs her free hand, which causes Windsong to immediately stop talking, as if she had just flipped a switch. She offers no resistance and lets herself be dragged back inside the cafeteria she was trying to leave before. Vila does not let go of her hand until she buys food for both of them, which causes her friend to frown.
“Because I know you don't have any money left, comrade.”
Windsong does not reply to that.
t's strange to get used to the variety of food being offered as well, even when not all of it is as tasty as the food comrade Patrik used to make. But it's a nice change of pace to have something else besides potato or porridge. Vila finds an empty table not far from the counter and they both sit across from each other.
Windsong hesitates before taking a fry, munching and swallowing before speaking. “I…thank you, Vila. I was in fact hungry.”
The Rusalka simply chuckles. “I know you were, which is why I dragged you here. I could hear your stomach grumbling several buildings away.”
Windsong slightly grins. “That's bullshit.”
She gently kicks her shin. “Language, miss. There's some children here as well.”
The ley line Hunter shrugs and cuts a piece of fried fish. “As if you hadn't accidentally let out a curse in front of them before.”
“I never did.” She reassures, savoring a piece of fish.
“But the children did, right?”
At her silence, Windsong’s grin widens. “It can't be helped. You can't say you never cursed before when you were a child.”
Vila lowers her eyes, forking another piece of fish as she muses. “Hmm, I can't really remember. I didn't exactly have a normal childhood.”
Windsong pauses mid bite, lowering her fork. “Ah…right. Sorry.”
Vila waves her hand in the air. “Don't worry. It's in the past now.”
The researcher smiles, albeit there's a faint trace of sadness in it. “You've been through a lot, haven't you?”
Her gentle and caring tone makes her pulse spike, and she narrowly avoids choking on a fry and passes it as clearing her throat. One of her hands starts fidgeting with the knife. “I think we all have, Windsong. There's nothing special or different about me.”
“There is.” Her reply is so fast it momentarily stuns the Rusalka. She feels her scales tensing in tandem with her slightly reddened cheeks, and Windsong is not faring any better as her pale face lights up as well. “I-I mean, special, that is. You are, uh, unique.”
She slightly winces at her poor wording, even when it makes Vila feel all fuzzy inside. She can't help but lightly giggle, leaning her face against her hand. “Oh my, are you calling me a weirdo?”
Windsong’s eyes go wide. “What? No! I didn't mean it like that!”
This time Vila laughs louder, which seems to embarrass the flustered researcher even more. “It's quite alright, really. I am a weirdo. I mean, half human and half Rusalka? To say I'm a freak it's putting it lightly.”
“Vila…” Windsong whispers, casting her eyes down.
The Rusalka's expression softens. “I'm just joking, comrade. I no longer loathe my origins. If anything, I like to believe I embody what's good from both sides, and hope to breach the distance between our people someday.”
Windsong’s eyes meet hers, her smile returning. “I'm sure you will. I don't think there's anyone else on this planet more stubborn than you.”
“Back at you, comrade.” Vila chuckles, eyes twinkling with delight.
The ley line researcher sneers. “Guess we're both stubborn fools that refuse to give up.”
“Indeed.”
More small talk follows as they finish up their meals, both talking about their respective days and Windsong stressing out about her upcoming lecture and deadline. Vila relaxes, she realizes, whenever she talks with the passionate Arcanist, and could hear her drone on and on about any subject. Their plates were long empty once they stood up and left the cafeteria, walking back to the Foundation’s main building.
“I'm leaving in two days,” Windsong starts, walking beside her with her hands in her pockets. “Not sure for how long, but probably for a while. If you need anything, or want anything from my trips, feel free to drop by my room and tell me.”
Vila tries to hide her disappointment, selfishly wishing for the researcher to remain longer here, yet knowing her work needed her out there, mapping ley lines and investigating diverse kinds of critters and monsters. She is a traveler, a nomad, unlike Vila who had outgrown that type of lifestyle by now, preferring to fall into some sort of stability, rooted into the ground. She pretends to mull over her proposal. “Hmm, I have nothing particular in mind. Perhaps you should ask the children instead, they are more eager about learning about the world out there and understand its advanced technology.”
“And you're not curious yourself? If only you saw the machines and devices back in Laplace…” She trails on, probably fantasizing about said machines and devices.
Vila simply chuckles. “A little bit, I'll admit, but not enough to venture out there, not yet. I'll leave that to you youngsters.”
Windsong snickers at that. “Jeez, Vila, stop talking like a grandma. You're only a few years older than me.”
The Rusalka flicks her arm. “So you should listen to your elders then, and get more healthy food and sleep into your system, as well as drink more water instead of only consuming caffeine.”
She could practically feel Windsong rolling her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.”
They reach the spot in which their paths diverge, and Vila wishes she could make time go slower, to chat longer with her friend and hear her laughter and see that spark in her eyes whenever she discusses her interests, to gaze into that gentle and passionate shade of lilac.
Suddenly the air between them becomes awkward again, both unsure on how to part ways, reluctant even. Vila fidgets with the end of her scarf before smiling up at the taller woman. “Well, comrade Windsong, I'll go see you before you go on your trip. If you need anything before that, you know where to find me.”
“Right.” Windsong does not move at all, and neither does Vila.
She slightly frowns, noticing the taller woman’s restlessness and hesitation. “Is something the matter, Windsong?”
Windsong parts her lips, but no words come out. Her eyes look frantic, and she could practically hear the gears running in her head. Is her face slightly reddened as well?
“Vila,” she starts, and her own heart does a small jump at the way in which her name rolls off her tongue so effortlessly. Her eyes are downcast, hands tightly clenched inside her coat. “I…”
Vila holds her breath.
Windsongs slowly exhales. “...You should think about yourself too. About what you wish to do, and about what you want too. I know you’re a selfless person to the core, but it's precisely because of that I can’t help but worry. Especially after…well, you know.”
The Rusalka silently stares at the awkward yet endearing researcher, her own cheeks slightly warmer at understanding the source of her concern. She takes a step forward, to be directly under the taller woman’s eyes, and to gently grab her sleeve. “...You’re really sweet, Windsong. But I’m fine, I promise.” Her grip slightly tightens as she closes her eyes. She lowers her voice. “Or at least, I will be, in due time. I just wish…you could stay a little longer.”
“Come with me.” Windsong’s reply is so fast and resolute it causes Vila to snap her eyes open, blue searching for lilacs with shock. She quickly clears her throat. “T-To my trip, I mean. You could help me investigate and we can explore and you can even bring your art supplies and paint or…or just relax and enjoy the view while I investigate or—”
She stops at the sound of Vila’s merry laughter, and probably due to the fact that she had stepped closer while doing so, the Rusalka practically leaning on her now. “Oh, Windsong,” She slightly heaves, her smile as wide as her heart that soars at the sight of the researcher. “You are so lovely.”
“H-Huh…?” Clearly Windsong is not on the same wavelength as her.
Vila chuckles as she shakes her head in slight disbelief. She lifts one of her hands and gently places it on Windsong’s cheek, which causes her whole body to stiffen and her breathing to halt. Her thumb softly brushes pale skin. “While your proposal sounds wonderful and I would really love to go on one of your trips, I’m afraid I have to decline. I…I can’t, not yet. Not until I’m certain this is the right place for the kids. I…I’m sorry.”
To her surprise, Windsong chuckles slightly. “Don’t be, I get it. The offer stands in any case, for whenever you feel ready or want to take it.”
Vila’s smile softens, and they silently stare into each other’s eyes for what feels like an eternity. All she wants is to lean even closer, to close that short yet abysmal distance between them, to finally listen to her loud heart and allow herself to be selfish for once.
Instead, she leans in and leaves a short and quick kiss on her cheek, slowly pulling away and giving a step back as she relishes in Windsong’s utterly shocked expression. She giggles, feeling lightheaded as well. “What, comrade? Has no one kissed you on the cheek before?”
“H-Huh…? What…?” Windsong is clearly not in the right mental state, which only spurs the Rusalka even more.
She’s as dense as a brick wall.
“Nothing, comrade.” She decides to be merciful and drop the topic, one hand going over her forehead in her usual salute. “I’ll be seeing you later. Take care, alright?”
And before Windsong can recover and remember how to string words together, the Rusalka turns around and makes her way back to the school, all the while her heart beating loudly against her ribcage.
Heavens, she wonders if perhaps she had gone a bit too far with her teasing. Just how much more obvious she needs to be until Windsong takes the hint? The researcher is so smart and clever yet the matters of the heart clearly fly over her pretty head.
But Vila is very patient, and willing to wait for the Arcanist to realize and understand her feelings in her own way. In the same vein, there was nothing wrong with nudging her in the right direction every once in a while, right? She couldn’t deny loving the sight of Windsong clumsily stumbling over her words, or so shocked words would not even come to her rescue.
Vila starts happily humming a song as she enters the school building.
As soon as Windsong closes the door behind her, she leans against it and slowly lets herself fall to the floor, hands on her head as she tries desperately to calm down her erratic heartbeat.
It was just a small and friendly kiss, nothing more. It was just Vila being Vila, her wonderful and kind and beautiful self—
“ Ugh …!” She pulls her hair, cheeks on fire. The scene at the lake flashes through her flustered mind, the sensation of her lips still lingering on her cheek. How would those lips feel against hers instead? Or her sharp fangs over her skin?
“Get a grip, Windsong,” She mutters to herself, crossing her arms over her raised knees and resting her head over them, closing her eyes. “Get a goddamn grip. There’s stuff to do.”
She has to compose herself for several minutes before finally managing to stand up again, her wobbly knees carrying her back to her messy desk, where several unfinished notes and reports wait for her.
She takes a deep breath, forcing her brain to focus back on work for the remainder of the day.
Windsong has been gone for two months now.
Vila absentmindedly traces over her sketchbook as she diligently obeys Miss Tooth Fairy and stays in bed until her wounds recover. No matter how much she insists on being fine and assures she is more physically resilient than humans or Arcanists, the young and peculiar doctor refuses to let her go back to her job so she is currently stuck in the Foundation’s hospital wing.
Still, the Rusalka has no regrets. She had protected Avgust from an ambush from Manus on a field mission, and she would do it all over again if needed. The children visited her whenever they could, and her bedside table is covered with their drawings, cards, flowers and different trinkets they had seen fit as a gift. Vila couldn't be happier.
Or perhaps she could, considering that her mindless doodle turns out to be a portrait of a certain ley line researcher her heart deeply misses. She stops her hand, running a finger down her face with longing.
They manage to communicate with letters, but it's not as often as Vila wished, considering some of the remote places Windsong visits and how busy she is. Of course, she omitted in her latest letter the fact she had been gravely injured, deciding she shouldn't worry the researcher when she is so far away. She could simply retell it as an anecdote once she returned.
She continues sketching, and sleeps and eats until the day is over. Once she's ready to go to sleep is when she hears quick footsteps and smells a familiar scent approaching her room, followed by the slight rising of the scales in her neck.
No, it couldn't be.
Vila's eyes go to the door as it slides open, revealing a somewhat disheveled and out of breath Windsong, whose lilac eyes fall directly over her blue ones.
“Windsong…?” Vila whispers, quickly closing her sketchbook as her heart starts beating faster.
The researcher wordlessly walks in, until she is right beside her and slightly leans in. “Vila! What happened? Are you alright?!”
Vila remains silent for a few seconds, as if wondering if she is real, as if she perhaps fell asleep and didn't notice.
“Avgust asked Mister Name Day to send me a telegraph,” she offers as an explanation, her breathing still unsteady. “You were unconscious for days. Why…” she stops, deeply frowning. “Why didn't you say anything?”
Vila returns to her senses, and a soft smile replaces her shock. “Because I was unconscious?”
“ Vila.” Windsong’s exasperation makes her smile slightly falter.
“Alright, alright, I'm sorry,” Vila sighs as she places a hand on her shoulder. “Why don't you sit down and gather your breath first? Then I can explain.”
“...Alright.”
Once the researcher unwinds Vila tells her about the field mission and how Manus had ambushed them, and how Avgust’s life had been in danger and that she had simply protected him.
Windsong deeply sighs as she leans back into her chair, running a hand through her messy hair. “Figures. I would've done the same in your situation.”
“I know.” Vila replies with confidence.
“It's just that…” She trails off, eyes lost on the ceiling. “I wish I had been there.”
“You couldn't have known,” Vila rubs one of her arms. “Besides, it's not like you're completely safe out there either. Anything could happen to you too.”
She hears Windsong shifting position, leaning her arms against her knees. “I know, but…” she stops, rubbing a hand on her neck. “I still wish I had been there.”
Vila's gaze softens as she reaches out and grabs one of Windsong's hands. “But you're here now, aren't you?” She lightly chuckles. “You can relax now, I'm going to be fine. I just need some rest and I'll be back in action in no time.”
Windsong gently squeezes her hand as she manages a small smile. “Right.”
“Speaking of,” Vila doesn't let go of her hand and neither does Windsong. “How did you get here so fast? I thought you were all the way across Europe.”
Her smile slightly widens as she uses her free hand to take out a floppy disk from one of her pockets, holding it up with two fingers. “These things come in handy. Instant transportation to the Foundation Headquarters. They're not handed freely, though, so I already used my quota for the next few months.”
Ah, those devices. Vila had completely forgotten about them considering she had no need for them, always being in the Foundation or inside the Timekeeper's suitcase. She frowns. “Oh…that's too bad. How are you going to go back now then?”
Windsong shrugs, pocketing the now useless disk. “I'm staying here for now. I already have tons of progress in my research and can afford some rest anyway.”
Vila's heart flutters. “You didn't have to, Windsong. I don't want your hard work to go to waste because of me.”
“It's not a waste,” she replies fiercely, which causes Vila to look at her with mild shock. The researcher quickly averts her eyes and clears her throat, a faint blush on her cheeks. “I-I mean, coming here. My research is very dear to me, but so are you.”
God, is this woman aware of the effect her words are having on the lovesick Vila? Her own cheeks warm up and the tension in the air becomes thick.
Vila opens her mouth. “Windsong—”
And then the door opens again, shattering the moment as both women jump in their places, their hands back to themselves as if they got caught doing something naughty.
Tooth Fairy stands on the entrance, almost glaring at the ley line Hunter. “Visiting hours are over, miss Windsong.”
Windsong turns on her seat. “I'm sorry, ma’am, but I'm not leaving.”
Vila puts a placating hand on her arm, knowing the opponent she is facing is not someone to take on lightly. “Windsong, it's alright. Listen to her. You can come visit tomorrow morning.”
She turns to look at her, almost pleading. “But, Vila—”
Tooth Fairy crosses her arms, her expression a bit less severe. “...I can make an exception for your girlfriend, as long as she does not disrupt your rest.”
Windsong snaps her head back so fast Vila is afraid she has broken her neck in the process. “I-I-I’m not—!”
The Rusalka leans in and covers her mouth. “Thank you, Miss Tooth Fairy! We appreciate it!”
The doctor stares at them for a few more seconds before sighing and closing the door, and Vila removes her hand from Windsong’s mouth as she leans back into her bed, a short nervous chuckle leaving her lips. “W-Well, problem fixed! Now you can stay however long you want.”
