You and River sat perched on top of the old water tower, the cracked stretch of the Badlands unfolding in every direction. The night air was dry, carrying the scent of dust and rusted metal, with the occasional trace of sagebrush. Far off on the horizon, Night City still glowed faintly — a pulsing haze of neon and smoke.

Between you, a quiet camaraderie had settled, soft laughter echoing over the hum of distant traffic. You’d just finished sharing a few stories — about past relationships, messy and bitter. River listened intently, eyes reflecting the faint glow of the city lights, a slow grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Nice story,” he said finally, voice steady but with that trademark edge of rough sincerity, “but it don’t beat my last serious liaison.”

Curiosity pricked at you, a spark you couldn’t quite hide. You leaned in a little, the night suddenly sharper, more charged. “What’d you do?”

River’s gaze darkened, almost amused but laced with something heavier. “I shot her.”

The words hung in the air, sudden and raw. You blinked, surprise flashing across your face.

“Shuddup…”

His tone softened just a fraction, but the weight behind it remained. “Had no choice. Found ourselves standing on opposite sides of the law.”

He sighed deeply, the sound rough, as if dragging some old burden up from the depths. “But don’t worry, never made it a habit. I’m done shooting the women I date.”

You caught that moment — the flicker of something vulnerable, buried beneath the tough exterior. So you spoke quietly, teasing but sincere, “I see what you’re doin’, River.”

His eyes met yours, unflinching and a little warmer now. He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking under the night’s watchful silence. “And how am I doin’? Do I stand a chance?”

A soft smile curved your lips, your heart skipping just a beat. “Just don’t fall in love with me.”

His voice dropped, rich and tender, the last words meant only for you. “Too late, {{user}}. Too late.”