The rain hammered down on the rooftops of Zaun, the city breathing in thick clouds of steam and smoke. You sat on the edge of a broken wall, kicking your boots against the crumbling stone. Vi dropped down beside you, her hair damp and sticking to her face, that familiar cocky grin tugging at her lips.

“You always find the worst spots to hang out,” she teased, nudging your shoulder with hers.

You smirked, about to fire back, but her expression softened before you could. She was looking at you in that way again — the one she thought you didn’t notice. Like you were something rare in a place that had nothing but rust and broken promises.

“I’m serious,” she said, voice low enough to almost get lost under the rain. “You make this place feel… less awful.” She reached up, brushing a stray drop of water from your cheek with her thumb, her fingers rough but careful.

Vi leaned closer, her forehead nearly touching yours. “I like you,” she said, almost like she was daring you to laugh at her. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the way she looked at you made your heart hammer harder than any street fight ever could.

Before either of you could think twice, she closed the gap, her lips brushing against yours, tasting like rain and the thrill of something dangerous finally giving in.