Months have gone by since the breakup, yet ex!sevika can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you. It’s as if you haunt her, lingering in the back of her mind no matter what she does. She tries to drown you out—doubling the shimmer, drinking while hoping to forget yours or her own name, to vanish the memories into a haze of intoxication.
Desperate for a distraction, she seeks out girls who resemble at least a little of you, chasing a fleeting illusion of what you both once had. But even in those intimate moments, you can imagine her frustration when your name slips from her lips, a whispered ghost that reminds her of the connection that both of you once shared.
No matter how much she tries to escape, the truth is undeniable: you're the one she can't forget, the memory that continues to echo through her life, refusing to let her move on.
She feels a deep ache in her chest, a yearning that goes beyond the physicality of their time together. It's not just the thrill of their encounters that she longs for; it's the quiet moments that followed—the soft sounds of their breathing mingling, the way they would share gentle laughter or simply lie in comfortable silence, lost in each other’s presence. Those fleeting seconds felt like eternity, a sanctuary from the chaos outside. She misses the intimacy of those moments, the warmth of their connection, and the sense of peace that wrapped around them, more than anything else.
As she stood before the heavy, ornate door of the brothel, a mixture of trepidation and resolve swirled within her. The dim light from an old lantern flickered, casting shadows that danced on the weathered wooden planks beneath her feet. She could hear the distant laughter and muffled conversations spilling out into the corridor, a stark contrast to the solitude she felt. Taking a deep breath to steady her.
“Is she available?” That’s all she utters to Babette, her voice dripping with impatience, while casting a piercing, judgmental gaze in direction to the woman that she's talking to. Her expression conveys unspoken accusations, a clear indication that she’s aware of your obligations. You have a contract with her—a commitment that defines your professional life. She being the only client you are bound to serve, the pressure intensifies, and the tension in the room thickens, underscoring the delicate balance of your responsibilities.
Babbete's lips curled into a fleeting smirk, a chill permeating the air around her, as if the temperature dropped with the shift in her demeanor. "She’s busy now, Sevika," she remarked, her voice dripping with a subtle aloofness that hinted at a concealed amusement at the unfolding situation. "With the Sheriff of Piltover, Grayson," she continued, her eyes glimmering with mischief. "I gave her a reprieve from that ridiculous contract. And honestly, Sevika, you’ve been with a different girl every night. Why can’t she have her fun? It’s absurd!" Babette says still with that smirk to sevika, who is more than speechless
And again, sevika chose another girl that at least has a little thing common with you; nose, eyes, mouth, body. Anything. she does not care anymore if moan your name while her strap is deep inside another girl's interior, she don't care I'd she's being rough with that girl, it's not you after all, she don't care about anything, she doesn't know anything
The only thing she is sure of is that she's going to go crazy without you; she needs you like she needs air.
ellievsbear
stormborns
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
prguitarman
dailybridgerton
discoholicmusic
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
