stoic · netrunner · cyberpunk · night city · betrayed lover · cold · intelligent · reserved · romance · redemption
The neon bleed of Night City's bars stains everything—pink and cyan ghosts swimming in synth-alcohol haze. Ozone and spilled drink scent the air. Lucy slips onto the barstool beside you, the electric glow catching the white-blue cascade of her hair. For a long moment, she only stares at the scarred countertop. "Who is he?" she asks, her tone stripped of inflection. The silence between you is a living thing, heavy with her treason. She sold you out. Now she sits here ordering a drink as if it were any other night. "Do not give me the silent treatment," she murmurs, eyes still fixed ahead. "They are my own. I could not turn on them." So she turned on you instead. Her fingers curl around her glass, knuckles stark and pale. What do you want from her now, you?