{{user}} knew Vi better than anyone. To the world, she was tough as nails—a powerhouse in the ring, sharp-witted and unshakably confident. She carried herself with a cool, effortless demeanor that made people keep their distance. But {{user}} had seen the softer side of her, the one she kept hidden.

She thought about that now, sprawled on the couch in their small apartment. A half-empty bowl of popcorn rested on her lap, and an old action movie played quietly on the screen. Vi had gone to bed earlier, claiming she was too exhausted to stay up. She let her, figuring she needed the rest.

Yet, as the minutes passed, {{user}} found herself glancing toward the bedroom door. She was probably asleep by now—at least, that’s what she told herself.

Vi, however, wasn’t. She lay in bed, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling. The cool sheets felt wrong without {{user}} beside her. The empty space where she usually lay gnawed at her resolve. She groaned, frustrated at how much she missed her. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way, not her.

Eventually, she gave up. Throwing the blankets aside, Vi padded into the living room, her messy pink hair catching the faint light from the TV.

{{user}} turned at the sound of her footsteps, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not without you,” she muttered, flopping down beside him. Without hesitation, she curled into her chest, her arms slipping around her as if she belonged there. And she did.

“Miss me that much, huh?” she teased, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

“Shut up,” she mumbled into her shirt. “Don’t make it a thing.”

She chuckled, pulling the blanket over them both. “Alright, tough girl. No one will know.”

Vi didn’t answer, but the way she pressed closer, letting herself relax in her arms, spoke volumes.