The researcher slowly turns around on her seat, refusing to meet her eyes. “Y-Yeah.”
Ugh, now the atmosphere is so awkward Vila is having trouble breathing. It had seemed like a clever idea to follow along at the moment, but it brings to the surface the sort of weird relationship that they have had for months now, acting like lovers yet being anything but. She doubts Windsong realizes how she acts around her, how obvious they seem to other people except to her. Even Avgust, of all people, had asked her one day if they had kissed. Worded in his peculiar and imaginative way, of course, but still asked.
Surprisingly, Windsong is the one to break the silence first. “...Are you hungry? I brought some snacks from Germany and Vienna.”
She's not, but the idea of trying foreign food intrigues her, and she desperately wishes to break the tension between them as well. She manages to smile. “I would love to. I hope you brought some for the children too, or you won't hear the end of it.”
Windsong cracks a smile and chuckles, and it's like a window is opened and a fresh sea breeze comes in. “Of course I did. As well as some souvenirs.”
“Oh?” Vila lifts an eyebrow. “And how did you afford all that?”
“Haha.” Windsong rolls her eyes, and Vila wholeheartedly laughs in response.
Despite Windsong’s overprotectiveness and concern, it becomes clear the researcher is exhausted and once they fall back into idle chatter and more teasing and random anecdotes, it doesn't take long for her to get comfortable on the chair and fall asleep right there as Vila talks about the latest subject that had the children intrigued in the Arcanist school.
She doesn't mind, however. Glancing at Windsong’s adorable and peaceful sleeping face is a treat in itself. Vila giggles as she grabs her sketchbook and quickly doodles the researcher with a few hearts around her, silently putting it back on the desk after as she stares at her for a bit more.
She fixes her pillow closer to the edge of her bed, and takes advantage of their close distance by carefully grabbing one of Windsong's hands that rests on her knee, slowly entwining their fingers as her beloved continues to sleep undisturbed. Vila closes her eyes as a smile remains on her face.
“...Good night, my love.”
Windsong wakes up with pain in her neck.
She slowly blinks away the remnants of sleep, softly groaning as her whole body protests at the awkward position in which she remained for hours now, stopping as she realizes who is in front of her, and at the light weight of her fingers entwined with hers.
Vila is fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady, and the sight takes Windsong’s breath away.
She is gorgeous. If she could draw and paint as well as she does, she could easily pass up as an ancient painting of a goddess. The researcher carefully straightens up and uses her free hand to softly brush her cheek, right over her scales and marveling at their soft yet firm structure. She then moves a strand of blonde hair away, gently running her fingers through her head, glad to be proven right: her hair is as silky as she had theorized, well taken care of.
How can this woman have such a vice grip on her? It's unlike anything Windsong had experienced before, and didn't know how to handle. Most of her time now is spent doing research, traveling, and giving lectures on different branches of Laplace and the Foundation, and before that her obsession with ley lines kept her busy enough that she never really delved into the matters of love, and was not even interested in it either.
But Vila is special, and her heart keeps reminding her each time they see each other, and each time they're apart. She gave her a chance when Windsong was about to give up, pushed her past her comfort zone and supported her whenever she faltered. She never made fun of her profession, never made her feel that her purpose was a fool's errand. She always sees the best in people, and Windsong is no exception.
Her thumb softly brushes her lower lip, and the researcher shudders, once again wondering how it would feel like to kiss them, to hold Vila close and bask in her oceanic scent.
The Rusalka stirs, and Windsong immediately removes her hand from her face, keeping the other holding her hand. Vila slowly opens her eyes, slightly disoriented at first as her blue eyes land on lilac ones, and a smile immediately reaches her lips, causing her heart to flutter.
It is not fair when she looks at her like that, like all that matters is the researcher and their joined hands, which she softly squeezes as a greeting.
“Morning, comrade.” Her voice is sweet and a bit raspy, and it makes Windsong dizzy and weak.
“...Morning, Vila.” It takes her a bit longer to answer, too entranced by the Rusalka's beauty.
Vila grins. “What, do I have something on my face?”
That quickly makes her return to her senses, subtly clearing her throat. “Uh, no, no. I was just…a bit distracted.”
Vila’s grin sharpens. “By my face?”
To her own surprise, or perhaps due to her brain still being half-asleep, Windsong does not get flustered and blurts out her honest thoughts instead. “Yes. You're beautiful.”
The Rusalka's eyes widen, a faint blush across her face as she simply stares at the researcher with shock, speechless for once.
Windsong realizes what she said, her own cheeks warming up. “I mean, I wasn't trying to be a creep or anything and stare at you while you slept, I just didn't want to wake you up, you know? I-I uh, you need the rest and I was just trying to—”
A squeeze on her hand and soft laughter makes her stop. “Windsong,” Vila starts, highly amused. “It's alright, I don't find it creepy, not from you. In fact,” she averts her eyes, and the researcher's heart is about to burst at such a shy display from the normally proud and confident woman. “...I quite like it. Waking up next to you, or having you staring at me.”
“Y-You do? Why…?” She hesitantly asks.
Vila's gaze returns to her, an almost frustrated glint in her clear blue eyes. “Because I like you.”
Windsong feels all the air leaving her lungs. “I…I like you too, comrade.”
The Rusalka stares at her with an emotion the researcher could not decipher, before sighing and closing her eyes, as if defeated or amused, she couldn't tell.
“S-Sorry, did I say something wrong?” She asks after a brief and charged silence, unsure of what to do with herself or how to fix her mistake. The last thing she wants is having Vila mad at her.
Vila opens her eyes and softly smiles at her, albeit a bit constrained. “No, comrade. You're just so… you .”
That only further confuses her. “...Is that bad?”
Vila gently squeezes her hand again, her smile widening. “No, it's wonderful.”
She would never use such a word to describe herself, so hearing it from Vila of all people causes all sorts of sensations to go through her body, knowing she means it wholeheartedly. She lowers her eyes. “...No, that's you, Vila. Without you, I would still be lost and would've probably given up on my dream. So…thank you, really. Having you here in this messed up time means the world to me.”
Vila slowly retrieves her hand, which causes Windsong to look up with concern, just as the blonde covers herself up to her head and turns away from her. “Vila…?”
No answer. Windsong hesitantly stands up from her chair and carefully sits at the edge of the hospital bed, slightly leaning in. “Vila, are you okay—”
Suddenly, the Rusalka removes the sheets from her head and pulls the researcher down, Windsong gasping as she finds herself pinned down by her friend on the bed, unable to move.
“V-Vila?” To say Windsong is utterly confused is an understatement.
“Stop.” She hears her muffled voice from her shoulder, where she chooses to hide her face from her. “Stop saying such sweet and heartfelt things before I do something foolish.”
“Foolish…?” Windsong's heart is about to leap off her throat, her clothes and Vila's weight on her body suffocating her. “What are you talking about?”
Vila lifts her head, the expression on her eyes unreadable, her lips barely a few inches away from hers. Windsong is powerless to stop her, to move her away.
But she finds herself not wanting to do either of those, anyway. She's completely at Vila’s mercy and she doesn't mind it one bit.
Vila leans in—
And someone clears her throat.
“Excuse me, would you two do that in your rooms instead of here, please?”
The Rusalka immediately pulls away, and Windsong finds herself disappointed, just as flustered at being caught in such a… compromising position.
Vila sits up with some difficulty, the researcher following up after. “S-Sorry, miss Tooth Fairy. You see, we were just, uh, talking.”
“Uh huh.” Tooth Fairy walks in, carrying her medical tools as well as a tray of food. “I understand that you're young and in love, but please, remember there's children here as well. We don't want them to see stuff they're not supposed to see yet, right?”
Both of their faces go completely red.
“Besides.” Undeterred by their flustered behavior, she leaves the tray on the nightstand and crosses her arms in slight disapproval, looking directly at Windsong. “Miss Vila is in no condition yet to engage in such activities. Please, be a bit more patient, miss Windsong.”
Windsong can't deal with her words anymore and runs away in shame.
Tooth Fairy simply watches her leave, her brown eyes now fixed on Vila's beet red face. “Hm, have I said something strange? I assumed you two already had sexual interactions.”
Vila starts choking on her saliva, which prompts the doctor to get closer, before she lifts a hand as she regains her breath. “M-Miss Tooth Fairy,” she starts, her heart stomping against her chest. “We are, uh, not actually together. She's a bit…dense, let's say, and I was starting to feel a bit frustrated.” She sighs, hugging her knees against her chest. “So…thank you, for stopping me. I might've done something I would regret later.”
“Would you?” Tooth Fairy takes out her jar filled with fairies and starts to lightly shake it. “Because to me it seems you're both hopelessly in love with each other.”
Her brutal honesty hits her like a thunder, and Vila reels at being faced with her feelings head on. She hides her red face on her arms. “...That I am.”
“So what's wrong with taking the initiative? If you want something or someone, just go for it.”
Vila softly groans. If only it was that simple. Not with someone like Windsong, her sweet yet dumb Windsong, who could not process her own feelings properly, who seemed to always hesitate to breach the small yet gaping distance between them. She knows that pushing her so much would only scare her away.
“Ah.” Tooth Fairy seems to understand her silence. “A direct approach wouldn't work on her?”
Vila sighs. “I've been trying for months now, openly flirting and being not so subtle about my interest in her. But she…she does not take the hints. She's so smart but also, well, clueless.”
To her surprise, she hears Tooth Fairy chuckling. “Scholarly types like her are like that most of the time. Too focused on research and knowledge, that they neglect their own feelings and become emotionally stunted. She probably thinks you're just being nice, since she must not have any experience in the love department.”
Vila finds that hard to believe, since the researcher is quite handsome and her passion and stubbornness can be highly charming as well. Then again, her obsession with her research occupies most of her brain, and she doubts she has any interest in pursuing a romantic relationship.
She slowly lifts her head, a tiny smile on her lips. “You seem to be speaking from experience, miss Tooth Fairy.”
The doctor grins. “Perhaps.”
Vila sighs.
Tooth Fairy puts her jar away. “In any case, I'm here to do a routine check-up on you and then I'll be on my way. Is that alright with you?”
“Ah, yes, go ahead.” Vila sits at the edge of the bed, obediently complying with her instructions and answering her questions honestly.
Tooth Fairy slightly frowns as she taps her chin with her pen. “Would you mind opening up your mouth for me, miss Vila?”
Vila does as she's asked, the woman taking her sweet time examining her teeth, making her wonder if she has cavities of some sort.
“Fascinating.” The Doctor leans back, apparently satisfied with her examination. “It's the first time I get to examine a Rusalka's teeth. Thank you for the opportunity, miss Vila.”
Oh, so it was only curiosity. Vila chuckles. “If you wanted to do so from the start, you should've only asked, I don't mind.”
She softly shakes her head. “No, I didn't want to be rude. They're perfectly healthy, by the way. I can see you take great care of them. Of your health, in general. You could be discharged today, even.”
Vila beams at that. “Really?”
“But.” Tooth Fairy crosses her arms. “I will give you two more days off duty, to make sure you're completely recovered. Understood?”
The Rusalka itches to return to her work and duties, yet knows this was not a negotiation, so she simply nods. “Understood.”
“Alright.” Tooth Fairy briefly smiles as she takes some toffees out from her pocket, handing them to a slightly surprised Vila. “What? Candy is not meant for children only. And perhaps Miss Windsong would benefit from the sugar, to help calm her nerves.”
Vila softly laughs at that. “Perhaps.”
“Well, have a good day, Miss Vila, and I wish you a swift recovery. You're officially discharged.”
“Thank you, Miss Tooth Fairy.”
Vila sits as she waits for the Doctor to leave her room, trying to hide how overjoyed she is at finally being able to leave the hospital. She quickly starts packing up all her stuff, picking up the fresh set of clothes on the chair left behind by the children.
It's when she removes her hospital gown that the door slides open again, and Windsong walks in, a bit more composed now. “Hey, Vila, I heard that—”
Her eyes focus on her bare back and the scales dotting her upper body for a few seconds before her face turns beet red, the woman quickly closing the door as she pivots around. “I-I-I'm sorry!”
Vila's cheeks slightly warm up, though she feels more amusement than shame. “What, comrade? We're both women. You can look.”
Windsong refuses to turn around. “I-I'm good. I don't want to be rude.”
The Rusalka chuckles as she puts her bra and shirt back, finishing it off with her jacket. “Alright, I'm done.”
She can hear Windsong sighing in relief as she turns around, her face still somewhat red. “So, finally discharged, huh?”
It's absolutely adorable how nervous and awkward she sounds, and Vila smiles at the sight. “Finally, indeed. Might helping me carry all this stuff back to my room?” She signals to all her belongings on the bed.
Windsong manages a smile of her own, walking towards her. “Of course.”
Vila's smile widens as she sees her approach, and she reminds herself to thank Tooth Fairy later, for providing an insight into the stubborn and fascinating researcher.
Yes, she just needs to be more patient, to gently nudge her into the right direction.
For Windsong, Vila is willing to do anything.
Windsong could have never imagined herself in such a situation.
She's crossing her arms, her cheeks slightly flushed as she taps a finger on her arm.
Vila stands in front of her, trying to hold back her laughter. “So you really don't know how to ice skate?”
The researcher grumbles under her breath. “I never had the chance, no.”
Vila leans in, and it causes her heart to flutter. “Well, how about learning now?”
“No way.” Windsong looks away, eyes focusing on the ice rink, and the other families and couples happily circling through it. “I'm not going to make a joke of myself in front of all those people.”
“Come ooon, comrade!” Vila grabs her gloved hands, and it's unfair how quickly her resolve crumbles at her pleading and touch. “I'll be there to help you! Besides, no one is born knowing how to skate. Everyone falls and makes a joke of themselves, even the pros.”
Windsong hesitates, risking a glance towards Vila. Huge mistake. “B-But, the kids. They need to be looked after.”
Said kids were perfectly fine skating by themselves and chasing each other, clearly used to the ice and moving effortlessly through it. How easy they make it look.
Vila grins, most likely having the same thoughts. “Those kids were practically born skating and playing hockey. I’d say they're even better than me.”
“That's not reassuring,” Windsong grumbles.
“Come on, it will be fun!” Vila is leaning against her now, and Windsong is trying very hard not to look her in the eyes. She grabs her coat. “Please, for me? Please?”
Oh no, that is playing dirty with her heart. Windsong struggles with herself for a few moments before sighing and closing her eyes, resigning herself to her fate. “...Alright, fine.”
“Yes!” Vila jumps and hugs her, which causes the researcher to almost faint, and her knees to buckle.
“B-But!” She clears her throat as the blonde pulls away, beaming at her with such an intensity that her words almost got caught in her throat. “You have to be there all the time. And if I fall too much I'm tapping out, alright?”
Vila grabs one of her hands, and she wonders when such an action became so natural to her, as well as being utterly powerless against her, wrapped around her little finger helplessly. She smiles up at her, her fang peeking out from her upper lip. “Deal.”
