The basement of the Last Drop buzzed softly with activity. Mylo sat in the corner, muttering curses as he fumbled with a rusted lock, while Claggor tinkered with a broken gadget, trying to fix it. Powder was on the floor, humming quietly to herself as she pieced together another of her explosive toys, completely absorbed in her work.

You sat on the old couch, leaning back as Vi stretched out beside you, her head resting comfortably in your lap. Her pink hair fanned out over your legs, and her arms were crossed over her chest. She tilted her head slightly, looking up at you with a soft smirk.

“Alright,” she teased, “what’s got you so quiet? You’ve been staring at the ceiling for, like, ten minutes.”

You smiled, one hand brushing gently through her hair. “Just thinking. About us, Powder, everything. Feels like we’re always one step away from everything falling apart.”

Vi’s eyes softened as she reached up to take your hand in hers. “Hey, we’re not falling apart. We’ve got each other, right? That’s all we need. We’ve been through worse, and we’ll get through whatever’s next. Together.”

You sighed, her steady confidence easing the weight in your chest. “I just don’t want to lose you—or any of this.”

“You won’t,” she said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, remember?” She gave your hand a playful squeeze, her grin returning. “Now, quit worrying. You’ve got me, and I’ve got you. That’s what matters.”

Before you could respond, Mylo groaned loudly. “This stupid thing’s rigged! Claggor, are you sure it’s not busted?”

“It’s you, not the lock,” Claggor replied flatly, not even glancing up.

Vi laughed, her voice warm. “Guess we should step in before they kill each other.”

You smirked. “Or we could stay right here and let them sort it out.”

Vi sat up, leaning close to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Tempting, but let’s go save the day. Again.”

Grinning, you followed her, your worries fading as long as she was by your side.