The Zaun night was unusually calm, a rarity in the chaos that usually enveloped the Undercity. The muffled hum of machinery and distant loud shouts were the only remains of the usual noise. Within the apartment it was a different world, warm and cozy with the soft light of a lamp pooling in golden patches across the room.
You were curled up on the couch with a well-worn book, its pages slightly frayed at the edges from countless readings. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint scent of oil from Sevika’s arm drifting in from the kitchen.
“Still not done with those reports?” you called out casually flipping a page without looking up.
“Almost” came Sevika’s gruff response, followed by a soft clink of her mechanical arm.
You smirked. Ever since Silco’s death Sevika had taken it upon herself to keep Zaun from spiraling into further chaos. She might not have wanted the responsibility but her loyalty to her home was undeniable even if she grumbled about the endless paperwork and meetings.
A moment later you heard her footsteps as she strode into the living room with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. She dropped the documents onto the desk with a heavy sigh, the chair groaning under her weight as she sat down.
You glanced up from your book just in time to see her reach into her pocket and pull out a slim leather case.
Oh, yes!
There they were.
The dreaded reading glasses that she hated but you loved.
You hid a smile as Sevika unfolded the delicate frames and perched them on her nose, clearly hesitant at first. It had been months since she’d admitted to needing them. Squinting at tiny text during late night sessions had become more of a struggle than she’d care to admit. Still, she hated wearing them and claiming they made her look “ridiculous.”
You thought quite the opposite.
“Looking sharp” you teased, your grin barely contained.
Sevika shot you a sharp glare over the rim of her glasses. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You’re thinking it” she retorted, her voice dripping with mock accusation.
“Am I that obvious?” you quipped and placed a bookmark in your novel while sitting up to face her properly.
“Don’t test me” Sevika warned, her tone firm but lacking any real bite.
Your grin widened. “You know, Sev you look kind of adorable with those.”
“Adorable?” she repeated, deadpan. Her voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl. “Don’t call me that.”
“But it’s true” you countered with a chuckle and leaned back against the couch. “You’re all tough and intimidating, and then you put on those glasses and boom, adorable.”
Sevika’s eyes narrowed behind the lenses and her irritation plain as day. “Keep it up and see what happens” she muttered, turning her attention back to the papers in front of her.
You could see the faintest hint of pink dusting her cheeks and the sight made your chest ache with affection. For all her gruffness, Sevika had her moments of vulnerability even if she did her best to bury them beneath her tough exterior.
By the time Sevika finally finished her work the apartment had grown quiet, the only light coming from the lamp by the bed. You were already tucked under the blankets and your eyes heavy with sleep but still open enough to watch her as she entered the room.
Her glasses were still perched on her nose slightly crooked, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Done for the night?” you asked with your voice soft with exhaustion.
“Yeah” she said pulling off the glasses and setting them carefully on the nightstand.
You patted the empty space beside you. “Come on, tough girl. You’ve earned it.”
With a low chuckle Sevika slid into bed, her arm immediately slipping around your waist to pull you close.
As you rested your head on her chest the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath your ear was enough to settle you and your body relaxing fully into hers. Her hand naturally drifted to your back, her fingertips beginning their usual absent-minded habit of tracing patterns across your skin.
The sensation was light and rhythmic almost hypnotic as if she were drawing invisible shapes only she could see. It was a habit of hers, one she’d never mentioned but that you’d come to cherish. At first she hadn’t even realized she was doing it, brushing her fingertips over you in idle thought. But now it was deliberate, it was her way of grounding herself, of confirming that you were still there after everything.
“You know” you murmured sleepily “that thing you do with your hand? It’s nice.”
“What thing?” she asked, her voice rumbling through her chest.
“The tracing” you said, nuzzling closer into her. “It’s soothing.”
She was quiet for a moment, her hand pausing briefly before resuming its lazy movements. “Didn’t realize it mattered.”
“It does” you said softly, closing your eyes. “Makes me feel safe.”
Her arm tightened around you, and you felt the faintest press of her lips against the top of your head.
“You’re something else,” she muttered, the words carrying an affection she rarely voiced.
“So are you” you whispered back, too tired to tease her further.
Sevika didn’t respond but her hand continued its gentle path over your back lulling you closer to sleep. She kept at it even as her own breathing began to even out, her body relaxing against yours.
For Sevika, it was grounding in a way she didn’t fully understand. Feeling you there, solid and warm in her arms helped her let go of the weight she carried every day. And for you it was a reminder of how much she cared, even if she wasn’t always good at saying it out loud.
Eventually the quiet rhythm of her touch and the steady rise and fall of her chest pulled you into a deep peaceful sleep.
Sevika too found peace in the moment, her mind finally quieting as she traced invisible patterns until her hand stilled and sleep took her.
And in the soft glow of the bedside lamp the two of you stayed entwined, a perfect picture of the quiet intimacy that defined your love for each other (and her glasses ofc)