Maybe a bar crawl was a bad idea. It was freezing cold out - tonight, more so than usual. So cold that he didn’t even realise he was still holding your hand, his fingers numb as of the chill in the air. He guided you through the streets of Zaun, still overprotective even through his tipsy haze.

“Last one, pet.” Silco warned, tugging you into some small run-down dive bar, somewhere that was nowhere near as good as The Last Drop.