arya

Sevika wasn't going to bring it up tonight.

You’re curled up beside her on the couch, the quiet hum of the city outside the window, your fingers tracing lazy shapes on her thigh. The TV flickers different colors in the corner, forgotten. Her arm is around your shoulder, and your eyes are slowly closing, but you notice that she’s too still, too quiet, barely breathing.

You shift, glance up at her, sensing it.

“You alright?”

She nods after a moment, but it’s not convincing. You tilt your head to study her, really study her, but she can’t hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

“Sevika,” you say, now a little firmer.

Her jaw tightens before she heavily sighs.

“…I don’t know how to do this shit,” she mutters, thumb grazing your shoulder like a habit. “Not the way you probably imagined it.”

You sit up a little, tensing slightly. “Do what?”

She lets out a long and heavy exhale before reaching into the pocket of her sweater, avoiding your eyes.

The box Sevika pulls out is small. A simple, black, velvet box. She holds it between her fingers like it’s something fragile—like it might burn through her palm if she grips it too hard.

She doesn’t open it. She just passes it to you without a word.

Your heart stutters. Your hands shake when you take it, slow, hesitant, already feeling what’s inside before you even look.

The ring catches the low light, and Gods, it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“What…?” your voice barely comes out.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want something like this,” she says, eyes fixed on the floor now. “Hell, I didn’t even think I’d live long enough to consider it.”

There’s a pause. A bitter laugh under her breath.

“And now… all I think about is staying. Staying with you. Waking up next to you every day until the world burns down around us.”

You look at her, really look at her, and her expression guts you. There was a quiet kind of fear hidden behind layers, but you could see it. This desperate, aching softness she never lets anyone see. Usually not even you, not fully.

“I don’t have anything else to offer you,” Sevika says, voice lower now, cracking around the edges. “No promises I won’t screw it up. No fancy life. Just me. All of me.”

She finally meets your eyes. With orbs like the moon, her gaze was glazed over, glassy like stars. In them, you saw vulnerability. For the first time, you saw true terror in her. And it wasn’t in battle, or on a mission where her life was at stake, but instead it was here, right in front of you.

“…But if you want it, it’s yours.”

You don’t speak. Just slide forward and wrap your arms around her, pressing your face into her shoulder. Sevika holds you tight, secure, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Then she shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to take your hand in hers—calloused fingers cradling yours with so much care you can feel in your bones. She doesn’t say anything else as she slips the ring onto your finger, her thumb brushing over it once it’s in place.

Her hands are shaking.

“You dumbass,” you whisper, your voice trembling, tears finally breaking out and rolling down your cheeks. “You already gave me everything.”

And when you kiss her, lacing her with more passion than ever before, she finally exhales for real.

Her breath is soft and tender. Her heart, full of all the things she never thought she could feel.

And maybe she’ll never say it in the right ways. Maybe she’ll never speak it in grand gestures or in perfect lines, but she loves you.