Windsong gulps with dread, and lets herself be dragged to the small building where clerks are renting out skating boots. Vila helps her choose the right size and adjust them properly on her feet, all the while she regrets accepting this proposal, wondering if she should've come up with an excuse to avoid this Christmas outing. That the ley lines were not right, that her stomach was upset, anything.
But saying no to Vila was akin to a sucker punch into her gut, a direct and personal affront to her heart. Coupled with the children's expectant and begging gazes? Windsong simply had no chance, no room to wiggle out of this situation.
She wobbles on her feet at first, balancing herself on the blades, and Vila holds up one of her arms to stabilize her. “Alright, let's slowly walk to the rink now.”
“Is it too late to back out now?” Windsong’s stomach drops.
Vila grabs her hand as she grins. “It is, in fact. I already paid for those skates. At least for an hour.”
“An hour?!” Windsong blanches at her. “T-That wasn't part of the deal!”
“The deal was to skate, that's all. Never mentioned for how long.”
“Don't get smart with me!” Windsong frowns, starting to walk after Vila despite her protest, slowly getting used to the weird sensation of walking on sharp blades over snow.
Vila shrugs. “Can't help it, I spend too much time with you. Your smartness is rubbing off on me.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“But it got you here, right?”
“By lying and deceiving me, I might add.” They're getting closer to the rink now.
Vila feigns hurt. “I would never do that to you, comrade Windsong. I simply told you there was a lot of ice and snow, didn't I?”
They reach the border of the rink, and Windsong tenses completely. Vila pats her arm reassuringly. “Relax, Windsong. The more tense you are, the easier it will be to fall.”
“Yes, I'm totally calm.” She's not.
Vila chuckles as she steps into the ice, effortlessly slicing through the ice as she makes a few circles, testing out her skates. She goes back to Windsong and offers her hand. “Alright, your turn now.”
Windsong takes a deep breath as she carefully puts one foot on the ice, immediately panicking as it slides down and drags her other foot as well, making her lose her precarious balance. Thankfully Vila is there to catch her, bending her knees to avoid falling as well as they spin in place a few times, the researcher holding into the Rusalka for dear life.
Vila laughs loudly as she stabilizes them both, hoisting her up and holding her hands up, until Windsong manages to stand up straight again as they slowly glide on the ice. “Well, that's a nice start,” she teases, earning a glare from the taller woman. “Now, bend your knees—no, not that much, just a little bit, yes, like that. Now, lean a bit forward, push with one foot first, and then use your other foot to push yourself again, and let yourself glide—yes, exactly like that.”
Vila demonstrates to her as well how to do the movements, and patiently teaches her how to glide and then stroke, all the while holding one of her hands and catching her whenever she loses balance. She still ends up falling, but Vila is always there to help her up.
Despite her initial complaints Windsong finds herself enjoying the learning experience, or perhaps Vila’s teaching and encouragement makes it more bearable and actually fun.
Or she simply enjoys this moment with Vila, having her so close and constantly touching her and praising her when she starts to get the hang of skating, her wide smile and joyful eyes warming her up despite the cold winter wind biting her cheeks.
Windsong manages to glide alone after a while, going slowly yet progressively gaining confidence as Vila skates in front of her, purposely spinning and doing a quick few rounds around the rink to highlight her skills.
Windsong rolls her eyes when she returns to her side. “Show off.”
Vila only chuckles at that. “And you learn fast, Windsong.”
She grins. “Well, I have a good teacher. A bit talkative, however.”
“Hey!” She softly pushes her, causing Windsong to lose her balance and fall into Vila's shoulders.
“V-Vila!” Windsong lifts her head, their faces inches apart. “You almost killed me there!”
Vila laughs as she holds the researcher in her arms, feigning innocence. “If you want to hug me that badly you can just ask, you know?”
Windsong grumbles. “What if I just bury you under the snow?”
“Oh, is that so?” Vila starts to pull away.
She immediately scrambles for her shoulders. “Wait, no, don't go!”
The Rusalka snorts at her pitiful display, yet never lets her go and helps her find her balance once more.
Sooner than she thinks, the one hour mark comes in, and Windsong plunges face first on the snow outside the rink and sighs, her legs shaking under the constant strain and her butt hurting from the few times she had fallen backwards. She knows that tomorrow she will wake up sore all over.
“Are you alright, comrade?” An amused Vila squats beside her, and Windsong removes her face from the snow, slightly glaring at her yet smiling afterwards.
“... Alright, it wasn't that bad. I'm never going back in, however.”
“Aw, come on, but you did so well! A few more practices and you'll be skating like a pro in no time.” She reassures her.
Windsong scoffs. “Yeah, right. I prefer keeping my feet on firm ground, thank you very much.”
Vila softly giggles and gently pats her head, running her hand down her hair and causing her to shiver. “Alright, alright, I'm sorry. But it was fun, wasn't it? So, thank you for indulging me, Windsong.”
Windsong hides her face on the snow again, her cheeks warming up. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Her hand continues to run down her hair, to scratch her scalp soothingly. She closes her eyes as she enjoys it, almost like a cat being pet by their favorite person.
That is, until she gasps for air as all the kids throw themselves on top of her, trapping the researcher beneath them. “O-Oi!”
“We got you!” Avgust beams, slightly out of breath.
“You can't escape now!” Pyotr yells.
“Now you have to stay with us forever, miss Windsong!” Nina giggles.
“You little…rascals…” Windsong manages to breathe out, smiling despite the discomfort. “Wait…till I get you…!”
The researcher summons all her strength and pushes herself up, the children falling off her back and scrambling to their feet quickly.
“Get back here! Y’all pay for that!” She yells and laughs as they run away from her, Windsong managing to go after them despite the skating boots slowing her down.
“Don't be too rough on them!” She hears Vila shouting from behind her and she smiles.
Snow starts to gently drift down from the skies, and Windsong smiles from where she's sitting, enjoying the sight of the children building snowmen and all the families roaming through the park, the lights on trees and lamps turning on as the night started to settle in, bathing the snow in warm and colorful lights, almost like the auroras she had witnessed countless times before.
But this time, she's not alone. This time, for the first time, she has people close to her heart, people that make all her trips and endless research worth it.
People that hold her steadfast in such tumultuous eras, where time was relentless and spared no one, be it human or Arcanist. Where the past and the present ceased to have meaning, to make sense.
She feels something warm on her cheek, and she starts and looks up, Vila holding a cup of something warm against her face.
“Hot chocolate,” she says at her silent question, sitting down beside her as Windsong receives the cup.
“Thanks.” She holds it between her hands, cold despite her gloves.
“...Is something the matter?” Vila asks, the concern clear in her voice. “You seemed to be deep in thought just now.”
Windsong taps the plastic lid, leaning her back against the backrest. “Yeah. I'm just…thinking about all the people in this city, not knowing they could disappear at any moment, that their accomplishments, joys, and sorrows could either be reversed or completely erased. I…I can't help but feel a little bit guilty, you know?” She sighs. “What makes us different from them, who gets to choose who stays and who gets reversed?”
“Windsong…” Vila whispers beside her.
She quickly changes gears. “Sorry, I don't wish to sour the mood. I guess being out there in the world for so long, knowing a Storm could come and change everything…it scares me.” Her eyes briefly flicker to her side as the grip on her cup tightens. “...It scares me that someday, I could lose you all. That someday, I'll be alone again.”
“You won't be.” Vila places a hand over hers, turning slightly sideways to face her better. “No matter what, we will always stay by your side. I…I will always be here for you, waiting for you to return to us.” She softly squeezes her hand, her voice lowering. “I get scared too. I get scared of waking up one day and finding you all gone. But, at the same time, you all are the reason I have the strength to carry on, to face these uncertain times and hopefully find a way to stop the Storms, to return the world to normal. To…return to our eras.”
“To our Rayashki,” Windsong completes for her, and Vila silently nods.
They both remain silent for a minute, shoulders touching, Vila’s thumb absentmindedly brushing the back of her hand.
Windsong places the cup at her side to use her free hand to retrieve something from her pocket, a small object packaged with a red and green gift wrap. She hands it to Vila, who widens her eyes in surprise.
“M-Merry Christmas,” she shyly says, lilac eyes focused anywhere but her. “I know it's something you recently started celebrating only a few years back, but…yeah.”
The Rusalka carefully receives the gift, as if she's holding the most precious treasure in the world. “Windsong…you didn't have to.”
“Of course I had to.” She suddenly gets nervous, wondering if she would even like it. “I-It’s nothing special, really. I can barely afford food, so it's something I ended up doing in my free time, while waiting out storms and blizzards and the like.”
“It's handmade?” Vila starts breaking the gift wrap. “Windsong, that has more value than anything you could buy.”
She blushes. “Don't get your hopes up, it's not that good…”
She finishes opening up the gift, revealing a familiar shaped doll and familiar colors. “Is this…a matryoshka? Wait…is this me?”
Windsong scratches her cheek. “Yeah, I painted it myself. Check the others out.”
Vila carefully removes the first doll, revealing a smaller doll under, painted to look like Avgust. She continues, revealing all her kids in succession.
“So you can always have them with you,” she whispers, unable to look back at her, suddenly feeling way too self-conscious. “So you can always have Rayashki with you.”
Vila does not answer right away, and it slightly worries the researcher. She turns her head around and freezes when she sees Vila starting to cry.
She panics. “A-Ah, Vila, I'm sorry—”
But Vila throws her arms around her and tightly hugs her, rendering her quiet. “...Thank you, Windsong. It's one of the most thoughtful and beautiful gifts that I have ever received in my life.”
Her pulse quickens, her face flushes. She awkwardly pats her on the back, unsure on what to do with her arms. “I-It’s nothing, really. I'm glad you like them.”
Vila pulls away, wiping the tears away from her eyes as she warmly smiles at Windsong, the dolls carefully cradled on her lap. “There's someone missing, however.”
Windsong stills. “Huh? Who…?”
Vila chuckles as she pokes her shoulder. “You, dummy!”
At that, she slightly frowns. “Me? But I—”
The same finger that poked her before now jabs at her. “You're also part of this family, Windsong. You're also part of Rayashki. Don't you ever forget that.”
Windsong’s heart lurches. Hearing that from Vila means the world to her. “Ah…right. Thank you, Vila.”
She feels cold lips on her cheek, and Windsong jumps at the contact, her face heating up.
Vila herself has a faint blush across her cheeks as she softly laughs at her reaction. “Must you always react like that?”
Windsong's blush deepens. “And must you always threaten me with a heart attack?”
The Rusalka shakes her head, her blue eyes shimmering. “That should be my line, miss Windsong.”
The ley line Hunter manages a grin. “I guess we're even, then.”
Vila nods. “Indeed.”
They stare at each other in silence, calmly and gently, with shy smiles and glinting eyes. They both completely forget their cups of steaming hot chocolate, each other's company being enough to keep themselves warm and full.
“Are you two about to kiss?” A familiar voice asks, and both women jump out of their stupors, red faces staring at the children that gather around them. Nina is smiling wide. “You are, aren't you!”
“N-Nina.” Vila, ever the composed and gentle teacher, slightly frowns at her. “You don't ask people that question.”
“But you act just like my parents do!” The girl retorts, and Windsong burrows herself into her coat, wishing to be anywhere but here.
“The stars and the moon are in perfect harmony,” Avgust supplies, smiling and hugging the sunflower he refuses to part with. “Will the moon settle or the stars begin to fall?” He giggles. “Or will they join hands and start to dance under the field of moonlight and sunflowers?”
“Stop talking nonsense, you two,” Pyotr interrupts. “They're both girls. Girls don't kiss each other.”
Nina huffs at that. “How can you be so sure? Are you an expert at kisses now?”
Pyotr wildly blushes at that. “O-Of course not! It's what my parents said!”
“Now, now.” Vila puts away the dolls into her pocket and stands up before the topic derails into uncomfortable territory. “Aren't you guys hungry after all this exercise? How about wrapping things up and heading into town for dinner?”
All of them exclaim in unison at that, returning to their playground to clean after their mess before leaving. The Rusalka sighs as she watches them go, rubbing a hand against her neck as she chuckles. Windsong is intensely staring at a spot on the ground, without looking at her.
Vila clears her throat. “Well, shall we go, comrade?”
Windsong slowly stands up, grabbing the cup of hot chocolate at the same time, still refusing to meet her eyes. “R-Right. Let's go.”
Pyotr’s words hit a little bit too close to home, despite his complete innocence in saying them. What if Vila thinks the same, and she has been reading too much into her affectionate nature?
What if…she's not attracted to girls, like Windsong is? What then? She's supposed to swallow down these overwhelming feelings and pretend not to be hopelessly in love with the Rusalka? How is she supposed to do that?
“...I do have something for you as well, Windsong.”
She looks up, slightly confused at her sudden statement. “Huh?”
Vila pushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, not facing her either. “A gift for you, I mean. I don't have it with me right now, but…how about you go to my room after we get back?”
Her whole body heats up, her heart almost stopping. “Y-Your room?”
“Yes?” Vila looks back, grinning. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, of course not.” Windsong takes a sip from her cup, the warm liquid calming her nerves.
Vila chuckles. “You look so adorable with your face all red.”
Windsong slightly glares at her, making her way to the children. “Shut up.”
The Rusalka laughs and follows behind.
Vila hears soft knocking on her door.
After an eventful and exhausting evening with the kids, the teacher is ready to head to sleep, but she remembers she had asked Windsong to drop by later, and considering their rooms are right next to each other the woman doesn't need to go that far to visit her.
She wonders if their locations are on purpose, or simple practicality considering they had arrived from the same place and already knew each other. Either way, she is glad for it.
She gets up from her neat desk and opens the door, smiling warmly at the nervous woman standing behind it, as if they hadn't seen each other just a few hours ago. She's even still wearing her coat.
“S-Sorry for coming in so late, I got distracted with work,” Windsong offers an excuse, which the Rusalka has no trouble believing.
She lifts an eyebrow. “After spending all day outside you went straight to work? Oh my, you're such a hard worker, comrade.”
Windsong shuffles her feet. “It's just a habit. I still have tons of papers to go through.”
Vila steps aside. “Aren't you coming in?”
The researcher hesitates before stepping in. “R-Right.”
She notices her wandering gaze, sweeping through her belongings and paintings decorating the walls, most of them from the children and a handful that she painted herself with all her sudden free time. Her art supplies are organized in a neat pile on a shelf, her teaching notes and books and papers to be graded resting on her impeccable desk, the suitcase holding her precious accordion right next to it. She notices the dolls she had gifted her were placed on the windowsill.
But her lilac eyes linger on the only empty wall, or rather, on the colorful mural depicting Rayashki and the aurora right above it. Some strokes are professional, others are clumsy and slightly wavering, yet combined it culminates into a beautiful and harmonious painting. At the bottom corner several yellow hands of different sizes are painted over the snow, surrounded by a field of sunflowers.
“I made it with the children.” Vila smiles at the memory, at the kids covered in paint and their laughter filling her otherwise quiet room and life. “Since we're free to decorate our rooms however we like, I decided it would be nice to add a bit of a personal touch to it.” Her smile slightly falters. “...And it works as a sort of memorial as well.”
