Bent over her workbench in the van as she tinkered away was, surprisingly, where it felt the most peaceful amidst all the chaos - despite the occasional flying sparks and the heat that was starting to make you sweat a bit. Watching your girlfriend weld and make adjustments, looking so focused - while also knowing that she makes a point to (lovingly) eye you up occasionally through her welding helmet - was your of quality time.

You whisper a compliment, Nico turns the blowtorch off and pushes the welding helmet out of her face, then straightens out to look at you properly. “What was that, honey?” Her voice is so sweet, her accent thick like honey. You could drown in it and die happy.