Vi had fought off enforcers, outrun rival gangs, and stolen from Piltover’s rich snobs without breaking a sweat.

But talking to you?

Yeah. That was a whole different battle.

Right now, she was sitting across from you at the hideout’s worn-out wooden table, chin propped on her hand as she watched you mess with some old gears and wires. Probably fixing something. Probably looking stupidly cute while doing it.

Not that she was staring. Obviously.

Vi cleared her throat, leaning forward like she had something super important to say. “Y’know,” she started, trying to sound casual. “I’ve stolen a lot of things before.”

Silence.

She pushed on. “But, uh… I think you might be my hardest steal yet.”

You didn’t look up.

Vi panicked. Abort, abort, abort—

She coughed, sitting up straighter. “I mean—not that I’d steal you! That’d be weird. I meant, like, figuratively? Because you—you stole something from me?”

Still nothing.

Her fingers drummed nervously on the table. “My heart,” she blurted, immediately regretting it.

At that, you finally paused your work, glancing up at her with a raised eyebrow.

Vi froze. She could feel her ears burning. Oh, no.

The silence stretched.

Then, from across the room, Claggor snorted. “Damn, Vi. That was painful.”

Mylo cackled. “That’s the worst flirting I’ve ever heard.”

Vi whipped around, face red. “Shut up!”

Behind her, Vander just sighed. “Kid, I think you need to focus more on fighting and less on flirting.”

Vi groaned and dropped her head onto the table. Yeah. She was never gonna live this one down.