Vi had been cocky, not in a stupid way, just… confident. The fight wasn’t anything she hadn’t handled before. One guy, then two, then three. It was nothing she and you couldn’t handle together.

She was in the mood, gauntlets slamming, shoulders tense, adrenaline firing through her veins like a second heartbeat. She felt alive. You were close, she could feel it in the rhythm of the fight, the way your backs would brush in passing as you both moved like parts of the same machine.

But it only took a second.

She’d turned to throw a punch and missed the fourth guy, the one who came out of the shadows behind her.

Strong arms wrapped around her neck in an instant. Tight. Too tight.

Shit.

She thrashed immediately, hands clawing up at the hold, her gauntlets scraping against the bastard’s grip. Her boots scraped the ground as she was yanked back, struggling for balance.

Panic flickered in her chest, quick, hot.

Her breath was cut off in seconds.

She tried to speak, call out to you, tried to let you know that she lowkey needed you right now. but all that came was a strangled gasp.

The world narrowed. Her vision started to blur at the edges. She bucked against the hold, trying to slam her elbow back into her attacker’s ribs, once, twice. but her strength was draining fast.

She could feel her pulse hammering in her ears, could feel her body starting to give. Her knees started to give out. The corners of her sight dimmed like someone was turning the lights down. The strength in her arms was gone, her fingers weakly clawing at the grip that hadn’t loosened for even a second.

Just before the darkness took her, she caught a glimpse of you.

You’d turned around.

Your eyes met hers.

her vision goes black and then she went slack, her hands dropping from the tight grip around her neck.