“It's beautiful.” Windsong marvels at it, gently touching it. She smiles too. “I can easily tell who painted each section by their strokes and brushes, and you worked around them to complement them rather than fix them. A teacher to the core, aren't you?”
Vila giggles at that, standing next to her. “I'm surprised you noticed that. Wouldn't you like to add yourself into it?”
Windsong glances at her. “Me? No, no, I don't want to ruin it.”
“Ruin it?” Vila crosses her arms. “I've seen your sketches, comrade. You're an artist too.”
The researcher snickers at that. “That’s a stretch. I simply learned the basics to sketch critters and monsters. I don't think I'm capable of more than that.”
“I'm sure that's not true,” Vila insists. Her smile widens. “But since that's your specialty, why don't you draw the critters we encountered back then? They were also part of Rayashki. Even if some of them tried to kill us.”
Windsong chuckles at that, and then frowns, glancing at the mural, still uncertain. “...Are you sure, Vila? I…”
She places a hand on her arm, looking directly at her. “I'm sure, Windsong. Like I said today, you're also part of Rayashki. Always will be.”
Windsong stares at her for a few seconds, and Vila shudders. Does she really not realize the effect her lingering gaze has on her?
Her smile returns then, and Vila can breathe again. “Alright, alright. But something not too complicated, okay? I can paint some Kikituks and that's it.”
“That's perfect!” Vila claps her hand enthusiastically, turning around to go gather her art supplies.
“W-Wait, you mean right now?” Windsong's higher tone makes her laugh.
Vila brings back some paints and brushes, handing them to a wide-eyed Windsong. “Well, of course! Gotta seize the day and make the most out of it, comrade.”
The ley line Hunter seems ready to protest, but her complaints vanish as she sighs, grinning. “You're relentless, you know that? I don't think I ever had the option to decline.”
Vila matches her grin. “You're starting to understand, Windsong.”
She rolls her eyes and carefully leaves the supplies on the floor, removing her coat and staring at the mural, probably thinking where to start.
The Rusalka smiles to herself.
Windsong's drawings turn out to be better than expected, and the researcher wipes her forehead as she stares at her artwork, apparently surprising even herself.
“Okay, I admit I wasn't that convinced at first,” she starts, backing up a few steps to properly assess her handiwork. “...But it looks much better than I thought.”
“I told you!” Vila smiles at her. “I knew you had it in you. Trust me, I'm a teacher.”
Windsong smiles down at her, lifting an eyebrow. “Well, the same teacher was nagging me every single step too. I almost thought you would snatch the brush away from me a couple of times.”
Vila slightly pouts. “I was merely guiding you. I know you would've moped around if it didn't turn out that great in the end.”
Windsong frowns. “I do not mope around.”
Vila's smile widens. “Yes, you do.”
“No, I don't.”
“Yes, you do.” Vila steps in closer, her fangs showing. She slightly shudders at the sight, always faltering at the sight of those sharp teeth.
She gulps that feeling down, lifting a finger towards her. “Wait, you seem to have something on your face.”
“Huh? Where?” Vila touches one of her cheeks, slightly frowning.
Windsong takes her chance and lifts the hand holding the brush, leaving a quick yellow stroke over her other cheek, laughing at Vila's momentarily utter shock.
Her blue eyes focus on hers, mouth agape as her smile slowly returns. “Did you just…?”
The researcher shrugs. “Slip of the hand? Do you want me to fix it and do your other cheek too?”
“Oh, you…!” Vila lunges at her to grab said brush to no avail, Windsong's taller stature an asset as she fully extends her arm up, just out of reach for the shorter woman.
She loudly laughs. “What, can't you reach, comrade?” She steps around as Vila tries to jump, teasing her by lowering her arm and then immediately shooting it up. “Should have taken all your milk when you were a kid!”
Vila is laughing too, despite her failed attempts. The sound of her carefree laughter warms her heart, her sparkling eyes brighter than any other sky she has ever witnessed, more enthralling than any oceans she could possibly dive into. Staring at Vila is like staring at the world itself, beautifully complex and mesmerizing.
And she wants to hold that world. She wants to have it in her hands.
Windsong trips backwards, and Vila does not expect the sudden tilt either and falls alongside her, both landing heavily on the floor, the researcher hitting her head and momentarily getting dizzy.
She's breathless, but not only due to Vila’s weight on her. She's close, so close that she can smell her oceanic scent, can see the scales shimmering on her face, can feel her breath over her lips. She has to close her eyes.
Her heart stops.
“W-Windsong! Are you alright?” Vila's concern is endearing, and she slightly shakes her shoulders, thinking she was probably losing consciousness.
Windsong makes the effort to open her eyes, though she looks to the side. “I-I'm fine, I just tripped over my feet. Glad I was there to cushion your fall, huh?”
Vila sighs, her poor attempt at humor at least seeming to convince her. “And here I was worried about you.” She leans back, helping Windsong to sit up, quickly scanning her. She frowns. “Uh oh.”
“What?” Windsong touches the back of her head, thinking she had split her head open and that blood is starting to gush out.
But she feels nothing, only a small bump slowly starting to grow. She turns her head back just in time for Vila to leave a quick stroke on her face as well, and she slightly yelps in surprise.
“O-Oi!”
Vila only grins. “Payback, comrade. Now we're even.”
Windsong can't help but laugh, not even realizing the Rusalka had stolen the brush. “Damn, Vila, you can be really petty when you want to.”
That earns another stroke, this time at the tip of her nose. “You started it.”
Windsong lets out a breathless laugh, lifting both her arms. “Alright, alright, I surrender. Please, have mercy, miss Vila.”
Vila taps her chin with the brush’s handle, slightly narrowing her eyes. “Hmm, I don't know. I'm not convinced. There's still something missing.”
At that, the researcher knits her brow. “Huh? Missing what?”
The teacher smiles. “Close your eyes.”
“Hell no, you're going to—”
“Do you trust me?” She asks instead, and it renders her silent immediately. It's a bit hard to do so when she's still holding the brush dangerously close to her face. Windsong is quiet for a few seconds, eyeing her suspiciously before sighing, slowly doing as told.
God, she's so weak for Vila. She could ask her to go retrieve a single rock from the peak of Mount Everest and Windsong wouldn't even hesitate to do so. She only hopes she's not actually considering painting her whole face. That would be a pain to clean and embarrassing to explain if somebody else happens to see her.
She hears Vila giggling before standing up and walking away, and Windsong braces herself.
“Don't peek!” She warns, and she stiffens, one of her eyes twitching to spy, and she softly grumbles, crossing her arms. What is she doing? She seems to be retrieving something from her wardrobe, and quickly finds her way back. Soon enough she carefully wraps something around Windsong's neck, and she's struggling to keep her eyes closed, curious and nervous by having Vila so close, by her gentle hands fixing her hair over what she assumes is a scarf, and a very warm and soft one at that.
“Alright, you can open them now.” She announces, and Windsong slowly opens her eyes, instantly looking down to the yellow scarf around her neck, and feeling the soft and thick yarn with her fingers, marveling at its quality and care.
“This is…?” Windsong does not want to state the obvious, and Vila giggles.
“Yes, it's a scarf. I made it.” She suddenly looks away, as if shy. “I…I wasn't sure if it was a good gift. I wasn't planning to give it to you at first.”
“What?” The last sentence takes her out of her stupor, placing a hand on her arm. “No, no, it's amazing, Vila! I love it. I…” She blushes, looking down at the scarf again and caressing it. “... I'm just not used to receiving gifts. And…well, you actually made it, so it's even more amazing.”
She hears Vila chuckling. “I feel like you're always praising what I consider basic skills to have. It's cute, honestly.”
That makes Windsong blush even harder, though she looks up in slight shock. “Basic? Vila, you can basically run an entire village and school alone, and do any type of work and jobs without breaking a sweat. You…you're incredible.”
And she deeply admires her for that, and for her unshakable resolve and optimism. Honestly, is there something the Rusalka isn’t able to do? Whenever she looks at her, she feels invincible, like anything is possible.
Like staring at the sun itself.
“Windsong…” From the corner of her eye she can see her slightly blushing as well, rubbing her arm as both become increasingly tense. “Don't put me on a pedestal, I'm not that amazing. If anything, I feel that you are the amazing one here, with that brilliant and clever mind of yours, not to mention your incredible Arcane skills. You…”
“...We cover each other's weaknesses,” she completes for her, slightly smiling.
Vila looks back at her, smiling as well, her blush brightening up. “I think ‘complement’ each other it's more fitting.”
Her smile softens. “...I like that.”
Vila leans in and grabs both ends of her scarf, carefully placing them over her shoulders. When did she get so close? “And this scarf suits you as well. It matches the marks on your face.”
Windsong scoffs. “Haha.”
Vila does not let go of her scarf yet, and her heart pounds loudly in her head. Is it because of the bump, or because the Rusalka is quite close, looking at her with a strange expression on her clear blue eyes?
She could not tear her eyes away, only being able to focus on the beautiful woman in front of her, and how badly she wanted to lean in and close the distance between them.
“Vila…” As if her name alone could encompass all that she feels, all her lingering gazes and accidental touches, and the not so accidental ones. All her longing while she was out on expeditions, all her yearning when she has her so close yet she's unable to reach out, unable to take that decisive step further that could change their fates forever.
One hand rests on her cheek, gently pulling her in and she slowly closes her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the current for once.
She feels Vila’s breath on her lips, and she slightly parts them.
She's ready.
But then soft knocking is heard, and both women freeze on their spots.
“Vila?” A soft and gentle voice is heard. Avgust. “I can't sleep...”
The Rusalka leans back, her hand lingering on her face as they stare at each other, silent desire burning brightly on both their eyes, and Windsong gulps.
She can't even speak, and she's starting to feel dizzy, like she could faint at any second. Perhaps the blow to her head had been worse than she initially thought, or her mind just simply couldn't keep up with the overflowing feelings of her erratic heart.
Vila sighs and softly chuckles after, retrieving her hand and begrudgingly stands up, leaving a confused and lightheaded Windsong sitting on the floor, staring where the blonde woman used to be.
Vila opens the door slowly, Avgust outside yawning and rubbing one of his eyes, which immediately lights up at the sight of his favorite teacher.
“Vila!” He tackles her into a hug, and she slightly grunts and smiles after, ruffling his hair. She could never get tired of his affection.
“Comrade Avgust.” She places both hands on his small shoulders. “What troubles you? Why are you unable to fall asleep?”
“Can I sleep with you?” He asks instead, and her heart melts.
“Of course you can. Come on in.” Her smile slightly widens as she steps aside. “Comrade Windsong is here as well. Perhaps she can read you to sleep instead?”
“Windsong?!” He immediately perks up and hurries inside before she can stop him, smiling bright as he runs over to the dazed researcher and throws himself at her, tumbling her to the floor again.
Vila winces. She hopes she hasn't hit the same spot as before.
Windsong groans under the sudden attack, though she is relieved to see her quickly shifting into amusement as she takes advantage of her position and starts tickling Avgust.
“Alright, alright, children.” She claps twice and steps in when Avgust starts to tickle her nose with the ends of her scarf. “No rough housing at this hour. It's time to sleep, isn't it?”
Both stop their friendly fighting, and Avgust adorably pouts at her, and if it wasn't for Vila's years of teaching and immunity to children's charms she would've caved in for that expression.
“But Vilaaaa.” Avgust stands up and the Rusalka straightens down his crumpled sweater instinctively. “I don't get to play with Windsong for long. She's always working or talking with you.”
Windsong stands up as well, amused. “Well, little comrade, Vila is the boss around here, so make sure to listen to her, alright?”
Avgust sighs, a bit disappointed. “Okaay.”
Vila lifts an eyebrow, smiling. “The boss? I wouldn’t say that.”
The small boy places a finger over his chin. “Well, since my Mama is sleeping in the mines with my Papa, does that mean Vila is my new Mama?” He beams at the startled Rusalka. “Yes, I love that! Mama Vila!”
She hears Windsong snickering, and she slightly glares at her, the researcher averting her eyes yet still trying to control her laughter. Vila sighs, a faint blush on her cheeks. “Avgust, I…”
But before she could even reply, not denying it since she actually feels honored that the child sees her like a mother figure, he speaks again, signaling with the same finger towards the taller woman. “And Windsong is my other mama! Mama Windsong!”
“W-What the—” She widens her eyes and starts choking, and it is Vila's turn to chuckle and smile in triumph at her reaction as she crosses her arms.
The researcher manages to calm down fast, her eyes widening at the kid. “What the hell–”
“ Ehem,” Vila clears her throat in warning.
Windsong immediately backtracks. “What the heck, Avgust? M-Me? Do I seem like a mother figure to you?”
He tilts his head adorably, as if confused by his question. “Yes? You take care of me and play with me. And your soul is warm and bright, just like Vila’s!”
She frowns. “My soul…?”
“Right, Vila?” He leans against a dumbfounded Windsong, smiling widely. “Windsong is family!”
Vila’s eyes soften, and she looks back at the researcher and warmly smiles at her. “Indeed, Avgust.”
Windsong looks down and blushes, and the sight makes her heart soar. She chuckles and steps closer to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. She figures she had enough of poking fun at the poor embarrassed woman. For now. “Alright, comrade, how about you tell us some of your stories instead?”
“With a pillow fort and blankets?” He’s practically bouncing with excitement.
Vila grins, making a thumbs up. “Of course, comrade!”
The next time Vila wakes up, it’s the middle of the night and her arm is slightly sore from having used it as a pillow, but that uncomfortable pain soon takes a back seat as she looks at the two sleeping figures lying next to her in her bed.
Windsong is sound asleep and Avgust had fallen asleep on her extended arm loosely holding into his sketchbook, Vila evidently being the one to pass out first as she doesn't even remember him bringing that to their makeshift forte. She’s the only one covered with the blanket and she sighs in amusement as she covers them both, scooting closer to them.
She brushes Avgust’s face, the love that she has for this kid not unlike a mother. Perhaps he hadn’t been that far off with his conclusion. Then her blue eyes linger on Windsong, on the hair covering half her face and the fact she removed her jacket but not the scarf. She has a couple of pen marks on her cheeks and over her uncovered eye, deducing she was the second one to fall asleep and Avgust took advantage of that. She snickers at that.
She slowly reaches out and softly pushes the hair away from her face, gently tracing down her fingers down her cheek, and lingering there. She sighs and pulls back her hand, only to adjust her position to entwine their hands together, barely kissing the back of Windsong’s hand.
She chuckles. Aren’t they quite the family.
Windsong gulps nervously, glancing through the door at the people waiting for her lecture to start. Her arm trembles—she barely managed to sleep and eat the day before, too anxious and busy getting her documents and presentation together.
Why does speaking in front of people still make her so unbelievably nervous? She should be used to them by now, having her research about Ley Lines slowly taking flight and her other quite important side job, which is predicting the arrivals of the Storms. Public speaking and countless meetings with scientists and other researchers is becoming the norm for her.
Still, some things never change, she supposes. Socializing and dealing with other people had never been one of her greatest strengths.
“Nervous?” A soft voice reaches her from behind, and Windsong startles, whipping around so fast she almost hits Vila with her clipboard.
