Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

"Oh, where's my love"

(I realy recommend to listen to the song "Where's my love" while you read this chapter. Trust me.)

• The heavy hum of Zaun's underbelly vibrates in your chest as you pace back and forth in the small, dimly lit apartment. The faint smell of smoke lingers in the air, mingling with the bitter scent of alcohol and sweat.

• You check the time again. Hours have passed, yet she hasn’t returned. You try to shake the unease gnawing at your gut, but it lingers like a shadow.

• There’s a slight tremor in your hands as you curl your fingers around the edge of the countertop, the cold metal feeling foreign against your skin. You try to steady yourself, but the feeling of being abandoned starts to gnaw at your insides.

• Sevika promised she’d be home. She always comes back.

• But the longer she stays away, the more the doubt settles in. You remember the weight of her embrace earlier that evening, the way her hand gently cupped your face as she whispered, “I’ll be back soon, sugar.”

• You told yourself that you wouldn’t worry, that she’d always come back, no matter what. But tonight feels different. The silence feels heavier, suffocating.

• A sudden crash from outside startles you, but it’s only a couple of thugs passing by. The world keeps moving around you, but you feel frozen in place, caught in the fear that tonight could be different.

• You sit down on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest, staring out at the city of lights that never stop flickering. The loneliness creeps in slowly, eating away at you, but you tell yourself to hold on.

• The door creaks open. Your heart leaps, but the figure standing in the doorway isn’t Sevika. It’s one of her men.

• He’s clearly trying to mask his own discomfort as he steps inside, looking at you with soft pity.

• “She’s... she’s not coming back...” he says quietly, voice thick with uncertainty.

• Your chest tightens. You don’t want to hear it. You can’t.

• “No,” you murmur, shaking your head. “She promised.”

• He shifts uncomfortably, unable to meet your gaze, before placing a small, crumpled letter on the table.

• “She told us to give this to you. She didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else.”

• You rip open the letter, the paper crinkling in your hands. The words on the page blur as your vision sharpens with unshed tears.

• "I’m sorry, doll. I know I promised, but I can’t keep doing this. You deserve someone who can be there for you. I’m no good for you. Please understand. - S."

• The letter shakes in your hands as the air seems to vanish from the room. You barely register the man leaving, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

• The weight of her words crushes you. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be enough for her.

• Your breath hitches as your chest aches, the emptiness inside you growing. You feel as though the world around you has stopped moving, and in that stillness, it hits you—she’s gone.

• The tears you’d been holding back fall, staining the paper in your hands.

• You hear a familiar noise from the hallway. A footstep, faint but unmistakable. Your heart skips, but when you look up, the door is still shut.

• “Where’s my love?” you whisper into the silence, the ache in your voice cutting through the empty apartment.

• No one answers. There’s only the sound of your own breath, ragged and desperate, as you fall back into the couch, curling in on yourself.

• You realize then that it’s not just the distance between the two of you that stings. It’s the space she left in your chest, one that can’t be filled.

• You stay there, waiting, hoping, but the night stretches on, and Sevika never comes back.