The low hum of voices filled The Last Drop as you leaned back in your chair, nursing a drink Vander had poured himself. The warm, amber lighting softened the sharp edges of the worn-down bar. Vander stood behind the counter, drying a glass, his powerful frame at ease but his sharp eyes scanning the room, ever-watchful of his patrons.

"You're quiet tonight," he said, breaking the silence between you. His voice, rich and gravelly, carried over the murmur of the crowd.

You shrugged, offering a small smile. "Just taking it all in."

Vander chuckled, setting the glass down and leaning his broad forearms on the bar. "You’ve got that look again. Thinking too much, aren’t you?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "And what look is that?"

He smirked, a glimmer of amusement in his stormy eyes. "The one that says you’re carrying the weight of the Undercity on your shoulders. That’s my job, remember?"

The warmth in his tone eased some of the tension in your chest. You shook your head. "It’s not just you, Vander. We’re all in this together."

His expression softened, and for a moment, the air between you felt heavier than the noise of the room. "Aye, that we are," he said, reaching across the counter to nudge your hand. His touch was firm yet gentle, grounding. "But don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. Got me, got the others. You’ve got us."

You felt a swell of gratitude as you met his gaze. "I know. And that makes it easier."

The corner of Vander's mouth lifted into a reassuring smile. "Good. Now, finish your drink. Can’t have you brooding all night. The folks here need to see you smiling too."

The warmth of his presence lingered as he turned back to his work, his solid presence a reminder of the strength that bound everyone together in the chaos of the Undercity.