“V-Vila?” Her throat dries up, and she freezes in place at the woman wearing a sleeveless and long black dress, her blonde hair loose and straight, her scales shimmering in the dimmed corridor.
Vila tilts her head in amusement. “What, do I have something in my face again?”
Windsong can’t help but stare like a complete idiot in love, and she quickly averts her eyes, drilling holes into her papers instead. “N-No, I was just…uh…surprised.”
“Surprised?” She can practically see her eyebrow lifting. “What’s so surprising about wearing a formal dress for a formal ball? Did you forget already?”
Ah, right, the ball from Laplace. She honestly did, being too focused on her lecture and not even bothering to wear something decent for it, thinking that once that was over she would go straight home and sleep for the next two days.
But of course, quite a handful of Arcanists attended, Vila included.
“N-No, I didn’t.” She keeps her eyes down, unable to face her. “I was just too focused on my lecture.”
Vila chuckles. “Which is the same as saying that you forgot. It’s even in the same building!”
She blushes. “I know! But—” She sighs, lowering the clipboard, her nerves fried and not only because of her upcoming lecture. “I’m not even going, anyway. Those types of things are not for me.”
“Aww, come on, comrade.” Vila steps closer, and she grabs her tie to fix it, tucking in her shirt as well. “It will be fun! Don’t you want to get to know your fellow researchers and Arcanists better? Have unlimited free food and drinks?”
Despite her heart almost jumping off her throat at her proximity and gentle hands patting down her arms she manages a small smile. “Hmm, unlimited free food and drinks does sound tempting.”
“Right?” Vila giggles, and the sound makes her lightheaded, relaxing her tense muscles. For some reason she leaves a hand on her arm, playing with the sleeve of her jacket. “Besides.” She looks up at her, smiling as a faint blush spreads across her cheeks. “I’m going to need a partner for it. And the only one fitting for me is you, comrade.”
Her heart starts thumping loudly. “M-Me? But…I’m not even dressed for it, not to mention that I can’t dance for the life of me—”
Vila puts her index finger on her lips, and she immediately quiets down. “Like I said, perfect for me.”
Windsong softly whimpers, unable to refute her when she’s looking at her so intensely, and when she deliberately brushes her finger down her lower lip, until it rests beneath her chin.
“So, meet you up at the lobby after?” She asks, her smile sharp.
Windsong is utterly helpless. “R-Right.”
Vila leaves a chaste kiss on her cheek and she pulls away, probably giggling at her dumbfounded face. She squeezes her shoulder. “Go get them, Windsong. I’ll be at the back cheering you on.”
That makes her come back to her senses before she melts away. “Wait, you’re coming to my lecture?”
“Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” Her expression softens. “Besides, once you get past your initial awkwardness and nervousness, you truly shine up there. Your love and passion for the ley lines is admirable and respectable in equal measure.”
Windsong takes a deep breath, moved by her encouragement. She exhales, feeling her muscles loosening up as she can properly look at Vila again. “...Thank you, Vila.”
That's all she needs. As long as Vila is with her, she can do anything.
Vila squeezes her shoulder again and steps back, making her way to the other door, and her gaze lingers on her as she walks away, at each sway of her hips and her long hair flowing along her movements.
She clears her throat, slightly loosening her tie as sinful thoughts crawl up her body. No, no, she needs to focus on her lecture, and not think about how it would feel to lay her hands on her waist and pull her closer, to have her lips teasing her neck, to feel those glistening fangs sink into her skin.
“Goddammit, get a grip, Windsong,” she mumbles through gritted teeth. She slackens her jaw and forces herself to stop thinking about the Rusalka for even one second.
It's impossible, however, like a fly that she can't slap away. She can ignore it, sure, but it's constantly buzzing in the background and only gets louder whenever she lets her mind wander.
Windsong slaps her cheek and gets ready for her lecture.
Vila widely smiles as she pats Windsong’s shoulder, the jacket and vest she had prepared for her fitting her perfectly, as well as the long black pants and matching black shoes.
Windsong is stiff, clearly not used to this type of formal clothing, and she does her best to avoid looking directly into Vila's eyes as she adjusts her green tie and runs her hands down her messy hair.
“There!” She announces, humming in approval with a hand on her chin. She is quite aware of how handsome Windsong is, but it becomes even more prominent when she's not wearing baggy and unkempt clothes. She has to force herself to remain grounded lest she pounces on the taller woman like a wild and uncontrollable beast.
The researcher grumbles. “...Do I really have to go, Vila?”
The Rusalka slightly pouts. “Am I really such bad company, comrade?”
That makes Windsong look at her in panic, and she inwardly grins. “N-No! It's not you that bothers me, it's just that…” She sighs. “... I've never been to a formal ball before. What am I supposed to do?”
Vila slightly widens her eyes before shortly laughing, covering her mouth with her hand.
“H-Hey, I'm being serious!” Windsong frowns and it makes her look adorable.
Vila quickly calms down. “I know, I know, sorry.” She lowers her hand from her mouth, trying to hide the smile spreading across her lips. “You're taking this way too seriously, Windsong. It's just a party! You don't need to do anything. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine.”
Windsong sighs in defeat. “...If you say so.”
“So.” Vila extends her half-gloved hand. “Shall we go, partner?”
Windsong slightly blushes but obediently takes her hand with hers, causing Vila to slightly shiver. She loves how their hands fit perfectly together, as if meant to be interlocking.
But that is probably just Vila’s lovesick heart being at play, just as how she can't stop touching her or hovering nearby the taller woman whenever possible, as if without her she would asphyxiate. Sometimes it hurts how badly she yearns for her, and her boundless patience starts to run out the more close calls they share, and the more obvious Windsong’s feelings are for her. She could simply pull her by the tie and seal their lips once and for all, sink her teeth into that entacing neck of hers and run her hands all over her silver hair.
She couldn't deny that she is tempted to do so. They are currently alone in the changing room, and nobody would hear nor see them. Vila could finally listen to her loud heart and start what they both clearly want, to finally start loving each other properly.
Vila swallows. Hard. She needs to keep herself together, which is difficult to do when the woman in front of her is so unfairly attractive and dashing, yet bashful and endearingly insecure.
She guides her back to the ballroom, though it is generous to call it that since it's only an empty and wide experiment room that got modified and cleaned for the occasion. Some intricate and twisting tubes and pipes could still be seen up in the ceiling and part of the walls if you squint hard enough.
Vila is still holding her hand as they stroll in, turning several heads in their direction and causing mildly loud murmuring around them.
“Uh…” Windsong seems ready to take off, squirming underneath so many eyes. She leans closer to her. “Why are they looking at us like that…?”
The Rusalka politely smiles as she whispers back. “Well, I think people are mostly looking at you , comrade. You're the popular one in Laplace.”
“Popular?” Windsong scuffs as they walk towards a buffet table. “I highly doubt that, Vila. I think they were mostly looking at you .”
She turns around and leans into the table, smiling up at her partner. “And why's that?”
Windsong's cheeks immediately light up as she looks away, busying herself with staring at the food. “W-Well, some people might be curious about you being a Rusalka and whatnot. Doesn't mean it's not rude to stare, though.”
“Hmm?” Vila crosses her arms, deeply enjoying teasing her like this. “But comrade, you also stare at me quite a lot, don't you? You know, if you want to touch my scales or my teeth I'm fine with that—”
“I-It's not like that!” The researcher lowers her voice as she notices a few people looking at them. She clears her throat, tapping an offbeat rhythm on the table. “I mean, I am curious, but—No, I mean, I do not stare!”
Vila snorts. “Are you sure? You were doing it a lot back at the lecture hall.” Her expression shifts, a hand going to her chin. “Hmm, perhaps this dress does not suit me after all..?”
“Huh? No!” Windsong looks at her with newfound conviction, as if offended by her words. “It suits you perfectly, Vila. You're beautiful.”
Her heart stammers at her confident words, and her face slightly warms up as her lips part in slight shock. Windsong seems to realize what she just blurted out and averts her gaze, picking up some shrimps and shoving them into her mouth, as if to avoid saying anything more compromising.
A thick silence hangs between them for a moment, before Vila regains her composure and laughs, certain that even her ears are tainted crimson. “Why, thank you, Windsong, you're really kind. I must say too then, you look quite handsome and dashing with that suit.”
Windsong swallows with difficulty, and takes a few seconds to answer. “... Thank you.”
“I meant it, though,” Vila starts, turning fully around to face the table as well. “About my scales, I mean. You have never outright asked like other people, but I can tell you're curious about them. Or me being a Rusalka in general.” She glances at her, smirking. “Being curious is a researcher’s most driving quality, isn't it?”
Windsong manages a small smile, her lilac eyes lost on the plates. “...Well, when you put it like that, I won't deny it. But…I guess I didn't want to offend you with so many questions, because I know that once I start I don't stop, just like when I study critters in the wild.”
Vila softly sighs. Is she really bothered by something that hadn't even crossed her mind to begin with? She softly places a hand on her arm. “Windsong, your worry is adorable. But I have, quite literally and metaphorically, thicker skin than most. Besides.” Her teasing smile softens. “I know that questions coming from you are born purely out of a scientific curiosity. I know you mean no harm.”
Windsong slowly looks back at her, and it feels like electricity coursing through her veins when she smiles carefreely like that. “Well…if you're okay with that, next time we hang out I’ll ask a thousand questions, first warning.”
Vila matches her grin. “Don't worry, I'm a teacher. I'm used to that.”
Windsong turns to face her, leaning her leg against the table, and god how is she this hot so effortlessly. “Well, teach, I was known for being a nagging and unorthodox student. Sure you can handle that?”
“Oh, please.” Vila rolls her eyes. “I have dealt with Avgust for years now. There's nothing that fazes me now.”
Windsong grins. “We’ll see about that.”
They both stare at each other, smiling and almost daring themselves to step closer, to come up with more comebacks until there is no distance between them, until they exhaust all possible arguments and the only way to resolve their impasse is by clashing against one another.
More preferably by pressing their lips together. But that is only Vila's fantasy.
Although, judging by the way Windsong seems lost in her eyes too, perhaps the same thoughts were crossing her mind. How else would the tension between them be explained?
“Ugh, for the love of god, get a room,” an exhausted and annoyed voice pierces their little bubble, and Vila turns to the owner of said voice, almost irritably, as if completely forgetting they are standing in the middle of a public event.
“Pardon them, they didn't want to attend this party either,” a more placid and gentle voice speaks, its owner a short boy wearing a labcoat over his suit. Though the most striking feature is the black and golden eye curiously regarding them both. It ultimately lands on Windsong. “Miss Windsong, it's an honor to finally meet you, I'm X. The grumpy person next to me is Medicine Pocket, pardon their rudeness.” He slightly bows and redirects his mismatched eyes to Vila. “Ah, and you must be Miss Vila, a pleasure to meet you as well. I've heard a lot about you from Miss Windsong’s lectures about ley lines and Rayashki.”
Vila glances at her partner, who looks away clearing her throat. “Hm, did she, now? Good things, I hope.” She smiles at the boy then, a hand pressing against her chest. “It's a pleasure to meet you both as well. Are you researchers from Laplace too?”
“That we are.” X nods, and Medicine Pocket next to him only half-heartedly grunts, clearly not interested in this exchange. “Although we're fairly new still.”
Windsong perks up. “Ah! I remember now. You two are becoming quite the gossip on the European branches. Young and talented, yet also unpredictable. And also a lot of explosions involved.”
“That’s mostly this idiot’s fault.” Medicine Pocket points to X with the back of their thumb, still looking away. “His and his stupid Goldberg machines.”
“Hey!” He looks back at his partner, though his enigmatic smile stays in place. “It’s not my fault you fail to appreciate true science.”
Medicine Pocket groans. “If you can even call that ‘science’ to begin with. Even ley lines are more scientifically accurate than your toys.”
“Toys? Why must you be so rude all the time?”
Both women glance at each other, slightly amused. Vila raises a hand. “Now, now, let’s not get into an argument. You both seem to be aware of ley lines and miss Windsong here, the ley lines expert herself. Why don’t you take this chance to ask her questions?”
X looks back at her, still smiling. “Ah, that’s right! That was my initial intention, in fact. Well, before my rude friend here distracted me.”
“Ugh, whatever.” Despite their apparent disinterest, they remain in place, probably curious about ley lines as well.
“Uh…I mean, yes! I can answer any question that you two have, no problem.” Windsong straightens up, almost towering over the two younger researchers. It’s honestly amazing how she can shift so effortlessly into professional mode, her smile sharp and confident.
No wonder people are even more attracted to the research of ley lines when someone as charismatic and passionate as Windsong is the one preaching it. Even Vila, before her own feelings for the researcher manifested, had been ensnared and enthralled by the concept of ley lines and their possible uses, and had even witnessed it for herself back in Rayashki and some field missions.
Although, looking back into their first encounter, perhaps Vila had been smitten by her since the start. There is something about Windsong that naturally pulls you to her, that makes you root for her and support her, just like how Rayashki had quickly accepted her, and how she had inspired their late comrade Evgeni to fight back for their beloved town.
Yes, even if Windsong is unaware of it or simply doesn’t believe it, she’s special. A force to be reckoned, even, when her mind and heart are fully into something. And she’s still young and just getting back on her feet, so Vila can’t help but feel excited about her future, at what she can possibly accomplish once her research gets properly acknowledged and the stain left behind by a single and twisted man gets wiped away and replaced by Windsong’s name instead.
Yes, she was certain that the study of ley lines would flourish again under her guidance. She wholeheartedly believes in her. Always will.
Windsong exhales a sigh of relief when the two researchers finally leave after almost an hour of nonstop discussions and arguments, Vila occasionally having to step in whenever Medicine Pocket and Windsong seem ready to throw hands every now and then. The researcher takes a huge swing of champagne after making sure the two teenagers are not coming back for more.
“They were something else, weren’t they? “ Vila chuckles, taking a bite of cheese. She softly pats Windsong’s shoulder.
Windsong sighs again. “Teenagers. I really hope Avgust and the others don’t end up like those two.”
Vila loudly snorts, covering her mouth after. “Aren’t you being kind of mean, comrade? Did you forget you were a teenager once too?”
The woman takes another sip. “Ugh, don’t remind me of that.”
Vila smiles. “I wish I had seen that. Must have been interesting.”
Windsong pales. “No, no, it wasn’t, trust me.”
Vila takes a glass of champagne as well, smiling through the rim. “Were you the nerd of the class? I can totally see that.”
Windsong slightly glares at her. “I–” She stops herself, seemingly unable to deny it as she rummages through her memories. She sighs again. “...Okay, maybe a little bit.” She smiles then. “I was also one of the shortest girls in class too. Then suddenly…”
Vila makes a growing motion with her free hand. “You were one of the tallest ones, right? It must have gotten over your head, I’m sure.”
“Hey.” Windsong playfully punches her arm. “Who’s the one always asking me to get her stuff from the top shelves? You’re going to lose that privilege.”
Vila pretends to gasp, hurt. “You wouldn’t dare, comrade. I would stop cooking for you if that happens.”
