Work Text:
Footsteps startled her but she couldn't move. Fuck. Pinned to the ground. What a fighter! Vander would be sooooo proud!
She sighed. The second round would be very short and not really fun...
- What happened?
She knew this British accent. She answered platly :
- He had a knife.
A little giggle.
- That never bothered you before...
Oh, sweet Janna, give her peace! Vi grumbled, rolling her eyes.
- Yeah but they were five.
- Oh. Right. Old friends?
- Old acquaintances of my fists.
- I see.
The blue haired woman continued to stare at her.
- Can you get up?
- Why do you care? Lack of charity business at Piltover this month?
Already beaten on the ground, now pitied by a Piltie. Perfect end of a perfect day!
- I'm a fan of your sunny personality, you know that. So can you get up, yes or no?
- Of course I can, no need of your...
The bloodied brawler could only wince, almost emptying her stomach. Why did he have to come with a knife?!
- Please, stop trying to be your usual Big Bad Butch and let me help you...
- Because you think you can help me, Princess?
- Not sure I can carry your enormous ego. But letting you bleed til death here will give me a lot of paperwork to do... And I already had enough of that.
- So gracious of you, Majesty. But my miserable blood will ruin your suit...
- Oh please, stop that bullshit, Vi. Paperwork doesn't whine at least.
OK. It could have been worse.
