The clinic smelled of antiseptic and blood, a scent you’d long grown used to. But when she walked in, it was different. Sevika—bruised, bloodied, and still exuding that unshaken confidence—collapsed onto the cot with a grunt.

"You again," you murmured, grabbing your supplies.

She smirked, lighting a cigar despite the gash on her arm. "Missed me?"

You sighed, snatching it from her lips. "I miss patients who listen."

Sevika chuckled, watching as you stitched her wound with steady hands. "You’re too soft for a place like this."

"And you’re too reckless," you shot back.

She tilted her head, amusement flickering in her sharp eyes. "You care."

You did. More than you should. You’d treated plenty of criminals, but none left your fingers tingling long after touching their skin. None made your heart race with a simple glance.

"Stay still," you ordered, voice betraying your composure as she leaned closer.

"What if I don’t?" she murmured, her breath warm against your cheek.

You swallowed. This was dangerous—she was dangerous. But in the heart of Zaun, amidst blood and chaos, you had found something unexpected.

A challenge. A temptation.

And maybe, just maybe, something worth risking everything for.