Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

You guys argue and you storm off

• The argument starts small, something mundane, but it quickly escalates. Sevika’s tone is sharp, her words clipped as she tries to hold her ground.

• You’re just as fiery, standing toe-to-toe with her, refusing to back down. The tension between you both feels electric, the room growing hotter with each exchanged word.

• Sevika runs a hand through her hair, her mechanical arm flexing at her side, frustration clear in her stance. “You’re being unreasonable,” she mutters, her voice low but edged.

• Your retort is quick and biting, your anger flaring at her dismissive tone. She narrows her eyes, her jaw tightening as she tries to rein in her temper.

• When Sevika says something particularly cutting, it feels like a punch to the gut. Without another word, you spin on your heel and storm out, slamming the door behind you.

• The sound of the door echoes in the silence that follows, and Sevika stands there, staring at the empty space where you were. Her hands clench into fists, frustration and guilt swirling inside her.

• She paces the room, her boots thudding heavily against the floor, replaying the argument in her head. Her expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of regret in her eyes.

• “Damn it,” she mutters under her breath, running a hand down her face. She grabs her coat, knowing she can’t just let you walk off like that, especially when it’s late and dangerous outside.

• She storms out after you, her broad frame cutting through the dimly lit streets. Her eyes scan the area, sharp and determined, her heart beating faster with every passing second she doesn’t find you.

• When she finally spots you sitting on a bench, your arms crossed tightly, her steps slow. She exhales a long breath, tension draining from her shoulders, but her expression remains firm.

• “Princess,” she calls out softly, her voice lacking its usual sharpness. She approaches cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

• You don’t look at her, your gaze fixed on the ground, but she can see the way your shoulders tense at her presence.

• Sevika sighs, lowering herself onto the bench beside you. Her mechanical arm rests on her knee while her human hand fidgets slightly, an uncharacteristic display of unease.

• “Look, I…” she begins, her voice low and gruff. She pauses, struggling to find the right words. “I shouldn’t have said what I said back there.”

• You glance at her briefly, your expression guarded, and she exhales again, rubbing the back of her neck.

• “I’m not good at this,” she admits, her voice quieter now. “But I don’t want you walking off like that. Not over me.”

• She leans forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees as she speaks. “I get why you’re mad, sugar. Hell, you have every right to be.”

• When you don’t immediately respond, she hesitates, then reaches out to lightly touch your hand. “I’m sorry,” she says simply, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

• You finally look at her, and she holds your gaze, her expression steady but filled with something close to vulnerability.

• “Can we go home?” she asks after a moment, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

• As you nod reluctantly, Sevika stands, her hand gently guiding you to your feet. Her arm wraps around your shoulders as she leads you back, her protective nature kicking in as she keeps you close.

• By the time you’re home, she’s quieter, her actions speaking louder than words. She pulls you into her arms, holding you tightly, as if to silently say she’s sorry without over-explaining.