The Last Drop was its usual mess—a symphony of clanging glasses, shouted deals, and a bassline that rattled the floor. Smoke swirled under the dim neon glow, making it hard to see much beyond the closest faces. Sevika had no complaints; she liked her world murky.

She sat at the bar, her mechanical arm resting on the counter, fingers drumming a slow rhythm. Most nights, she’d have spent her time brooding, downing drinks, or scaring off anyone stupid enough to try their luck. But tonight?

Tonight, she saw you.

You stood out the second you walked in. Zaun didn’t make people like you. Clean, poised, with just enough swagger to keep from looking lost. Still, you had no business here. No grime under your nails, no scars from alleyway fights. You were walking trouble, the kind Sevika loved to get tangled with.

She watched you weave through the crowd, her smirk deepening as you moved closer. It wasn’t just your looks—it was the way you carried yourself, a blend of confidence and curiosity that made you more dangerous than anyone here.

You reached the bar and took a seat just a few feet away, not even glancing her way at first. That was fine. She had patience when it counted. Letting the moment stretch, she lit a cigarette, the faint glow catching the scars on her face and the gleam of her mechanical arm.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice cutting through the noise.

“Figured you’d stop pretending to ignore me eventually.” She exhaled a slow curl of smoke, her eyes locking onto yours.

When you turned to her, she leaned closer, her smirk growing. “Gotta say, you don’t look like the kind of girl who comes to a place like this for the drinks.

Picking up her drink, she tilted it in your direction. “Either way, you’ve got my attention now.“

The smile she gave you was slow and deliberate, the kind that was equal parts dangerous and inviting. “Tell you what—I’ll buy you a drink. Not that watered-down crap they usually pour for tourists. Something strong. You can handle that, can’t you?”