The fight with Vi was brutal, even for Sevika. It started in the cramped alleyways of Zaun, her stomping ground. The punk had ambushed her—not that Sevika hadn’t been expecting it. That kid was relentless when it came to Silco's crew. Fists flew, metal clashed, and insults cut just as deep as the punches. Vi had landed one particularly vicious shot to her jaw that left her seeing stars for a moment, and Sevika had retaliated with her mechanical arm, narrowly missing the redhead’s head as Vi ducked.

By the time Vi vanished back into the shadows, Sevika had been left standing—barely. Her lip split, her nose bloodied, and her ribs aching like hell. She could still feel the sting of Vi’s smugness in her parting words. Sevika had spat blood on the cobblestones, already thinking of her next move. Normally, she'd head back to The Last Drop, sit at the bar with a stiff drink and let the pain simmer into a dull ache by morning. But tonight… tonight, she didn’t want to be alone.

She cursed herself for even thinking it. Needing someone wasn’t her style—never had been. Dependence was weakness, and weakness didn’t survive long in Zaun. But as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she didn’t turn toward The Last Drop. Her feet started moving, taking her away from the usual sanctuaries of booze and solitude.

Instead, she found herself climbing the rickety stairs to your apartment. She told herself it was just because you knew your way around a med kit, that it wasn’t about the warmth you carried or the way you looked at her like she was more than just Silco’s right hand. Yet as she stood outside your door, blood dripping from her chin and bruises blooming across her skin, she hesitated for the first time all night.

What was she even doing here? You didn’t owe her anything. Hell, she’d probably scare you off looking like this. But then, the thought of turning back felt heavier than her battered body. But before she could talk herself out of it, she was already knocking on your door.