Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

"What i think happened"

"Did you ever loved me?"
"...No."

• The room is heavy with silence, tension crackling in the air like an unspoken storm.

• Sevika leans against the edge of the table, her metal hand gripping its surface so hard the wood groans beneath the pressure.

• You stand a few feet away, arms crossed, trying to appear strong, but the tremble in your voice betrays you.

• “You’ve been different,” you start, your tone low but laced with an edge. “I know when something’s off, Sev.”

• She doesn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on a spot just past you, her jaw working as if chewing over words she can’t quite spit out.

• “Maybe it’s just...better this way,” Sevika finally mutters, the gravel in her voice making the words cut sharper.

• Your breath hitches, the walls you’ve been building threatening to crumble. “Better for who?”

• Her eyes finally meet yours, and the cold detachment in them sends a chill through your spine.

• “For both of us,” she says quietly, as if saying it louder would make it hurt even more.

• You step forward, your voice breaking despite your efforts to keep steady. “Did you ever love me?”

• The question hangs in the air, a blade dangling by a thread, ready to drop.

• Sevika’s lips part as if to speak, but she hesitates, her expression flickering with something too fleeting to name.

• She finally exhales, her tone flat, detached. “...No.”

• The single word hits like a gunshot, the world tilting off its axis as you feel the weight of it settle in your chest.

• Your heart shatters, but you don’t let the tears fall—not here, not now.

• “You’re lying,” you whisper, more to yourself than to her, clinging to the hope that this isn’t real.

• She looks away again, her hand loosening its grip on the table. “Believe what you want.”

• Her words are soft, but they carry an unbearable finality.

• You take a step back, the sound of your heels on the floor echoing in the space between you.

• “You’re a coward,” you say, venom lacing your tone, though your voice trembles. “And I hope it eats at you.”

• Sevika doesn’t stop you as you turn and walk away, the door slamming shut behind you.

• Alone in the room, she finally lets her shoulders sag, her hand running through her hair.

• Her jaw tightens, but her gaze drops to the floor, the regret in her eyes unmistakable as she leans her head back, closing her eyes against the weight of what she’s just done.