You were sitting next to Sevika- in her favorite spot at The Last Drop- and her hand was wrapped around your waste as she pulled you against her. Her hand began to travel up, up your arm, only freezing at the sound of you wincing. Her gaze shot over to you, her stare both questioning and stern,

“Fuck was that?” She said, out of anger- at the person who hurt you- and concern; you were hurt.