Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

"What i think happened"

"I miss you"
"I gave you a second chance already."

• The air is thick with tension as Sevika stands at the threshold of your door, her silhouette shadowed against the dim lights of Zaun’s streets.

• Her metal hand lingers on the doorframe, unsure, unsteady—a rare sight for someone so normally composed.

• You glance up from the small, cluttered table, your expression cold but calm. You don’t invite her in.

• “I just needed to see you,” Sevika says, her voice softer than usual, gravelly with something unspoken.

• You don’t respond right away, turning your gaze back to the mug in your hands, the warmth doing little to ease the chill running through you.

• “I miss you,” she says finally, the words spilling out like they’ve been eating at her.

• Your eyes lift slowly, locking onto hers, and the flicker of hope in her expression wavers under your scrutiny.

• “I gave you a second chance already, Sevika,” you say, voice steady but laced with exhaustion. The kind that only comes after being hurt too many times.

• She winces, just barely, but enough that you notice. Her hand clenches the edge of the doorframe tighter.

• “I know I screwed up. I know I don’t deserve—” she stops herself, frustration flashing across her face as she struggles to find the right words.

• “You don’t,” you interrupt, standing from your seat, the scrape of the chair loud in the tense silence.

• “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to fix it,” she says quickly, her voice rough, almost desperate.

• “Fix it?” You scoff, arms crossing over your chest. “You don’t just get to waltz back in here because you miss me. That’s not how this works.”

• Sevika’s shoulders slump slightly, and she takes a tentative step forward, but your glare stops her in her tracks.

• “I didn’t come here to make excuses,” she mutters, her gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I just... I needed you to know.”

• The vulnerability in her voice tugs at something deep in your chest, but you push it down, refusing to let it show.

• “Then you know what you need to do,” you say quietly, your voice firm but not unkind.

• Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, it looks like she wants to argue, but instead, she nods.

• “If you ever change your mind…” she trails off, her voice barely above a whisper as she turns to leave.

• The door closes softly behind her, and you stand there, unmoving, the sound echoing in the silence.

• For a long time, you don’t move, your hands gripping your arms as you wrestle with the storm of emotions swirling inside you.