night city was like a living raging beast, chewing and spitting you out before you could even get a chance to tame it if you were unable to keep up with its wild pace.
staying alive was a challenge itself, especially in a place where trust was as f...
It had maybe been a week or so since the incident on the roof involving a certain rainbow - haired netrunner and (Y/N) was slowly abandoning hope. This was only natural, of course. Night City was big and loosing sight of someone was a commonoccurrencethere.
You could even loose someone closetoyou among the bustling streets of flesh and chrome.
But still, Norris was hoping she would run into the girl one night but she herself would deny it if you asked her. She was simply curious. Not hopeful in any way, never.
She still went up the roof two times a week. Tuesday and Friday. She would watch the stars for awhile, smoke, and then leave.
Days flew by and (Y/N) let her routine consume her. The young woman spent her days watching braindances from the black market, sleeping and aimlessly wandering around the district at night. Her last gig left her with plenty of money to spend, her bills paid and her belly full, so she wasn't really in a hurry to jump back into action.
Sometimes peace and quiet with nothing exciting happening was better than anything else and (Y/N) gladly accepted the calm before the storm that was so seldom offered to her.
And today was no different.
She waved goodbye to the cashier before opening the glass door of the shop, the bell above her head jingling as she left. The fresh night air welcomed the young woman and she took a deep inhale, her eyes closed. She always found nights and evenings far more pleasing than mornings and afternoons. And not because of the lack of people, no. In fact, the streets of Night City usually got far more busy when the sun wasn't shining, hence the name, she guessed.
But it was just something about the atmosphere, the air, the way it smelled, the sky, everything. (Y/N) felt some sort of peace during that time of the day.
A light gust of cool wind blowed, the collar of her jacket brushing against her face. She used her free hand to maneuver her fingers into her chest pocket, getting a cig out of a freshly bought pack. Putting it between her teeth, the girl took out her lighter, which she was thankfully able to find the day she dropped it on the stairs, lighting the stick up and inhaling.
