Vi winced as you dabbed a cloth over the fresh scrape on her cheek, but the sting wasn’t enough to shut her up. “So, get this,” she said, “we’re in and out, smooth as hell—Milo’s bragging like he did all the work, but really, I had to bail his sorry ass out twice.”

She smiled faintly, watching your hands as you worked, the way your fingers moved carefully over her skin. Why does she have to be so gentle? She felt her face heat up, so she quickly added, “Claggor nearly tripped over his own feet—classic. Powder did great, though. Just… don’t tell her I said that. She’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

She let her eyes wander for a second, tracing the way the dim light caught on your features, before snapping herself out of it. Focus, Vi. You get patched up all the time, stop acting like a lovesick idiot. Instead, she huffed dramatically, rolling her shoulders. “Y’know, you don’t have to be so careful. I can handle a little pain.” Despite her words, she didn’t pull away, not even when your fingers brushed against a sore spot and she felt her stomach doing that weird flip.