Sevika X F!reader - Blog Posts

𝑴𝑨𝑴𝑨 || 𝟎𝟎

𝘏𝘖𝘞 𝘐𝘛 𝘊𝘈𝘔𝘌 𝘛𝘖 𝘉𝘌

𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓𝘍𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘕𝘋!𝘚𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈 𝘟 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘎𝘌𝘙!𝘔𝘊

𝘊𝘞: 𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘚𝘛, 𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘋 𝘕𝘌𝘎𝘓𝘌𝘊𝘛, 𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘗𝘐𝘛𝘈𝘓 𝘝𝘐𝘚𝘐𝘛𝘚, 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘚𝘛, 𝘐𝘕𝘈𝘊𝘊𝘜𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘓𝘌𝘎𝘈𝘓 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘔𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘓 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘊𝘌𝘚𝘚𝘌𝘚, 𝘚𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈 𝘐𝘚 35, 𝘔𝘊 𝘐𝘚 26, 𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈'𝘚 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘚𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘊 𝘐𝘚𝘕'𝘛 𝘈𝘚 𝘊𝘖𝘖𝘓 𝘈𝘚 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘕

𝘞𝘊: 1,739

𝘔.𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

around nine o’clock, she woke up from an impromptu nap. the first thing she did was check her phone. there wasn’t much but a text from her sister two hours ago.

hey, can you come over when you’re free and watch noah for me? i’m going out for the night.

she tried calling her sister to see if she still needed to come over but got no response.

odd.

ten minutes later, she was out the door. promptly sending her girlfriend a text letting her know she probably wouldn’t be home until morning, she set off to see her nephew.

the drive was short. the whole way there, she wondered why her sister didn’t answer the phone. had she already left? if so, did she have someone else to watch noah? if she did, why didn’t she say something?

as she pulled onto her sister’s street, she was able to see the police cars and the ambulance in her sister’s driveway.

as she came to an abrupt stop in front of her sister’s house, she all but jumped out of her car and ran towards the paramedic carrying her crying nephew.

noah spotted his aunt from where he cried in the man’s arms, his own reached out for her.

the paramedics turned to her as she approached them, stretching an arm out to prevent her from getting any closer.

“are you his mother?” one of them asked.

she had to talk over the crying boy she desperately wanted to console. she explained that she was his aunt, and that her sister had asked her a few hours to come over to watch him, but she was asleep and unable to see the message.

“we’ve been trying to calm him down so he could talk to us, but he’s been inconsolable.”

“he doesn’t talk much anyways. my sister was supposed to ask if he’s having, ya know, developmental problems, but she keeps pushing the appointment back. what’s wrong? where are you taking him?”

“he’s dehydrated, likely underfed, lord knows what else. we need to get him to the hospital.”

her heart dropped as she climbed onto the gurney, arms reached out to take hold of her nephew. once he was in her arms, he gripped onto her shirt tightly and continued to cry in her ear.

“oh, i know, baby. you must be so scared. everything’s gonna be okay, i promise. where’s your mama, huh?”

sevika looked down at her phone as it rang.

22:47

Honey

she put down the cloth she was using to clean her prosthetic and picked up her phone to answer the incoming call.

“hello?”

“hey, you home?”

sevika could hear the upset in her lover’s voice, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“yep. sitting here, missing you. you okay?”

there was a beat of silence before sniffles came from the other end of the line.

“what’s wrong, baby? are you hurt? is noah?”

“it’s noah… they- they’re keeping him overnight, vika.”

“who, honey?”

“the hospital. the hospital’s keeping him and i don’t know where the hell my sister is and i don’t have anything! he doesn’t have his blanket, or- or his rat, or his pacifier! and he’s been so upset so i can’t leave him by himself-”

“what do you need me to do?” sevika, as she moved to put shoes on, spoke with a firm voice. it wasn’t too often that her girlfriend needed a rock to lean on, but on the occasion that she did, sevika always came through.

“um, could you go to my sister’s and get some of his things? i don’t know if police are still there, but i don’t want you to have to come here to get my keys and then go there just to come back here.”

