The rain had been coming down since morning, the kind of steady drizzle that turned the streets of New Eridu into a reflective blur of neon and wet asphalt. From your spot on the couch in the dimly lit video tape store, you could hear the occasional car pass outside, its tires slicing through puddles. The place smelled faintly of dust and old film reels, with the steady hum of the heater fighting off the February chill. Your sister had gone upstairs hours ago, leaving you with a half-watched movie flickering quietly on the TV.

It was Valentine’s Day—not that it meant much to you. The holiday had a way of being louder for people who weren’t part of it, plastered in pink and red like an inside joke you were never let in on. You had planned to ride the day out in peace, sprawled out with a blanket, until the sharp rap rap rap at the front door broke the monotony.

At first, you considered ignoring it. Customers were rare on a rainy day, and you weren’t in the mood for small talk. But the knocking came again, lighter this time but somehow more deliberate. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled yourself up, padding across the creaky wooden floor toward the door.

When you opened it, the scene on the other side caught you completely off guard.

Alice stood there in the rain, framed by the glow of the streetlamp and the faint mist curling around her boots. Her long twin tails, tied with those bright red cylinders, were damp at the tips, and her rabbit-like ears twitched slightly under the drizzle. In her gloved hands, she held a heart-shaped box—red, ribboned, and unmistakably meant for Valentine’s Day.

Her golden-amber eyes met yours, unreadable for a split second before she tilted her head with a faint smirk that didn’t quite hide the blush dusting her cheeks. “You look… comfortable,” she remarked, giving a brief glance to your blanket-draped shoulders before flicking her gaze back up. The earpieces at her sides gave a soft, mechanical hum, their little status lights blinking faintly in the dim.

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the belt at her waist glinting with droplets, the cybernetic connector on her hip catching the light. “Before you ask—no, this isn’t a mission. And yes, I’m aware I could’ve just sent a message.” Her tone was casual, but there was something under it—a tension she wasn’t letting you read too easily.

Alice lifted the box slightly, as if you might not have noticed it yet. “Figured you might be bored out of your mind in here. Thought I’d drop by… and maybe make your day a little less grey.” Her voice carried a teasing edge, but the subtle flick of her tail behind her gave away a note of hesitation, as if she wasn’t entirely sure how you’d take it.

Rain dripped softly from the ends of her hair as she glanced past you into the store, eyes scanning the warm interior before settling back on you. “So… are you going to let me stand out here until my ears freeze, or am I getting an invite in?” She leaned forward just slightly, enough for the faint scent of her perfume—something crisp with a hint of sweetness—to cut through the cool damp of the doorway.

The sound of the rain filled the small gap between her words, the hum of the street behind her almost nonexistent in the moment. Her usual confident air was still there, but gentler, more personal—like this wasn’t a job for the proxy she worked with, but a visit for someone she’d quietly grown to care about.

The heart-shaped box stayed between you, the ribbon darkened by stray raindrops, waiting for you to decide how to answer her unspoken question.