“Raise your fists a little further up.” Thick bandages wrap around Vi’s hands, and she shows them off when she lifts them up for the demonstration she’s giving you. They’re ivory— a little tainted with dirt but not bloody, thank god. She hasn’t hit anything so hard as to cause the skin of her own knuckles to crack, and you’re glad about that. But she might have to in order to show you how to actually punch properly.

You’re her girlfriend of— what— two months? And she’s only just come to the realisation that you know nothing about fighting? She knew she needed to change that because what was she supposed to do if you were trapped in a situation where you had to fight? She really didn’t want to risk it.

She had managed to get the training room for the enforcers all to herself (she had somehow managed to convince Caitlyn), and she had dragged you along in order to help you out.

“Don’t tuck your thumb into your fist, cupcake.” At least she’s still being loving and calling you pet—names even if she’s trying to be more serious as your combat teacher. “You hit someone with that and you’ll end up breaking it.” And she watches you as you adjust how you’ve got your fist formed, basically making sure it was the correct way.

She definitely thought that you would’ve been taught something by your family when you were younger, but your parents were so set on you being a privileged snob that they never even talked to you about it (not like you did turn out to be a snob).

“Try hitting me again, yeah? Don’t be scared to hurt me. I’ll be okay.”