“you don’t need to worry about that. i’ll take care of everything. you just sit tight with noah, okay?”

“i appreciate you so much, vika. thank you.”

“no need. you know i’m always here for anything you need. just make sure you take care of yourself for me.”

“i will. i love you so much, sevika.”

“love you too, honey.”

it was well after midnight when sevika walked into the hospital room after getting some of noah’s things. the halls were mostly empty as she walked through the pediatric unit with one of her duffle bags over her left shoulder and noah’s diaper bag on her right.

as she quietly entered noah’s room, her eyes naturally shifted to the bed where the boy and his aunt laid sleeping.

sevika walked through the room, sitting the bags at the foot of the bed before moving the chair near the window. as she slouched into it, she heard movement coming from the bed.

“you’re back.”

the woman laying down spoke softly, her voice raspy with emotion.

“yeah. i got his blanket, a few pair of pajamas, some soft pants, a couple t-shirts, some socks. grabbed a few pacifiers, too.”

“what about-“

“yes, i got the funny looking rat. i don’t know why he loves that thing so much,” sevika mumbled the last bit to herself. a laugh sounded from the other side of the room.

“because you got it for him, sevi. and he loves everything that has to do with you.”

“yeah, yeah.”

sevika watched as her girlfriend ran her fingers through the curls on noah’s head. there was so much love and concern in her eyes as she looked down at her nephew.

“how is he?” sevika asked gently. it took a before she got a response.

“as well as he can be. this is the longest he’s been asleep. he keeps waking up upset about the iv. kept trying to take it out, and then he’d cry when i wouldn’t let him. i felt so bad.”

“you shouldn’t feel bad about that, honey. he needs the iv,” sevika tried to offer comfort.

“ya know the doctors said there was absolutely no food in his stomach? and- and the police said the neighbor told them she hadn’t seen my sister in days. multiple. she just left home by himself. a two year old, vika. i just talked to her yesterday! how could he be completely alone, helpless for days and his mom isn’t somewhere dead? i’m literally a phone call, a text, a fucking email away! he’s- he’s just a baby.”

sevika stood from her seated position and moved to console the woman who’d began to tear up.

“we’re gonna make sure he’s okay, honey, i promise. and when we find your sister, we’re gonna get some answers.”

it was on day two of noah’s hospital stay that two police officers and a social worker showed up to the boy’s room.

the policemen to let the women know noah’s mom had been found (in a restaurant trash enclosure of all places) and was being charged with child neglect, child abuse, and drug possession.

the social worker to tell them noah was officially a ward of the state as his mother was unfit and his father was unwilling.

“so what do we need to do?”

“well, seeing as he has family nearby, we usually check to see if there’s someone willing and appropriate to be the legal guardian before-”

“yes. yes, i’m willing. whatever i need to do, i’ll do it.”

after ten days in the hospital, noah was discharged. sevika got the boy changed out of his hospital attire and into some of the clothes she packed for him.

as they exited the hospital, sevika noticed how quiet her partner was. it wasn’t until they reached their apartment that she found out why.

“talk to me, mama. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“… you know that evaluation they did on him?”

the pair were perched on the couch. noah sat on the floor in front of them gripping his blanket firmly in one hand, his stuffed rat in the other.

“yeah. all the tests and shit. what about it?”

“well… i looked at the paperwork today…”

“what’d it say?”

the woman sighed heavily before continuing.

“well for starters, he was born prematurely with neonatal abstinence syndrome and fetal alcohol sydrome. they think that’s why his development is so off. they also think he’s gonna develop some kind of anxiety after all this and suggest some kind of animal companion.”

“what, like a service dog?” sevika questioned. if it was what’s best for the little guy, she’d do it. but the thought of a mut tearing all her furniture up was not a happy one. her girlfriend nodded.

“hm. okay. i’ll look into it. now what else is there? because i can see it in your face; there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“… nonverbal autism.”

sevika was speechless for a minute.

“they think he might have it?” her voice was low as she asked the question.

