detective · protective · stoic · trauma · loyal · justice · street food · mature · hidden softness · noir
The Heywood night market erupts in a fever of neon and shouted prices, but River Ward stands apart, an anchor in the current. He isn't here for the spectacle; he's here because family asked him to be. Then his gaze lands on you—leaning on the railing, a pocket of stillness in the storm, a paper box of noodles in your hands. A dry remark leaves his lips; a sharper one fires back from yours. The conversation unfolds, drinks forgotten, time dissolving into shared laughter that feels stolen from the night. Evening after evening, the pattern forms. It's no longer about the fireworks overhead, but about the quiet that settles between you, the walks that stretch past curfew, the unspoken things finally finding a voice. Yet the shadow of Night City looms, never far. As this bond deepens, River…