Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

"All i see is you"

• The dim glow of the Lanes’ neon lights filters through the window, casting faint, flickering patterns across the walls of the quiet room.

• Sevika leans back in her chair, her metal arm resting on the table, a half-empty glass of whiskey untouched in front of her.

• Her other hand absently traces the scar on her shoulder, but her mind is far away, her sharp eyes softening with a rare kind of vulnerability.

• She closes her eyes, trying to block out the chaos of Zaun, the weight of Silco’s demands, the endless noise in her head.

• But it isn’t silence that greets her in the dark; it’s you.

• She sees the tilt of your smile, the crinkle at the corners of your eyes when you laugh, the way your hands linger on hers even when she pretends not to notice.

• A faint, bittersweet warmth blooms in her chest as your face lingers in her mind, so vivid it feels like you’re standing right in front of her.

• She swears she can hear your voice, soft and teasing, calling her “Sev,” like you know the power you have over her.

• Her lips twitch into the smallest of smiles, but it fades just as quickly, her brows furrowing as her chest tightens.

• She remembers how your fingertips brushed against her jaw earlier that day, your voice low and filled with care as you told her to come back safe.

• “I always come back,” she’d grumbled, but the memory of your worried gaze burns into her now, refusing to leave her mind.

• Sevika exhales sharply, her hand clenching into a fist as she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

• She’s not used to this—this raw, unshakable pull toward someone. The way you’ve managed to carve yourself into her without even trying.

• The image of your eyes haunts her, even when she tries to shake it off. The softness, the trust, the way they look at her like she’s worth something more than what Zaun has turned her into.

• She doesn’t deserve that look, she thinks. She doesn’t deserve you.

• Yet, when she finally drags herself home later that night, the weight of the day hanging heavy on her shoulders, there you are.

• You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, waiting for her despite the late hour.

• Her chest tightens at the sight of you, the real you, not just the version that lives in her mind.

• She stands there for a moment, unmoving, her gaze softening as she takes you in.

• “You’re late,” you mumble groggily, rubbing your eyes as you sit up.

• “Didn’t mean to keep you up, doll,” she says, her voice quieter than usual as she steps closer.

• You just smile, reaching for her hand without hesitation, pulling her down onto the couch beside you.

• She doesn’t resist, letting you guide her into the small, familiar comfort of your arms.

• Her head finds its way to your shoulder, and for once, she lets herself relax. The scent of you, the warmth of your touch, it’s all real—no longer just a ghost in her mind.

• “Sevika,” you murmur softly, your fingers brushing through her hair, “You okay?”

• She doesn’t answer at first, but her hand tightens gently on yours, her lips pressing a soft kiss to your wrist.

• “I’m fine,” she says, her voice rough but steady, “Just… missed you.”

• In the silence that follows, she closes her eyes again, and this time, it’s not just your image in her mind—it’s the steady rhythm of your breathing, the warmth of your skin against hers, the weight of your presence anchoring her.

• She lets out a long breath, her arms wrapping around you a little tighter.

• “I close my eyes,” she murmurs under her breath, “and all I see is you.”

• You smile, leaning your head against hers, the two of you tangled together in the quiet, a world away from the chaos outside.