“they know he has it. vika, how could he have been suffering all this time and i didn’t know?”

sevika brought the woman closer with her right arm as her emotions welled up.

“none of this is on you in any way, alright? up until now, you didn’t have any legal obligation to know any of this stuff. now that we know, we’ll make sure he’s taken care of. he’ll be okay.”

as if the boy new they were talking about him, noah turned around and looked at the adults on the couch. his eyes were wide and the pacifier in his mouth bobbed up and down as he suckled on it.

his aunt smiled softly as she reached down to lift him up and place him in her lap.

“what are you looking at, huh, baby?” she smiled at the little boy in her arms. instead of verbally responding, noah cocked his head to side ever so slightly and laughed at her. her smile widened.

sevika watched the interaction take place before leaning in and pressing her lips to the side of her lover’s temple. a pressure on her prosthetic pointer finger pulled her attention away.

she watched as noah squeezed the metal appendage and only intervened when he took out his pacifier and moved to replace it with the finger in his hand.

“that’s gonna be a no, little man,” sevika gently pulled her hand from him. the boy pouted at her in return and laid down on his aunt’s chest.

yeah. he’s gonna be just fine.

𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘗 𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈'𝘚 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓𝘍𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘕𝘋. 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘶𝘴𝘦 "𝘺𝘰𝘶" 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦 "𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺?" 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦? 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬? 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘢𝘩. 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘣𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪 (≧∇≦)/

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢

fanfic is crazy af, so you’re telling me Sevika’s really a character from Arcane and not some hot cowboy who falls for me? like, I’m just a city girl running away to the country for who-knows-what, and suddenly we’re rivals, there’s all this tension, and then we end up loving (and loving on) each other till sunrise.

Silvia

word count: 1.3k

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day in my country, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your first Mother’s Day as Sevika’s wife. The smell of coffee and freshly baked bread wakes you before your daughter’s cries do, which is unusual. The little one has had a set routine since she was born: she wakes up early for you to feed her, then goes back to sleep until she’s hungry again. You blink slowly, your body heavy with the accumulated exhaustion of interrupted nights, and reach out to the side of the bed where Sevika sleeps, only to find her gone, which makes you frown, though the aroma in the air tells you exactly where she is.

When you finally sit up in bed, you see her coming into the room with a tray in her hands. This time, her expression isn’t tough at all; it’s a strange mix of pride and shyness. Her steps are heavy but careful, her breathing deep and controlled, trying to be as quiet as possible so she doesn’t wake you. She’s so focused on not making a sound that she doesn’t notice your eyes are already open, watching her with a sweet smile.

“Good morning, beautiful,” she says when she finally looks up, her voice low and husky, as if she’s afraid to break the moment. “Happy first Mother’s Day.”

On the tray: golden toast, perfectly scrambled eggs, hot coffee, and a small plate of fruit. Next to it, a little black velvet box.

“Sevika…” you whisper, with a smile you didn’t even know you could make so early in the morning.

She sets the tray on your lap, sits at the edge of the bed, and opens the little box for you. Inside, there’s a silver necklace. On the pendant, a tiny inscription:

“The best of me, I share with you.”

You open the locket and see a tiny photo: you, Sevika, and Silvie, your daughter, on the couch. It was taken a few months ago, days after you were discharged from the hospital after giving birth. In the photo, the baby is resting in Sevika’s arms. She’s looking at the camera with a shy smile, as if she’s learning how to smile again after so long and, in a way, she is.

“I love you,” is all you can manage in that moment, you don’t know how to say more with so few words. “Happy first Mother’s Day to you too, love. Watching you be a mother is one of the greatest privileges of my life.”

Sevika, uncomfortable with so much affection all at once, clears her throat and leans in to kiss your forehead. Her hands reach for your face, holding it gently, caressing your cheeks as her lips travel slowly over your forehead, nose, chin, and finally end with a soft kiss on your lips. She doesn’t respond to your congratulations. Ever since you decided to have Silvie, Sevika has insisted that you’re the mother, after all, you carried her for nine months, you breastfeed her, and so on. You keep disagreeing, the girl has Sevika’s face, her gray eyes, thick black hair, and even though she’s only five months old, she already makes the same grumpy face as your wife. As she pulls away, Sevika hands you the coffee, as if that balances out the emotion of the moment.

