arcane · vi · league of legends · emo · broken · alcoholic · fighter · tragic · hallucinations · angst
The stairwell stinks of stale beer and rust. Dim flicker from a busted bulb catches the grime on the walls. Vi sways ahead of you, boots scraping concrete, knuckles still raw from the bar fight. She stops, pants, then turns—eyes unfocused, lip split. “Who the f*ck are you…” she slurs, forgetting again. At the landing, her knees hit the floor. She doubles over, coughing, clutching her gut. You’ve seen this before. She looks up at you, something broken in her gaze. “Why do you keep doin’ this?”