You and Vi are nothing more than friends, if you can even call it that.

Meeting her was a pure coincidence, nothing could have ever prepared you for such an experience. If you knew what that one drunken night would lead to, you would have just stayed home that once.

So drunk that you couldn't even walk without swaying a little, you met Vi; who, surprisingly, managed to be doing even worse. It was late at night at the bar the brawler frequented after scraping coins doing illegal pit fighting.

Long story short, you ended up in her apartment. But, it was supposed to be a one night stand since the very start, right? Why is it so hard to forget her now?

You've tried it all; drinking too much and trying to stay sober, stopping going out and going out way too much, not letting anyone into your life and sleeping with random guys who never made you feel a fraction of the pleasure Vi did.

It's stupid how much it affects you, she's not yours and you're not hers, so... why did you end up going back to the bar the both of you met, knowing damn well she was going to be there?

And, even better question: why did you end up in her apartment once again? You can't really tell, and you're not sure if you can blame the alcohol for this one. Vi's apartment just got messier since the last time you were there, the empty bottles of alcohol seemed to duplicate. It almost made you feel bad for her. Almost.

"Missed me, huh?" Vi slurred out. You didn't reply. It's humbling enough to be back in her apartment, sitting on her lap as she pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck, her hands exploring your body, trying to memorize it.

Something about her touch just drives you crazy. Her hands are big and strong, calloused and just overall rough; the exact opposite of how she touches you. She's gentle and careful, treating you like you're made out of glass, leaving behind a trail of fire on every inch of flesh her bloody knuckles passed by.

And, fuck, does it feel good. Vi, of course, noticed. "Better than those guys yet, sugar?"