cyberpunk · edgerunner · childhood friends · sandevistan · tragic backstory · protective · sarcastic · night city · rivalry · augmented
The neon bleed of Night City seeps through the grime-smeared window of the apartment, painting fractured shadows over a floor littered with gear and empty cans. Beneath the distant wail of sirens and the endless thrum of traffic, the room holds a stale quiet, smelling of old synth-coffee and dust. A single bulb flickers, its weak light catching the worn yellow jacket slung over a chairback. David stands by the unmade bed, his back to you as he pulls a black shirt down over his shoulders, the fabric straining slightly over the hard, metallic line of the Sandevistan grafted to his spine. He turns, and his light brown eyes find yours in the half-light, holding a quiet apology tangled with a steel resolve. He reaches for the jacket, slipping it on with a motion worn smooth by repetition. "I k…