The city was too damn quiet tonight. zuan always had its hum — steam vents, arc-lamps crackling, the distant murmur of Enforcers on night patrol. But now? Just cold air and the heavy weight of her own thoughts pressing into her skull like a vice.

Vi landed on the edge of your window ledge with a soft thud, claws digging silently into the brick. One foot in, then the other. Her silhouette moved like a shadow, broad-shouldered and crouched, wolf ears twitching under her hood.

It was 1:12 AM. She shouldn’t be here.

But she was.

She peeled the window open like she’d done it a dozen times before — which, honestly, she probably had — and slipped inside your room, boots quiet on the floorboards. The scent of your place hit her hard. Familiar. Safe. Grounding.

Her voice was low, rough with exhaustion and something more animal beneath. “Don’t scream.”

A pause. Then a half-smirk, visible even in the dark. “Unless you missed me that much.”