“I have to go,” she murmurs, stroking your hair, trying to comb it gently with her fingers. “Get some rest, okay? I already fed the little one, so she won’t wake up for a while.”

Before you can answer, she keeps talking: “I know your mom is coming for lunch this afternoon, so relax. Breakfast is already done, and I doubt my lovely mother-in-law will let you cook. We both know she still thinks you’re too weak from giving birth, even though Silvie’s teeth are already starting to come in.”

You smile at her words and can’t help but sigh as you watch her leave for work, not without first giving the baby sleeping in the crib beside your bed a gentle kiss on the head. In the afternoon, the house is filled with Silvie’s laughter as she plays on your mother’s lap. Silvie babbles sweetly, responding to whatever her grandmother says as if she truly understands. You, on the other hand, are sitting in front of them, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers without even realizing it.

“Is something wrong, honey?” your mother asks, her eyes on you, and you recognize that look that cuts through silences.

You look up, your eyes shining.

“It’s Mother’s Day and I…” you pause. “I feel like I’m celebrating it alone.”

“Alone? But Silvie is with you, and Sevika too, right?”

“Yes, but Sevika doesn’t consider herself a mom,” you reply, lowering your gaze. “She says that since she didn’t carry her, since she didn’t give birth it’s not the same. That she just supported me. But… I see her with Silvie, she takes care of her, sings to her, changes her diaper and still, she doesn’t feel like she’s part of this.”

Your mother stays silent for a few seconds. Then she leans in and strokes your hand. “Do you know what your grandmother used to do when I didn’t feel like I fit in as a mother? She reminded me that being a mother isn’t just about giving birth. It’s about staying when things are hard, about loving unconditionally. Maybe your wife just needs someone to tell her that. For you to tell her.”

You purse your lips, thoughtful. “And what if she doesn’t believe me?”

“Then don’t just tell her. Make her feel it. Write her a letter, or give her something that carries the weight of what she means to you and to her daughter. Sometimes, what doesn’t go in through the ears goes straight to the heart.”

When Sevika comes home that night, she’s tired, her mechanical arm moving slower than usual. But when she walks in and sees the table decorated with flowers, a homemade dinner, and you holding Silvie in your arms, the tension in her shoulders melts away. After your conversation with your mother, you decided to do everything you could to make your wife understand how important she is to you and to your little girl. After making dinner, you dressed Silvie in a blue dress and did her hair in two little pigtails, which took forever, since she doesn’t like having her hair done. When you finished with her, you found a sundress in your closet that matched your daughter’s, putting in the effort to look nice for your wife.

“What’s all this?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“My Mother’s Day gift for you,” you reply, showing her a sheet of paper folded in thirds: a handwritten letter from you, with a tiny handprint from Silvie at the end. Sevika takes it, but doesn’t pay much attention for now. Her eyes are fixed on you, on your nervous smile, unsure how she’ll react to the surprise, on the way the dress highlights every part of your body she knows by heart. Without saying a word, she comes closer, her hands finding your hips and caressing them with a mix of tenderness and possessiveness, squeezing them lightly as she speaks:

“You look beautiful, love. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

You smile and lean in for a quick kiss on the lips. As you try to pull away, Sevika pulls you back and traps you in a more passionate kiss, her lips moving against yours with such need that you forget everything around you, until Silvie, seeing her moms sharing all the love between them, complains, whining and reaching out for Sevika to pick her up.

“Mama,” she demands, opening and closing her hands to get her other mom’s attention.

Sevika smiles and takes her from your arms, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Hey, princess, did you miss me?”

Silvie just smiles, her little hands reaching for Sevika’s face, touching her scar as if it’s a special game just for her. You let her catch up with her baby, but impatience eats at you.

“Open the letter,” you insist with a smile, unable to hold back any longer.

