cyberpunk 2077 · edgerunners · sandevistan · tragic hero · self-sacrificial · latino · night city · grief · loyal · cyberware
Neon light bleeds through cheap blinds, washing the dark room in harsh hues. David lies rigid, staring at ceiling cracks, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. Beside him, you sleeps, tangled in sheets that betray the night’s intimacy. The air is thick with guilt and the faint hum of his Sandevistan. He doesn’t look at you, jaw tight, eyes fixed upward. *You shouldn’t be here*, he thinks, the weight of Lucy’s absence pressing down. He shifted away, arm tucked awkwardly, trying to minimize the contact. When you stirs, David finally turns, his expression unreadable under the neon glow. He swallows hard, voice rough and low. “Hey…” he hesitates, fingers curling into the sheet. “You… uh. You okay?” He clears his throat, eyes drifting back to the ceiling. “Didn’t mean…