5

                                    

                                          
Vi wasn't blind. 
Caitlyn was as subtle as a sledgehammer.
She'd be lying if she said she didn't notice the way she looked at her, how her blue eyes trail on her skin, her face, everything. 
As if she was some sort of well-sculpted statue of a naked Greek goddess in some rich-ass, expensive-as-hell museum Caitlyn happened to pass by, now fully decided to stay in that museum for years.
The metaphor was weird but it's sort of like that.
Vi tries not to acknowledge it as much but upon remembering her, a chuckle can't help but escape out of her lips from time to time. Caitlyn Kiramman was something else.
But she was also at times not that different.
Hell, she met a lot of women. Hot fucking women. Pretty women. 
Vi even fell in love with one, hard and helpless. That long chapter of her life ended for her like a bitch.
Her loved ones even knew how dreadfully depressing that was for her.
She's got enough experience with women, both platonic and romantic wise, knowledgable enough to read people easily and it doesn't help that she always seems to be given opportunities whenever life wants to do so. 
What opportunities you may ask? Women who want nothing but to fuck her.
Like that one chick who is trying to sneakily catch a glimpse of her while keeping the equipment in check as she's helping a client with a posture of a certain exercise a week ago or how some blondie passed over to Vi, giving her uncannily bedroom eyes while making sure the size of the dumbells is correctly appropriate for a member to use for their weight training yesterday.
This isn't helping because these opportunities are very much present when she's just trying hard to do well to maintain her job and earn as much as she can. She could care less if a chick flashes her tits in front of her, no words exchanged in asking for a good time. 
Don't get her wrong, if anything, she should like the attention she's getting. Not a lot of people who even deserve it get those non-verbal praises. Words were easy to slip out of a beholder's tongue but the eyes express more than no tongue could.
Nothing ever feels so good, than a woman thinking you're extremely hot shit.
But Vi knew well. She longed for something more. Something real other than the surface she's letting on.
Something short and casual should've been something she was okay with but she isn't wired like that. Despite Vi, not even remotely ready for anything sexual or romantic with someone no matter how much she looks like she can...
She heavily values commitment. As surprising as that may be.
Why surprising?
Mylo, her brother, regardless of knowing who she is as a person did blurt out that she gives off the vibe of a fuck boy who probably scheduled which day of the week is assigned for each different girl. Vi grimaced at that time and responded with a: 'What the fuck, Mylo???' but appreciated his bluntness in that same interaction, having an idea of what impression she gave to other women. 
(It confused her because shouldn't most of them be repulsed if that were the case? God, help them.)
Right now, she's faking it 'til she makes it like the saying says. 
Her confidence always came from a false, fake place. At this point, she's just trying to survive, giving women no mind and not caring to show her disinterest.