Sevika chuckles, finding your restlessness amusing. Then, with Silvie in her arms, she opens the letter, trying not to crumple it. She reads it in silence, says nothing for long seconds, but you see a small tear escape, betraying her. She wipes it away quickly. Then she lowers the letter and looks at you, her eyes shining, jaw tight as if holding herself together is her way of loving.

“Love,” she starts, but her voice breaks. She sighs, searching for a way to organize her feelings. “Are you too tired? I want to introduce you to someone very important to me. Let’s go see her, come with me.” Her words come out in a rush, almost unintelligible. You blink several times, trying to process what she just said.

“Go where?”

“To see her. My mother.”

Zaun’s cemetery rests hidden among smoking factories and poisoned canals. There are no flowers or prayers, just scraps of metal marking anonymous graves. It’s a chilling place, where the dead don’t rest, they simply stop getting in the way. But none of that bothers you, you’re focused on what’s happening right now: it’s the first time Sevika has ever spoken to you about her mother. The grave is simple, marked by a plaque worn down by time.

Sevika kneels. You stay close. Silvie rests in Sevika’s arms, and the baby seems to understand her mother’s pain, her sadness, because since Sevika picked her up at home, she hasn’t wanted to let go, lying on her shoulder, sucking her pacifier, eyes wide open, staring at the grave.

“She… was strong. Much stronger than me,” the words come out broken. “Mama.” Her voice cracks. Looking at her, you don’t see Sevika, the woman everyone fears, you see a little girl, defenseless, alone. “I never said goodbye. But if you can see me now, I know you’d understand why I’m fighting.”

She pauses for a long time, stroking the edge of the grave with her metal fingers, as if afraid to break it.

“This is my wife, Mom. She’s my family now,” she continues, pointing at you. “And this,” she adds, looking at Silvie, “is the beginning of something better.” Sevika smiles sadly. “She has your name, Mom—Silvia. But we call her Silvie, because she’s so little.”

You kneel beside her., taking her hand. You feel her tremble.

“Thank you for bringing me,” you whisper.

“Thank you for making me a mom,” Sevika replies, without looking at you. But she squeezes your hand as if she’ll never let go.

That night, under Zaun’s polluted sky, Sevika cries. You hold her. And Silvie, after spending the whole day with her mothers and grandmothers, sleeps. In that scarred corner of the world, something new is born. Something strong.

Something Sevika only knows from women like her mother. Like you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Don't cry, my love...

Sevika wasn’t the kind of person who showed many emotions. Since the moment you met her, her toughness had always been part of her charm—her firm, almost intimidating presence. But ever since the two of you started building a family, everything had changed, even if she tried to hide it at times.

It was a quiet afternoon at home. The soft light of sunset filtered through the curtains, bathing the living room in golden hues. The sound of your wife’s gentle laughter and the soft tapping of tiny feet filled the air. Your baby girl, Silvie, was only eight months old, but she was already beginning to show her personality, and like any baby at that stage, she was exploring her world.

Sevika was sitting on the couch, watching her daughter with a mix of tenderness and focus. She was used to the strength her job demanded, to the harshness of her daily routine, but that little smile—those bright, curious eyes of Silvie—had the power to make her melt like a piece of chocolate in the sun.

You, her wife, were in the kitchen, finishing up a snack for the family. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, but what truly caught your attention was the cheerful laughter of your baby and the soft words Sevika whispered as they played together on the couch. “Silvie, where’s your favorite toy?” Sevika said, lifting a small rattle with a smile. Silvie, with her big curious eyes, reached out for the toy, but something on the floor caught her attention instead—a small piece of metal, a screw that had fallen from somewhere and now dangerously lay within her reach.

It wasn’t the first time the little one grabbed something she shouldn’t have, and although Sevika was always vigilant, there was no way to prevent her daughter from getting curious about the wrong things from time to time. With swift movements, Sevika took the piece from the baby’s hands. “No, no, no, princess!” she said, her voice soft but firm, as she moved the screw out of reach. “That’s not for you, sweetheart.” Silvie, surprised by the sudden change, began to let out a soft cry, almost as if she didn’t understand what had just happened. But as soon as she realized something important had been taken away, her crying intensified, turning into an inconsolable wail.

