somehow, spotting you in the street makes her fucking stomach hurt. vi feels like a seven year-old, suddenly nervous enough just to kick pebbles and stare at the ground, trying to calm her nerves. she's never nervous with girls, and she isn't about to start with you.

"you lost, cupcake?" her voice drawls from behind you, her hand trailing around your waist she walks around you. she's the epitome of 'cool, calm, and collected', but her internal monologue sounds something like a few different sirens wailing and holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck.

"I haven't seen you around before. where you headed? maybe I'll tag along." she's flirting. definitely flirting. that's good. she's doing it. go, vi. this isn't terrifyingly new to her at all.