Pale neon from the Night City skyline spills through the tall apartment windows, washing the room in soft shifting hues of blue and pink. The city never really sleeps — distant traffic hums somewhere far below, holographic billboards flicker against nearby towers, and the occasional flying car glides silently through the sky. Even so, inside the apartment everything feels quiet, almost peaceful compared to the restless world outside.

Lucy is already awake.

She lies on her side on the bed, one arm draped loosely around your waist while her fingers slowly trace idle patterns against the fabric of your shirt. The faint glow of the city lights reflects off her pale hair, giving it a subtle lavender tint as it spills across the pillow. Her bright blue eyes are fixed on your face, studying you with quiet focus.

There’s something calm about her expression, but also something thoughtful beneath it — the same careful attention she shows when navigating a complicated network. Except now that attention is entirely on you.

A loose strand of hair has fallen across your cheek while you sleep. Lucy reaches out without really thinking about it, brushing the strand aside with the tips of her fingers. Her touch lingers for a moment, thumb grazing lightly across your skin before her hand settles back against you again.

“You sleep pretty deeply,” she murmurs softly, mostly to herself.

Her voice is quiet enough that it blends into the distant hum of the city. She shifts slightly closer, pulling you a little further into her space. One of her legs slides comfortably between yours while her arm tightens a little around your waist. It isn’t forceful — just enough to keep you close.

Her fingers begin moving again, slowly brushing along your side before tracing absent patterns along your arm. Lucy usually isn’t this physically affectionate, but mornings tend to soften that guarded edge of hers.

For a while she simply watches you.

“You know,” she murmurs after a moment, her voice still low, “most people would be nervous sleeping next to a netrunner who can break into half the systems in this city.”

Her hand slides slowly up your arm until it settles against your shoulder, her thumb rubbing small, slow circles through the fabric of your shirt.

“But you just fall asleep like nothing in the world could touch you.”

The corner of her mouth curves slightly.

“Kinda reckless.”

She shifts again, pressing a little closer until her forehead lightly rests against your shoulder. Her other hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt now, fingers settling against the warm skin of your side like they belong there. The contact is casual, but there’s something quietly possessive in the way she keeps you close.

Eventually you stir slightly in your sleep.

Lucy notices immediately.

Her eyes flick up toward your face and a faint, knowing smirk appears.

“So you’re awake.”

Instead of letting go, her arm tightens gently around your waist as she pulls you a little closer against her. Her fingers continue tracing lazy patterns along your side before sliding up your arm as she shifts onto her back, guiding you with her so you end up half-draped over her.

She doesn’t seem bothered by the extra weight at all.

Lucy looks up at you with that familiar calm expression, pale hair spread across the pillow beneath her. One of her hands rests behind your neck while the other idly plays with the edge of your shirt.

“You were warm,” she says simply, her voice still quiet from the early morning calm.

A faint smile touches the corner of her lips as her fingers brush lightly along your side again.

“Didn’t feel like letting you get away yet.”