At that, the researcher frowns, almost pouting. “Now, now, that’s not fair. The Foundation’s food is awful.”
The Rusalka places the glass on the table next to them to cross her arms, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. “Well, you can always go back to your gourmet instant noodles, no?”
“But, Vila…!” She’s almost whining now, and Vila burst out laughing, in disbelief at how easy it is to disarm this woman with a simple tease.
“Well.” Her teasing smile widens, and she offers a hand to the defeated Windsong. “Would you make it up to me with a dance then, comrade?”
Windsong visibly tenses, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. “But…I can’t dance.”
“Can’t, or never tried?”
“Tried, and, well…Let’s say I never danced again.” Her blush deepens, and all Vila wants to do is to pepper her with kisses.
Instead she chuckles, leaning in and grabbing one of Windsong’s hands, which causes her to slightly yelp in surprise. “But you didn’t have me as a dance partner before, right?”
Windsong parts her lips but no words tumble off them for a second as she stares at Vila like she’s about to drown. “U-Uh, I guess…”
The Rusalka squeezes her hand. “I’ll take that as confirmation, then. Don’t worry, comrade, I’ll guide you every step of the way.”
Windsong sighs before softly smiling. “You’re relentless, you know that?”
“I know,” Vila happily accepts, giving her a toothy smile as she starts dragging her to the dance floor. “But you don’t seem to dislike it, right?”
The researchers huffs. “Do I have a choice?”
Vila softly pinches her arm, which causes Windsong to softly laugh.
Oh, how she loves this woman.
This had been a mistake.
Well, not really, considering how patient and gentle Vila is as she guides her, as she grabs her hand and places it around her waist, and she clasps the other and lifts it in the air as they gently sway around amidst the other dance couples.
No, the mistake is having her so close, practically glued to her body. She only hopes she cannot hear or feel her thumping heart, which seems hard considering her enhanced senses. But she doubts that’s needed considering how loudly it is ringing in her ears.
Vila softly runs her hand down her back. “Relax, Windsong. Breathe.”
Her touch alone makes it hard to, but she tries. She exhales, letting out a short and nervous laugh. “You seem totally at ease, comrade.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Vila chuckles and smiles at her, and from this distance she can clearly see her fangs. “I’m dancing with one of my favorite comrades in the world.”
All the air gets caught in her throat at that, and she needs to remind herself to breathe again lest she passes out in her arms. “H-Huh, right…”
Vila seems to press even more against her body. “Why, Windsong? Does it make you nervous?”
“O-Of course not,” she immediately lies, pretending that her whole body is not on fire right now, that it does not become harder to breathe whenever she happens to glance at those mischievous blue eyes. “I’m just not used to, well, physical contact in general.”
“I can tell.” Vila laughs, masterfully avoiding one of Windsong’s feet yet again. Her gaze softens, and all Windsong wants to do is melt in her arms. “I know I can be a bit…overbearing with it sometimes, so if it bothers you just tell me and I will stop, alright?”
Windsong stares for a moment, almost confused at her words. “Oh, no, no, Vila, I don’t mind if it’s from you, since…well, uh.” She gulps, her cheeks reddening up. Her and her stupid brain in love, making her have no filters at all. “...You’re also one of my favorite comrades in the world. After Avgust, of course.”
Vila wholeheartedly laughs at that. “Well said, I can’t blame you for that.”
Windsong inwardly sighs. If only she knew how much she loves her.
She could just say it now, couldn’t she? It is the perfect romantic setting, slowly dancing and holding each other close. She could whisper it against her ear so no one else could hear it, a secret meant to be shared between them only. When else she would get a chance like this otherwise? She could get dragged into another expedition from the Foundation, or her own research could need her at the other side of the world the next morning.
Or she could go into an expedition and never return. Or Vila herself could one day never return from field missions. Why is she wasting so much time in her hesitation? She should seize the moment now, before regret and doubt settles back in, before the Storm takes what little they have left.
The song playing in the background slows down, and Vila leans her head against her shoulder, still dancing but slowing their tempo as well. It further encourages Windsong.
This is it. If she wants to hold the world in her hands, she has to reach out for it herself. No one else would do it for her.
She suddenly feels calm, even when her heart is racing and she’s certain her palms are sweaty. Sweet Vila does not say anything about it. She clears her throat. “Uhm, Vila…there’s something I would like to tell you.”
She holds her breath, and she swears Vila does it as well. “...Yes?”
“Uhm…” Dammit, her sudden bravado wanes as the moment catches up to her, as she realizes she’s about to jump into the abyss. She should have prepared something like a speech beforehand, and rehearsed it until she could convey her feelings perfectly. She’s certain that the arm that Vila is holding starts trembling. “I, well…I’m really glad that I met you, and that I have you in my life in these tumultuous times. You…you’ve been a great source of strength for me, as well as motivation to find a way to stop these Storms.” She pauses, gathering her thoughts. “You…heh, you’re amazing, Vila, and one of the strongest people I know.”
Windsong takes a deep breath. “Which is why I…I…” she trails off, a lump forming in her throat. She’s so close! Why does her brain stop working at such a crucial moment? Just three more words. It shouldn’t be this hard.
Vila slightly pulls away, placing one of her hands on her cheek and softly pressing on it, just so she could stare directly into her frantic eyes. Her smile is bewitching, just like the entirety of the Rusalka. “You…?”
And just like always, Vila patiently waits for her, pushes her past her comfort zone. Windsong is momentarily stunned, as if just realizing just how gorgeous the woman in front of her is, and how much control she exerts over her erratic heart and scrambled mind. “...You’re breathtaking.”
Vila giggles, her whole face flushed as she slips her arms around Windsong’s neck, pulling her close. “...That’s close enough, I’ll take it.”
“H-Huh?” Windsong widens her eyes, as if she had just shaken off a spell. Vila is alarmingly close to her face now, and she panics. Of course she does.
But she remains in place as Vila leans in closer, as they both close their eyes in anticipation.
But before their lips can meet, a huge explosion breaks out nearby, sending them both flying away.
Windsong hazily blinks several times as she tries to sit up, being thrown into one of the tables, some drinks and food spilling down her clothes. She tries to call for Vila, but the last thing she sees before everything goes to black is a blonde woman speeding on a broom yelling at her to get out of the way.
Windsong pours vodka into their glasses as she laughs in disbelief, leaning into her chair after. There’s a bandage going around her head, and a few healed scratches dotting her face. “Wait, did that all really happen?”
Vila giggles as well, covered in a blanket and hugging her knees. “I swear. X was trying modifications on comrade Lilya’s flying broom and, well, it ended up a mess. She directly hit you and you lost consciousness for a few hours.”
Windsong laughs again, which causes her to slightly wince in pain. She needs to beat up Lilya after. “Was anyone else hurt?”
Vila regards her with concern before sighing. “Just minor injuries, thankfully. Not the best way to close a ball, unfortunately.”
Windsong takes her glass, drinking it all in one go. She places it back on the small table between their seats. “I’m gonna have a talk with that girl. Preferably with my fists.”
“Oh, do not worry. She got an earful from me already.” Vila drinks all her glass in one swing as well.
Windsong can’t help but shudder. Being in direct fire of the Rusalka’s anger must not have been a pleasant sight. She almost feels bad for Lilya. Almost.
She chuckles. “Hopefully you didn’t scar her for life.”
“Who knows?” Vila smiles at her, and they both chuckle as they settle back into their beach seats in silence, glancing at the sea and its waves lapping against the shore in the makeshift beach of the Wilderness. It is already past midnight, and they both had changed into their normal clothes by now, and decided to at least party on their own so as to not finish the night on a sour note.
And, of course, there’s the charged silence between them, that both refuse to prod at. Vila most likely because she wants her to rest after being quite literally run over by a flying broom, and Windsong because she's Windsong.
She can't stop thinking about it. They were about to kiss. Whatever she had said with her adrenaline-fueled mind during their dance has definitely changed the tension between them. It's not uncomfortable per se, since they can continue talking like they always do, but it is there, like a shadow looming around them. Windsong wants to chase it away, to finally clear the air and dispel any lingering doubts about the nature of their relationship, but also the researcher has a headache and is deeply enjoying this calm and quiet moment with Vila, the love of her life.
Gosh, barely any alcohol in her system and she's already getting this cheesy.
Speaking of cheese, Windsong shifts to retrieve something from her pocket, smiling as she hands it to a curious Vila. It's a small circular-shaped object wrapped securely in paper.
“Is this…?” It takes her a few seconds to realize what it is, her blue eyes widening as she holds the cheese like it's the greatest treasure in the world.
“Yup.” Windsong’s smile softens. “I still have some more saved in my room. I…I couldn't bear to eat them all. It's one of the last things I have from Rayashki.”
Vila's grip on the cheese tightens. “This…thank you, Windsong.”
Her heart flutters, though the alcohol keeps her settled. “Anytime, Vila.”
She sees her carefully peel away the wrapper and reveal the still-fresh cheese inside, to later cut it in half with her hand and give the other piece to Windsong.
She lifts an eyebrow as she accepts it, a bit confused. “Are you sure?”
Vila smiles, albeit it doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I'm not going to eat by myself, that's rude. Besides.” She looks back at her, a shy yet somewhat amused smile on her lips. “I have my favorite comrade to remind me of Rayashki. With you and the kids around, we all carry part of it within ourselves.”
She blushes at the favorite comrade part, but can't help but smile at her genuine words. “Well said, comrade.”
She uses her other hand to pour more vodka into their glasses, and once she's finished she uses her free hand to lift hers. “For Rayashki.”
Vila imitates her gesture, clinking their glasses together. “For Rayashki.”
It's a solemn and respectful toast, both grieving the loss of their beloved town in their own way. Windsong savors each minute of the cheese inside her mouth, making sure to enjoy it out of respect for the citizens that had made it and later given it to her before she departed.
If she had known that would be the last time she would see the town and its people.
They spend a few more minutes in silence, quietly enjoying their drinks and each other's presence. It's when they're about to finish their first bottle that Windsong speaks again.
“Hmm, can Rusalki get drunk?”
The question takes Vila by surprise, judging by her confused expression. That lovely smile of hers quickly returns to her face. “Well, do you want to find out?”
Windsong grins. “Is that a challenge, Miss Vila? I’ll have you know I can hold my liquor quite well.”
“Do you, now?” Vila mocks, both hands on her cheeks. “I don't believe it.”
Windsong leans and grabs another bottle from under the table, where a few more are waiting to be consumed. “Well, we have all night to prove it, right? Take this as my first investigation about Rusalki.”
The Rusalka laughs as she unfolds her knees back into the sand and leans against the table. “Yes, since a Rusalki’s tolerance to alcohol it's such an important research topic.”
“Of course it is.” Windsong pours more alcohol into their glasses. “How else would we know how many bottles to bring? We cannot let a single one go to waste.”
Vila rolls her eyes as she grabs her glass. “Don't say I didn't warn you, comrade.”
They both clink their glasses to signal the start of the competition.
Vila manages to open the door with some difficulty, Windsong practically leaning all her body against hers as they stumble into her room, which was covered in papers and books and myriad of maps lining the walls and floor alike.
She couldn't focus on her surroundings that much, however, the mumbling figure over her shoulders in need of urgent sleep and rest, her eyes barely open as the Rusalka dragged her to her bed.
“Almost there, comrade,” she reassures her.
“W-Wait, Vila,” Windsong manages to let out, and she stops on her tracks, which ends up being a mistake as she loses balance and they both fall into her desk, sprawling down some books and tools in the process. She hopes they haven't broken anything, or the researcher would be very upset once sober.
But all thoughts halt as she realizes how close Windsong is, how both of her arms are placed between her head as she tries to stop her fall, her warm breath brushing her lips.
She's looking directly at her, eyes hazy yet determined, and Vila should push her away, should make her go to sleep before her drunken mind takes over, yet she finds herself frozen in place, unable to tear her eyes apart, knowing how deeply she craves this, how deeply she wants Windsong for herself.
“Vila,” Windsong starts, voice deep and slightly husky, and it makes her throat dry, her heart stop. She leans in, nose brushing her neck which causes her to slightly yelp in surprise, for her whole body to tense and heat up. “You smell so good…”
“W-Windsong.” Vila puts a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her away. “You should go to sleep, you're spouting nonsense now.”
The researcher further pushes her into a sitting position, their noses practically touching. “It's not nonsense, Vila. Fuck , I can't stop thinking about you. You're driving me nuts. I…I've been such an idiot, trying to deny my feelings and push you away. I-I'm sorry, I'm a mess.”
Vila's lower lip starts to tremble, her breathing to quicken. “D-Don’t—You’re drunk out of your mind, Windsong. You're not thinking straight.”
Windsong grabs both of her cheeks, firm yet gentle, the fire in her eyes matching Vila’s own tamed yet wavering one. “That's right, because when it comes to you I cannot think straight, ever. You turned my whole world upside down, you made all my rationality and calculations and logic fly out the window. Y-You,” she stumbles, the alcohol in her system most likely jumbling her erratic thoughts and rapid shot words. “You, Vila…”
Vila takes a shaky breath, her whole body trembling now. “Windsong, please , don't—”
“I love you.” And her whole world stops at those three words, words she dreamed about hearing for months now, that she fantasizes about every night. Windsong presses their foreheads together, and she feels she cannot breathe, that she cannot move nor react at all, the conflicting emotions at this situation rendering her completely still. “I love you so, so much, Vila. You're one of the best goddamn people left on this shitty planet.”
Vila can't even answer, still reeling at her sudden confession and the fact Windsong’s lips press against hers, desperate and clumsy, loving and hungry. Despite her troubled emotions Vila finds herself receiving and answering the kiss, her arms going around Windsong's neck as she deepens it, as she lightly bites her lower lip to gain access into her mouth.
She does not realize her hands move to remove the researcher’s coat, that they fiddle with her shirt's buttons in an attempt to open it. Windsong’s hands start to wander down as well, and when they break apart to regain their breaths her mouth finds her neck almost immediately and Vila softly moans, the woman managing to find her sensitive spots almost effortlessly.
She does not realize either how one of Windsong's hands manages to clumsily unbutton her shirt, slipping it inside and touching her colder skin, her fingers brushing some of her scales in the process.
Vila's heart is about to give in, any rational thought left in her mind gone as soon as that warm hand caresses her skin. Their lips find each other again and her hands start to play with Windsong’s belt, the taller woman slowly sliding her shirt and jacket down her shoulders, both of her hands now gaining access to her chest, stomach and waist.
She's at Windsong’s complete mercy, and she doesn't mind it one bit.
It's only when Windsong picks her up and places her down on her bed that Vila remembers her current state, that when the researcher starts the process to remove her skirt she realizes what she's doing, getting completely carried away and unfairly taking advantage of her addled mind.
“W-Windsong, wait,” she breathes out, the woman on top of her failing at first to hear her, until Vila grabs her cheeks and forces her to stop. “Please, stop.”
Ironic considering Vila is half naked, and Windsong’s shirt was partially open and her belt completely gone. Windsong looks almost hurt, which clenches her rapid-beating heart. “Why…?” Her ragged breath falls on her lips, its alcohol scent now accentuated that the blonde slowly regains control of her senses. “Do you…not want this? Do you not want…me?”
