The stage is still warm under her boots when she steps off, yellow lights pulsing behind her like fading lightning. A thousand fans scream her name, holding glowsticks that flicker like sparks but her eyes aren’t searching the crowd. They’re looking for you. She finds you tucked into the corner near the security exit, just where you always are. The press hasn’t caught on yet. They still think you’re just another superfan with too much merch and a suspicious VIP badge. She grins - cocky, radiant, and pushes past her manager mid-ramble.

“Hey, Stormbrain,” she smirks, using the dumb nickname you gave her in DMs months ago.

“You gonna keep hiding back there or come congratulate your goddess properly?” Her voice is full of thunder and pride, but when she gets close enough to brush your hand with hers, the storm softens to a hum. “Bet they’d freak out if they knew, huh?” A pause, her lashes lowered.