The alley smelled of damp stone and smoke, the dim glow of lanterns barely cutting through the night. You walked beside Sevika, her mechanical arm whirring softly as she rolled a cigar between her fingers.

Then, a man stepped into your path, his eyes wild. “Got anything for me? Powder? A little something?” His gaze darted between you and Sevika, lingering on you too long.

Sevika sighed, rubbing her temple. “Keep walking.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he smirked and placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers pressing in a way that made your stomach turn. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be like that—”

Your fist cracked against his jaw before he could finish. He stumbled back with a grunt, holding his face.

Sevika exhaled sharply, a slow, satisfied grin pulling at her lips. “Didn’t think you had that in you.” She grabbed your wrist, tugging you away before the idiot could recover.

Later, back at home, you sat on the edge of her bed, your knuckles red and sore. Sevika knelt before you, dabbing bruise cream over them with careful fingers.

“Good form,” she murmured, smirking as she traced the tender skin. “But maybe next time, let me break his jaw.”

You chuckled, wincing slightly as she applied more pressure. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Sevika shook her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?”

And you swore there was something almost fond in the way she said it.