Vila feels like crying, witnessing Windsong’s heartbroken eyes and voice. She gently squeezes her cheeks. “No, no, I really want this, and I want you. God, I really do. But…not like this, when you're not in your right mind. It wouldn't be fair.”
“But…”
“Windsong.” She gently pushes her to the side and away from her, before Vila’s resolve shatters once more. She places her head on her pillow, lovingly caressing one of her cheeks. “You need some sleep now. We can…do this later, when you feel better, alright?”
Windsong chokes back a sob. “...Did I hurt you?”
Vila’s own eyes burn as she takes a gulp of air. “No, no, my love, you did nothing wrong. If anything, I'm at fault here for not stopping you sooner.”
Windsong closes her eyes, Vila’s gentle touch and voice seemingly lulling her to sleep. “Vila…it's not your fault…It never is…I'm sorry…”
Her voice gradually lowers down, until she drifts to sleep in a matter of minutes.
Vila sighs heavily, lowering her head and leaving a short and sweet kiss on her lips. “There's nothing to apologize for, dummy.” She then fixes the researcher's clothes back into place, removing her boots as well and covering her up with a blanket, retrieving her own clothes and putting back the stuff they had thrown back to her desk.
The Rusalka's heart is troubled, sad and disappointed, yet soaring and joyful. Windsong had kissed her. Windsong said that she loves her. Would she even remember all this the following morning? She hopes so, yet at the same time dreads so in equal measure.
Vila wishes to stay, but decides against it. She needs time to cool off, perhaps take a couple more drinks until her own mind is gone and sleep overtakes her.
Before she leaves, she kneels down by the side of Windsong's bed, gently running a hand through her hair. Vila smiles. “...Why did you never say how you felt, Windsong? We could…we could be so much more. I…I also love you so, so much, don't you realize that? How much longer are you going to run away from your heart, from me?”
She sighs, her cheeks red as she exasperatedly chuckles. “I truly fell in love with a moron, didn't I?”
But Vila herself is a moron, willing to wait for all eternity if needed. Of all the people on this planet, this is the one that snatched her heart away, the one that she so helplessly needed and wanted by her side, like a fresh sea breeze, like the ocean gently lapping at the shore. The one she cannot live without.
She leans in and softly kisses her forehead. “...Good night, my love.”
She stands up, and slowly makes her way out of her room, almost hesitant, as if knowing as soon as she stepped out the spell would be broken, and Windsong would forget everything, and they would return to their push and pull dance once more. Vila stops in front of the door, resting her head against it as she closes her eyes and sighs.
She can still feel Windsong’s lips over hers, over her neck and collarbone, still feel her fingers exploring her body and her lilac eyes greedily drinking in the sight. How is Vila supposed to pretend nothing happened if she doesn't remember anything? How is she supposed to act if she does? Should she remind her if she forgets? Should she just give in and kiss her too?
She softly groans against the wood and gently opens the door, casting a last glance to Windsong’s sleeping form before exiting the room and stomping on her lovesick heart once again.
The next morning Windsong wakes up with a groan, a dull headache greeting her as soon as she opens her eyes, her mouth completely dry as she tries to remember who she is, where she is, and what happened.
She's laying on her bed, fully clothed and a blanket draped over her. She sits down with some difficulty, dizzy and wincing at the pain inside her head. Had she drank too much? This sensation was overly familiar to her. She scans her room, completely intact safe for her own mess over the desk and floor, which was completely normal. Her eyes land on her night table, and they slightly widen at finding a note and a glass of water with some pills resting over a folded napkin.
She picks up the note, recognizing that elegant handwriting immediately.
This is for you, comrade Windsong.
You ended up losing our little competition, by the way, which is why I had to drag you back to your room drunk out of your mind. Take it easy today, alright? You need it.
With love,
Vila
P.S: Never underestimate a Rusalka's drinking capacity again~
Windsong smiles, softly chuckling. Ah, that's right. She foolishly tried to compete against Vila, and clearly lost. Just how much did she drink last night? She hoped she hadn't said anything stupid or compromising to her friend while in such a state.
She frowns, trying to remember anything, but everything after that party is black, out of her reach. She sighs as she takes all the pills at once and gulps them down with water, and leans back down into her bed.
Yes, the morning could wait. She was in no state to get up and start her day anyway, and when she closes her eyes and sleep overtakes her, her last thought is Vila's bright smile and her gentle blue eyes.
She wakes up several hours later, feeling refreshed and well rested. She yawns and stretches, glancing at the clock on her night table as she sits down slowly, ruffling her hair and blinking away the remaining dredges of sleep in her system.
She's starving now, and she should probably get started on her work sooner rather than later, already having wasted more than half a day sleeping. She gets up, slightly swaying to one side before catching herself, sighing as she realizes she should shower as well.
Once she's fresh out of the shower and with a fresh change of clothes, she heads out towards the cafeteria in the Foundation, her stomach loudly grumbling as she hastens her steps.
She wonders where Vila is, if she's busy with class or other things. She's already missing her like a sick puppy, as if they hadn't seen each other for months now. Perhaps she would find her in the cafeteria as well, or could simply ask the kids back at the school, and go on a walk or perhaps finally take her offer of learning to play the accordion.
God, just how desperate is she to see Vila again? It's as if her heart can't beat properly without her, as if she couldn't breathe without gazing at those beautiful crystal blue eyes of hers.
It's only when she finishes eating and goes around the Foundation and the suitcase asking for Vila’s whereabouts that she starts to grow concerned, the children themselves wondering where she is, since she didn't show up for class. That was highly unlike her, and the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach expands to her throat, the doubts in her mind resurfacing.
What if she did something stupid last night? Vila had left her a note and seemed fine, so how come it seemed she had completely vanished from the face of the Earth? How come nobody had seen her?
But once she crosses eyes with Name Day on a hallway and he quickens his pace she knows something's up.
“Oi, wait!” She starts walking faster and then runs once the boy breaks into a sprint.
“Leave me alone, miss Windsong!” He yells ahead, the researcher's longer legs and overall better physique quickly catching up to him, despite her recently nursed hangover.
She grabs him by the collar, forcing him to stop, and pushes him against the wall with more force than she intends. She loosens her grip soon after, yet still holds him as she leans down. “Where is she?”
“W-Who?” Name Day flinches underneath her seething eyes, squirming under her grip.
“Don't play dumb. You know who I'm talking about.” Windsong did not have the patience nor time for games. If she had truly done something stupid last night she needed to know, needed to make amends as soon as possible. “You know where Vila is.”
The boy gulps. “No? I haven't seen her since this morning—ah.”
Windsong narrows her eyes, a dangerous smile on her lips. “So you do know. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me where, before I punch the answer out of you?”
Name Day blanches. “A-Alright, alright, no need for violence! I was just trying to keep my promise!”
“Promise?” Windsong slowly lets go of his scarf, and he quickly fixes it back in place. “What promise?”
He sighs. “She, uh, miss Vila needed some time alone, away from everybody. She made me promise not to say anything, since, well, technically we're not supposed to leave the Foundation without the proper authorization and such.”
Suddenly Windsong understands, her eyes widening. “...She went back. To Rayashki.”
Name Day raises a hand. “Just for a short visit, she assured me! She's not planning on staying there again. I guess she grew a bit homesick and who am I to deny a request from a lady in distress?”
Windsong glares at him in response to that, and he tears his eyes away. “T-That’s all, I promise! She's not in danger or anything. She should be back soon, I'm sure.”
“Well.” She smirks, straightening up to her full height, hovering over him. “Mind helping another lady in distress, then?”
“W-What? But I promised that—”
Windsong punches the wall beside him, and he immediately quiets down. “So? What's your answer now, pretty boy?”
Name Day sighs heavily, probably lamenting his already ruined day. “...Follow me, miss Windsong.”
She grins. “Attaboy.”
Windsong finds Vila quickly enough, overlooking the smaller and yet underdeveloped Rayashki below, sitting close to the edge of the cliff and apparently deeply lost in thought as she doesn't even stir once she approaches, her boots crunching over the accumulated snow on the ground.
“Vila,” she calls out softly, stopping beside her, and the Rusalka starts, blue eyes widening in shock at her sudden appearance.
“Windsong…?” Her blue eyes were puffy, and she quickly averted her eyes as if aware of that fact, hugging her knees. “W…What brings you here?”
Her voice is lacking her usual cheerfulness as well, so low she can barely hear it against the biting cold wind. Windsong frowns, slowly sitting down and crossing her legs, keeping some distance between them. “I, well, I was worried. Nobody knew where you were, and it was getting late. Are you…” she hesitates, briefly glancing at her. “...Were you crying?”
Vila sniffs, hugging herself as her body slightly trembles, still avoiding her eyes. “I…I'm fine, Windsong. I just needed some time alone, that's all.”
Windsong doubts that. She removes her coat and gently drapes it over Vila's shoulders, who tenses under her touch, and she immediately pulls away. “I—I'm sorry.” She scoots away from her, but Vila’s hand grabs her wrist.
“...Stay,” she says softly, vulnerable. It's the first time she hears such an emotion from her.
Windsong relaxes. “Of course.”
Vila lets go of her wrist, only to entwine their arms and to lean her head against her shoulder, which causes Windsong’s breath to slightly hitch, but she lets her. She would let Vila do whatever she wants with her, she realizes.
Still, she needs to know. Needs to know if this is her fault. “Did I…Did I hurt you?”
Vila does not reply right away, but Windsong doesn't press her, despite her growing dread and anxiety.
“...So you don't remember.” Vila's voice is fragile, so much so that if she moves she could shatter her into a million pieces.
Her answer confirms her fears. “...So I did, huh.”
Vila squeezes her arm. “No, Windsong, you didn't. You could never. I simply felt…lost. Unsure on what I'm supposed to do now, if anything I do really matters now. I…” She heaves a shaky breath, her voice cracking. “...Rayashki was my whole life, my reason for living. Losing it so suddenly and without any warning…messed me up, and I didn't realize it. I tried to move forward, to carry its legacy with the children, but…it hurts, Windsong. It hurts so much.”
Windsong’s heart breaks, her suspicions proven right in the worst way possible. Vila had indeed been pushing everything inside, not really processing the loss of Rayashki, of what that entailed. She knew those feelings would eventually catch up to her, and she is glad to be here when it happened.
Because she's sure as hell to catch her when she falls, to lift her up when she's taken down. It's what she has done for her when they first met, and what she continued to do whenever Windsong faltered or hesitated.
She silently turns to her side and uses her other arm to bring Vila closer, to envelop her with a hug as she rests her head against her shoulder. “It's alright, Vila. I got you. Allow yourself to hurt. Only then will you start healing.”
Vila gasps, unmoving for a few seconds before her arms wrap around her as well, her shoulders trembling as sobs start to rack her body.
Windsong tightens her embrace as she cries, determined to hold her until the end of times. She runs a hand down her hair, down her back, and never lets go.
Vila only pulls away once her breathing is more stable, her eyes red and snot falling down her nose. Windsong slightly chuckles at that and rummages through one of her coat pockets and takes out a handkerchief, gently wiping away at her nose. She glances at her shoulder then. “Hmm, and I had just done laundry.”
Vila sniffs, guilt in her eyes. “Ah, I'm sorry, I can wash it later…”
Windsong softly shakes her head, brushing away tears from Vila’s eyes. “I'm joking, Vila. You can ruin as many shirts as you want, I don't mind.” She softly caresses her cheek. “Just…Don't hold everything in, alright? You're allowed to have weaknesses like any other person. Whenever you feel lost, I'll be there to guide you back home.”
God, what was she saying? She couldn't control herself, yet those were her honest feelings, and she knew Vila needed support now more than ever. The Rusalka simply stared at her, before lowering her eyes and softly chuckling, apparently amused at something.
“...And where would home be, comrade?”
Windsong hesitates, her throat constricting, before gathering her courage and being brave for once. “...Wherever you are, comrade.”
There's silence for a few seconds before Vila starts laughing, some stray tears falling down her eyes as she looks back at Windsong, and her heart catches in her throat at such beauty, at such clear and strong love present in her eyes.
“...Do you even realize what you're saying, Windsong?” Vila pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks slightly alight.
Windsong clenches her jaw before unclenching it, parting her lips yet no words coming out at first. She clears her throat and tries again. “Something…something happened last night, I can tell. I…Did I try to, uh, w-well…”
There goes her confidence, averting her eyes as she could no longer hold her expectant gaze. “Yes?” Vila teases, and she leans in closer, Windsong slightly pulling back as her cheeks grow red.
She can't say it. She would explode otherwise. Vila's silence doesn't help either, further confirming her suspicions.
She hears a chuckle again, a hand softly pressing on her cheek and making her look directly at the Rusalka. “My dear and silly Windsong, are you going to make a move or not?”
Windsong widens her eyes, all the air draining from her lungs as she loses herself in blue, suddenly forgetting the biting cold on her body, the only thing mattering in the whole world being the amazing woman waiting for her, waiting for her to seal what they had both been feeling for months now, what the researcher refuses to acknowledge in fear of messing it up, of hurting the person she loves the most in this uncertain world.
But she is right, isn't she? Said uncertainty could separate them forever, and there was only so much time Vila was willing to wait for her, before she moved on and found someone else.
And Windsong does not want that.
She wants Vila all to herself.
Windsong takes a deep breath, as if preparing to dive into the ocean.
Then she leans down and captures her lips, closing her eyes as Vila smiles into the kiss before gladly returning it, her hands running through her silver hair as she pulls her closer, as if she needs her to melt into her skin.
Windsong’s heart is loudly pounding in her head, and she feels dizzy and overwhelmed, yet relief courses through her veins at realizing they both desire each other like this, that they both want this.
Vila pushes into her mouth and she gladly opens it, the Rusalka suddenly strapping her with her legs as she sits on her lap, her arms snaking around her neck as she deepens the kiss. Once they pull away to breathe, Vila lines her mouth over her neck and gently bites into it, Windsong's whole body shuddering in delight. She quickly finds her lips again and desperately takes them as if without them she would starve to death.
Someone very awkwardly clears their throat in the distance, and both women begrudgingly pull away from each other, a slight trail of saliva hanging between them still.
“Uhhh, I'm guessing they're okay in the end.” Name Day is covering his face, the Timekeeper standing next to him with a slight smile on her face and the kids looking with different degrees of curiosity and embarrassment.
Nina yelps with joy. “I knew it! I knew they were going to kiss. They always acted like my parents did with each other.”
“Wait,” another member from the suitcase, Regulus, butts in. “You guys were not together? But you were always making lovey dovey eyes at each other!”
Lilya snickers beside her. “I’m guessing they're just like Vertin and Sonetto.”
“Ooooh! So like, one is dense as a sack of bricks and the other yearns very badly for said dense idiot?” Regulus says, a hand on the rim of her glasses.
“Oi,” Vertin slightly pushes her, a faint blush on her cheeks.
Avgust lifts his sunflower. “The seeds of love have finally bloomed!”
Windsong leans into Vila’s shoulder and closes her eyes. “Oh, just kill me already, please.”
