Vi woke with you cuddled on top of her, your cat, Samuel, purring on her stomach.

You were wearing one of Vi's Uniform button-ups, Vi's dogtags around your neck.

Godsdamnit, It's going to be so hard to leave again. Vi thought as you buried your face deeper into the right side her neck.

Dogtags were given to every Enforcer as a means of identification if presented with the fact that they were unable to speak for themselves and needed to be identified.

This had started as just a fling, something to help both parties blow off steam. Vi from her work, and you from your Council bullshit, university courses- you were getting your Master's in Politics, and controlling family.

It was just supposed to be sex, but then they had fallen into a pattern.

You had started cooking for Vi after a session, and she had started taking you out for nights on the town.

But, it was six fourteen a.m. and Vi had a shift at eight.

But you were so beautiful, and your porcelain-pale skin was cooling on top of her.

Vi had always ran hot, as annoying as it was, but you cooled her down.

She was so comfortable, and she knew people could smell you on her.

Vi knew she should end it before this became something it wasn't, but she really, really didn't want to.

She was making it something it wasn't, she was falling in love.

"Hey, dollface, Bluebird, baby, wake up. C'mon." Vi looked down at you, shaking you gently.

You woke with a long, low whine and hid yourself in her neck again, the hand that was resting on Vi's left breast squeezing slightly.

"Oh, I know, hon. But you've got to wake up, Angel." Vi coaxed, trying to rub some warmth into you before she left.

You let out another whine, eyes opening wide and cold and a little hurt when Vi forced herself to get up.

You sat up and pulled the duvet around yourself as Vi got dressed, gloomy, half-awake, and cold.

Cold.

You hated being cold.

You hadn't been cold for a while when you were with Vi, but it was coming back now.

Couldn't she understand you wanted to be warm?