Seeing the shift in her daughter’s expression, Sevika couldn’t help but blush, even though she tried to keep her composure. “Oh no, don’t cry, my love.” Her voice softened instantly. “It’s just because it’s dangerous, right?” She looked at her tenderly, trying to soothe her, but the baby kept crying, staring at the screw just out of reach.

“You’re going to make mama cry, huh?” she said with a soft laugh. Sevika blushed even more as she saw the child crying louder, tears running down her cheeks. From the kitchen, you heard the little sob and quickly approached, setting the cookies aside. Seeing the scene, your expression softened, and a tender smile appeared on your face. “What’s going on here?” you asked gently, coming closer to take Silvie into your arms.

Sevika, who had been trying to comfort her daughter, turned toward you with a mixture of desperation and love. “I’ll let you take her—she’s being a bit stubborn,” she said, passing the crying infant into your arms. “Shhh, it’s okay, my love,” you whispered, trying to soothe her.

But the baby didn’t want to calm down. She kept looking at Sevika with those big teary eyes. The woman who was once a pillar of strength now seemed helpless, her expression showing just how much it hurt to see her daughter so upset.

Sevika slowly walked toward you, still holding the metal piece in her hand, and leaned in to gently caress the baby’s cheek. But Silvie, still inconsolable, continued to cry. You watched them both, seeing how Sevika was trying to calm her despite not quite knowing how to handle these moments. The baby lifted her head from your shoulder, looked directly at her mother, and then, in a sudden wave of emotion, did something neither of you expected:

She pouted.

It was subtle at first, like she didn’t quite understand the importance of what she was doing, but when the corners of her mouth curved downward, Sevika froze. The baby’s eyes, full of pure innocence, looked at her as if asking for an explanation. In that moment, with that tiny pout, Sevika felt something she had never experienced before—a feeling of absolute vulnerability. The strength she had always carried seemed to dissolve in an instant. She looked at the baby, then at you, and everything inside her melted, as if the force of that small gesture could tear down any wall she had ever built.

“See? Look what you did,” you whispered with a tender smile, tinged with playful teasing. Sevika didn’t know how to react.

“What? I didn’t do anything…” she frowned, but without conviction. It was clear that, in that moment, she felt defeated by a simple pout.

The baby, seeing that Sevika wasn’t reacting as she hoped, began to cry again. Not loud crying, but soft, heartbreaking sobs. Sevika couldn’t hold back anymore, and with a sigh, she stepped closer to you, arms open for her daughter.

“Come on, baby,” she said, her voice rough but full of affection, “come to mama.” The baby, hearing the soft tone of her mother’s voice, stopped crying almost instantly, though the pout still lingered on her little face. Sevika held her in her arms, feeling her daughter cling to her as if nothing else in the world mattered.

In the distance, the living room clock marked the passing minutes, but for you, Sevika, and Silvie, those moments felt eternal—filled with tenderness, laughter, and a vast, immeasurable love. The baby had discovered, in the most innocent way, the power she held over both of you—the power of a simple pout that could bring even the strongest to their knees.

“You know what, love?” you said with a smile, looking at the baby in her arms. “I think our daughter just learned how to completely melt us.”

Sevika smiled, gently rocking the baby in her strong arms. Silvie was her exact replica—dark skin, thick black hair, gray eyes that could melt anyone’s heart, especially yours. Her face mirrored Sevika’s, but that innocent, pleading pout she’d now use to get what she wanted reminded Sevika of you. It made her smile sweetly, an unusual expression for her—but one Silvie had managed to draw out countless times since the day she was born. This was her daughter, a reflection of both of you and of the love you shared. The sum of so many good and bad moments, of sleepless nights and days when hope was the only thing you two had left. Silvie and you were her home, and Sevika would do anything to protect you.