Vila just laughs at her reaction, lovingly wrapping her arms around her. “No way, my lovely sack of bricks~”
Windsong loudly groans as she further burrows herself into Vila, wishing for the ground to swallow her whole.
Windsong is honestly surprised at how little things changed between them after that kiss, smoothly transitioning into a relationship that wasn't that much different from before. The only difference now is that Windsong can kiss and hug Vila whenever she wants, or more specifically, the Rusalka can be openly affectionate and takes every chance to do so. The researcher is still a bit awkward about it, but she'll be damned if she doesn't try to return a speck of what Vila's boundless love is.
It only further confirms how obvious they had been all along, and how oblivious and dumb Windsong could be. She feels like slapping herself a few times—no, a ton of times—for not realizing sooner, for not making a move way earlier to enjoy Vila's love at its fullest.
She needs to make up for it.
“Where are you taking me?” Vila asks with a smile behind her, stepping over rocks with ease, the waves next to them gently lapping against the shore.
“Not telling.” Windsong continues walking, guiding Vila through this hidden corner of a beach they find themselves in, the moon shining brightly above them. Her colder and smaller hand fits perfectly with her warmer and larger one. “You'll just have to trust me.”
“Now that's ominous,” she says, stepping beside her. “And here I was thinking we were about to have a long and romantic walk on the beach.”
Windsong chuckles. “Trust me, what I'm about to show you will be a thousand times better.”
“Oh? Consider my interest piqued now.”
“You mean it wasn't before?” Windsong retorts.
“Hmm, not sure.”
The ley line researcher grins. “Aren't you hard to please, your majesty.”
Vila pulls away her hand only to wrap her arm around hers. “Well, someone took her sweet time to gather the courage to kiss me. It's only fair to have high expectations now, right?”
Windsong snickers. “What, do you want me to dress as a prince and rescue you from a proverbial tower, princess?”
Vila slightly pinches her arm. “Hmm, maybe I can consider the prince part.”
The researcher glances at her with amusement. “No way. You think I can afford princely clothes to begin with?”
“What about a sailor?” She smirks. “You know, like in that movie?”
Windsong laughs. “The Little Mermaid?” She pretends to be considering it, a hand on her chin. “You know, maybe it's not so bad. You wouldn't be able to speak, which would work in my favor.”
“Windsong!” Vila playfully pushes her, causing the researcher to almost trip with the rocks, which only makes her laugh even more.
“Just stating scientific facts,” she says as she straightens up.
“Hmm, let's see if science can save you from accidentally drowning in the sea.”
“I don't know, you need a kiss from your ‘true love’ to break the spell or whatever. You shouldn't be getting rid of me so soon.”
“Was it like that?” She asks, her arm returning, slotting comfortably against her body. “I thought the princess had to eat her lover's body and spend the rest of her life mourning her loss, wailing at sea and luring sailors to their dooms.”
Windsong burst out laughing at that. “What? What version of the story are you talking about? You would give poor Avgust nightmares with that one.”
Vila chuckles. “Well, that's what most people think that Rusalki do. Eat humans, drown them, or other colorful things that normally involve gruesome deaths.”
Windsong pretends to shiver. “Oh no, and I happen to have a Rusalka right next to me. Whatever shall I do?”
Their banter continues for a few minutes until they reach the entrance to a small cave, and Windsong halts, smiling down at her partner.
“Well, princess, we have arrived.”
“A grotto?” Vila regards the dark entrance with curiosity.
“Precisely.” Windsong smirks. “Shall we go in?”
Vila looks at her, lifting an eyebrow. “Aren't you afraid of a possible high tide that could flood the cave?”
“Pfft, I have a Rusalka with me. What's there to be afraid of?”
Vila chuckles. “Fair point.”
They both head inside then, Vila marveling at the beautifully and naturally shaped rocks, Windsong using a small flashlight to guide them further inside.
Once they pass the point she had marked previously on an inconspicuous rock, she smiles and stops, placing an arm on Vila.
“Wait, Vila.” Her smile widens. “Do you trust me?”
The Rusalka grins. “If I didn't I wouldn't have agreed to come inside a creepy and dark cave, right?”
Windsong chuckles. “Right. Well, close your eyes then, and don't open them until I say so.”
Vila does as told, and she grabs her hand and slowly starts guiding her forward, where the tunnel goes down into a small clearing where a lake with a boat is waiting, guiding them even further down the cave.
She carefully goes down into the boat and helps her sit down into it, Vila just chuckling in confusion yet still keeping her eyes closed during the whole process. Once Windsong starts pushing down the boat further into the cave down a narrow tunnel she speaks again, turning off her flashlight since she doesn't even need it anymore. “Alright, you can open them up now.”
Vila slowly opens them up, and her eyes widen and immediately go up to the ceiling above, shining brightly not unlike a starry sky and reflecting on the water around them. The glow continues all the way down the tunnel.
Windsong marvels at the expression in Vila’ eyes, the ‘stars’ reflecting on her eyes as well. She chuckles. “They're called Glowworms. They're a type of insects that produce bioluminescence. Pretty neat, right?”
Vila's eyes are still glued to the ceiling as they slowly drift down the tunnel. “Windsong, this is…” She looks back at her, and her blue eyes seem to shine brighter than all the bugs around them. “This is beautiful!”
Not as much as you, she wants to say, but decides to simply enjoy Vila's excitement instead. Her expression alone makes all her preparations worth the effort.
Which brings her to the next phase of her plan. She clears her throat, and gently grabs Vila’s hand, hoping the lights would conceal the shade of red on her face. “Vila,” she starts quite eloquently, her lilac eyes focusing on their hands. “I…I just want to say something.”
Vila grins as she leans her free hand against her face, deeply amused. “Yes, go on.”
Windsong takes a deep breath. “Well, uh, I'm a mess. I'm constantly broke, I insist on reviving a dying discipline with little to no results. I basically only own what I have in my pockets, and the only thing I know how to cook is instant noodles.” She sighs. “My future is uncertain, if I have one. Even then…” She slowly looks up at Vila, who seems ready to retort all her words yet respectfully kept silent. She hesitates, her hand starting to tremble, and Vila gently squeezes it until it calms down. “Even then, would you still take me? Would you still accept me…like this?”
At her last words she looks down, unable to hold her gaze for long, the doubts that held her back for making a move resurfacing once more as they finally got together. What if Vila gets tired of her? What if she's just not good enough for her? Vila only deserves the best, after everything she has gone through. She deserves to be fully loved by who she is rather than for what she is.
“Windsong…” Vila scoots closer to the edge of her seat, and thankfully the boat is on the small side so it's easier for her to lean in and grab the researcher's face. “You just took me to the most beautiful place I have ever been in my life, and you still doubt yourself?” She sighs, softly smiling as she caresses her face. “You dummy. I didn't fall in love with a perfect version of you. I fell for you , Windsong, the one so thoughtful and loving that accepts me as Vila, that just sees that and not the fact I'm half Rusalka or anything. The one that saved our village, the one that saved me. And, yes.” She fondly chuckles. “Even the one that dresses messily and has no money, and that her special dish is cup noodles. I love and accept all of you, Windsong.”
Windsong shudders under such honesty. “V-Vila…” She could honestly cry right here, her heart swelling at her words. She closes her eyes as she feels unshed tears at the corner of her eyes. She sniffs, suddenly remembering something as she opens her eyes. “...Is it not too late to say that my name is not even Windsong?”
“H-Huh?” Vila’s shock makes her slightly laugh.
She glances up above, as if recalling such a name brings back unpleasant memories, which it does. “...Ekaterina. My real name is Ekaterina.”
Vila slowly drags down her hands and places them on Windsong’s knees, reeling at the revelation. “Ekaterina…” She repeats, and after a few more seconds of shock her eyes soften, her smile widens. “Ekaterina. That's a beautiful name.”
Windsong blushes. “No, not really. I would prefer if you still call me Windsong, it's what I'm used to anyway. But I felt like you had the right to know.”
“Of course.” Vila grabs both of her hands now. “Any other groundbreaking secrets I should know then?”
At that, Windsong smiles wholeheartedly. “I love you.”
Vila freezes for half a second before bursting out laughing, calming down after a few breaths. “I said secrets, Windsong. You've already told me that.”
She pales. “H-Huh? I did?”
Vila smirks. “When you were drunk. You kissed me and everything.”
“H-Huh?!” Windsong moves so abruptly the boat violently rocks to one side and they almost end up capsizing. “W-Why didn't you tell me before?! I thought I never said it!”
The Rusalka starts laughing again. “It doesn't count if you don't even remember, right?”
The researcher sulks back into her seat, putting her hands over her head. “Ugh, and here I had this whole speech planned…”
“Windsong.” Vila retrieves her hands, pushing the long strand of hair away from her covered eye, her hand lingering there. “I don't need a speech or perfectly planned dates or a guaranteed future.” Her smile softens, her eyes shine under the stars. “I just need you . I just need your love, that's all.”
Windsong stares in silence at those mesmerizing eyes, feeling more in love with her now than ever, if it is even fathomable. She smiles then, resting her hand against hers. “...Then you have it. Now, and for the rest of my life.”
Vila leans in and kisses her, gently and slowly, and Windsong happily returns the kiss as the sky of living lights passes them by up ahead. Vila gets a bit enthusiastic as they go on, however, and before they could stop it the boat tilts to one side and both end up falling into the water.
Windsong breaks into the surface with a gasp, Vila immediately grabbing her by the shoulders to keep her afloat. “I-I'm sorry, I didn't notice! Are you alright?”
The researcher takes a few seconds to come back to her senses, and then bursts out laughing, their boat continuing to drift down the tunnel upside down. “See? Benefits of having a Rusalka girlfriend.”
“Oh, shush, I know you know how to swim, don't pretend.”
Windsong slackens her body and Vila scrambles to hold her up. “I think I forgot how, sorry. Now you have to carry me all the way down and then back outside.”
Vila grins sharpens. “Hmm, I have a better idea. Hold your breath.”
Windsong widens her eyes. “Wait, Vila—”
Once she realizes she's not stopping, Windsong immediately closes her mouth and holds her breath just in time as Vila dives down into the water, her eyes closing in instinct as well as all sounds cease to exist, where time suddenly stops and its suspended like their bodies slowly falling into the bottom of the tunnel.
Windsong opens her eyes, and sees the starry sky up above and opens her mouth accidentally. Before she can start losing any oxygen, however, she feels Vila's lips on hers as she exhales air into her lungs, and then continues to kiss her.
Would her younger self believe she would find herself one day inside a glowing cave kissing a half-Rusalka underwater? She would've laughed, probably. Those types of things were the stuff of fairytales, and not science like her brain was so obsessed with. No, there was simply no way such a thing could happen to someone like Windsong, so focused on being a ley line Hunter and nothing else. There was simply no way anything or anyone could rival her obsession.
And then she met Vila.
Once the makeshift method of sharing oxygen turns out to be not so effective anymore Vila returns them to the surface, gliding through the water effortlessly as Windsong holds on to her, laughing and teasing her a bit more until they reach the end of the tunnel, where a vast and high clearing waits for them alongside their upside down boat.
Windsong takes out her coat and wrings it, a fair amount of water dropping down. She does the same with her hair as well, and glances back at Vila. “The tour didn't include swimming in the water, miss. This is going to cost you extra.”
Vila scoffs in disbelief, echoing through the chamber. “Are you charging me ?”
Windsong puts back her wet coat, pushing her wet hair to one side as she sharply grins. “With interests as well.”
Vila rolls her eyes as she chuckles. “I can't believe it. I'm dating a conwoman.”
Windsong steps closer to her. “Well, who was the one who said that ‘loves all of me’?”
The Rusalka pushes one of her braids aside. “I take it back.”
“No take backs, I'm afraid.” She grabs one of her hands. “You're stuck with me now.”
Vila entwines their fingers together, smiling. “Oh no, whatever shall I do now?”
The researcher chuckles as she starts walking.
Well, Windsong can confidently say that their first ‘official’ date is a rotund success.
Once they get back into the suitcase Windsong insists on escorting her back to her room, even when their rooms are literally right next to each other. Vila rolls her eyes at her yet appreciates her gentlemanly tendencies all the same.
She opens her door, slightly hesitant to go back in yet.
Windsong takes notice of that. “Is something wrong, Vila?”
The Rusalka bites her lip for a few seconds before she decides to follow her heart as well, turning around and grabbing her girlfriend’s tie.
“V-Vila?” The researcher stammers as she's pulled inside her room, Vila immediately locking up the door behind her.
Vila pushes her against the door, serious at first but then grins. “We still have some unfinished business, my love.”
Windsong widens her eyes before Vila greedily takes her lips in, with all the force of her hunger and love for the researcher, like a precariously held dam finally breaking and letting all flood in.
That night she sleeps placidly wrapped around Windsong's arms, naked yet incredibly warm and fulfilled.
Vila walks next to her, their fingers loosely wrapped against each other's. “Do you have everything you need?”
Windsong makes a mental note of her belongings one more time, touching her back to make sure her backpack, filled with food and supplies that Vila insisted she needs, is still there and hasn't magically disappeared as they make their way to the Foundation. “I do.”
“Your notes, your tools?”
Windsong checks her bag and her pockets. “Still there as well.”
“Your wallet?”
Windsong snorts. “Now that's funny. Still there, even if it's only to hold linen and my old ID.”
“Good.” Vila nods, stopping right at the entrance of the Foundation and crosses her arms. “And? Aren't you forgetting something else?”
Windsong sighs and rolls her eyes, smiling. “If I die you'll kill me.”
Vila nods again and uncrosses her arms, fixing her scarf and coat. She lets her hands linger on her sleeves as she smiles as well. “...Safe travels, Windsong.”
The researcher pulls her into a hug, and Vila tightly squeezes her. “I'll miss you, Vila.”
“... I'll miss you too.”
They hold each other like that for a few minutes, both reluctant to let go first. It's Vila that ends up gently pulling away and pecks her lips, trying her hardest to not drag her back into the suitcase. She has work to do, even if it will keep them separated for a couple of months.
“Take care of yourself and the kids, alright?” Windsong brushes her cheek.
Vila giggles. “I'm more worried about your wellbeing than mine.”
“Oh, shut it.” Windsong laughs as she kisses her. Vila could kiss her until no more air reaches her lungs, until her heart stops altogether.
They kiss a few more times until Vila has to hold her back, laughing. “Alright, Windsong, you'll get more once you return.”
Windsong slightly pouts, reluctantly stepping back. “Promise?”
Vila sighs as she pinches one of her cheeks. “Promise.”
Windsong straightens up then, bracing herself. “I'll see you soon then, Vila.”
Vila makes a salute. “I'll be waiting, Windsong.”
They stare at each other for a heartbeat before Windsong turns around and her silhouette disappears through the portal that connects the suitcase to the Foundation HQ.
Vila slowly lets her hand fall to her side, already missing her presence. She sighs, softly shaking her head as she smiles, turning around and heading back to her room.
The notion that she has become like a wife waiting for her husband to return from war or a long trip overseas slightly amuses her.
Oh, how she loves this woman.