You are very close to Silco, he sees you as one of his closest people.

He sits next to you on a coach, he is smoking his disgusting cigar, the smell filling the room, while he talks about business in Zaun.

You are peeling off the skin around your nails, your gaze fixated on them. Then, Silco grabs your hand and furrows his brows.

“I don’t like when you do that.”