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I’ll always be here...

The soft light from the apartment filtered through the curtains, creating a gentle, almost cozy atmosphere, as if the outside world had been left beyond its reach. The rain fell softly over the city, but in the small refuge where you lived with Sevika, only the sound of the water and the occasional tapping of a raindrop against the window accompanied the silence that had settled over the place.

Sevika sat at the edge of the bed, her face reflecting fatigue and frustration. The new mechanic arm, replacing the one she had lost, was still wrapped in bandages—a mix of cables and metal that didn’t quite feel like her own. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, but Sevika didn’t notice. She could only think about what had just happened.

You had finished your shift at "The Last Drop," and although the place was still bustling with activity, all you wanted now was to be with her. As you entered the apartment, you felt the weight of what had happened heavier than it appeared at first glance.

You approached her quietly and knelt in front of Sevika. Your eyes met, and for a moment, words weren’t needed. You gently stroked her face, noticing the tension in her jaw. Sevika pulled away slightly, as if the simple gesture of affection made her feel vulnerable. "How are you feeling?" you asked, your voice soft but full of concern.

She sighed, looking at her prosthetic arm, her expression full of irritation and rejection. "I can’t stand it... It’s not the same. I don’t know how to do things with this. Everything feels... clumsy." Sevika's usually harsh tone sounded more broken than usual.

You sat beside her, drawing closer, wrapping an arm around her waist in a gesture of comfort. "You don’t have to do it all alone, Sevika. I’m here." You whispered, your hand slowly tracing her back, trying to calm her.

Sevika closed her eyes, feeling a wave of emotion she couldn’t contain. It was hard for her—not just losing something so vital, but also depending on someone. Her image of strength had always been built on her independence. Now, she was at a point where even the simplest tasks, like showering or getting dressed, felt like challenges.

"I don’t want you to see me like this... I need to be strong, like always..." her voice cracked, a slight tremor betraying her. You looked at her with compassion, gently touching her cheek.

"You are strong, love. You don’t have to prove it all the time. And there’s no shame in accepting help." you smiled sweetly, though your eyes shone with the sincerity of your love.

Sevika sighed, something in her chest loosening as she heard those words. The warmth of your embrace enveloped her, and for the first time since the accident, she allowed herself to relax. You helped her get up, guiding her toward the bathroom.

The process of showering became a different experience. You helped her balance, using the new prosthetic, while Sevika tried not to lose her patience. It was difficult—it felt like she was starting over, as if everything she knew about herself was changing. But with your presence nearby, things seemed a little more bearable.

When you were done, you gently dried her hair, noticing the small imperfections and scars Sevika tried to hide. Then, you helped her put on clothes, carefully adjusting her shirt to avoid hurting her.

"It’s not so hard, see?" you said, winking at her as you gently stroked the arm that was still not used to moving with ease. Sevika looked at you with a faint smile, her gaze filled with gratitude. Although she felt vulnerable, the closeness of your presence gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t experienced before.

Finally, when you both sat on the couch, Sevika rested her head in your lap. The rain continued to fall, but in that moment, everything seemed calmer. You ran your fingers through her hair, every movement full of affection, while Sevika, for the first time in a long while, allowed someone to take care of her.

"Thank you..." Sevika murmured, her voice softer than you had ever heard it.

You smiled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "You don’t have to thank me, love. I’ll always be here."

Sevika lifted her gaze, searching your eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. With a sideways smile and a gaze full of mischief, Sevika hugged you tightly, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

"I love you.... And I promise I won’t waste your time with this new version of me." she whispered, with a touch of challenge but also with the softness of vulnerability that only you could see.

Smiling, you caressed her face, sliding your hand to her neck with a gentle pressure. "All I want, Sevika, is for you to be okay. And it doesn’t matter what version of you that is. I’m with you, always."

The kiss continued, deeper this time, full of promises, affection, and a love that transcended any obstacle, even the most physical. While the storm outside the apartment raged on, within those walls, Sevika and you found a calm and comfort that could only be found in each other’s embrace.

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