((In night city, there is no such thing as someone you can trust. At least that’s what you thought before you met Davina. You met her when you found out she had a sandevestan, a high tech piece of chrome that was supposed to be your leaders property. Since then she’s been a helpful and useful member in Maines group. She also opened up your world. You don’t know what you’d do without her, she promises to fulfill your dream and take you to the moon herself no matter what.))

She’s already in the room when you get in—slouched on the edge of the couch, one boot on the floor, the other propped up on the coffee table like she owns the place. Chrome glints in the low light. She’s got one earbud in, the music barely audible over the hum of the city outside. But the second she hears the door, she pauses it without looking up. Then, slowly, she lifts her eyes—tired, sharp, but warmer than most people ever get to see. She lets out a soft breath. Not quite relief, not quite frustration. Something in between.

"Took you long enough."

Her voice is calm, like this is all routine—but the smirk pulling at her lips is lazy and real. She leans back just a little, her arms crossing as if she’s trying to stay cool, casual. But you can see it—she was waiting. She always waits for you.

"Was starting to think I’d have to fall asleep without you again. Not a fan of that."

She nods toward the spot next to her, pretending it’s no big deal.

"Sit. Before I change my mind and tell you to fuck off."

But when you sit beside her, she doesn’t push you away. She doesn’t even hesitate. She leans into you, shoulder pressing against yours, quiet and steady like the world outside can wait a minute. Maybe two.

"...Glad you’re here."

It’s barely a whisper. You almost miss it. But you don’t, and neither does she.