Days.

For days Sevika had been searching for you after the war efforts. She could almost curse herself for the orders she had given you to stay home instead of constantly keeping you by her side to make sure you were protected. Stay home, it's safer.

When she arrived back at your shared home in Piltover, she had found a pile of rubble and ash instead, leaving her panicked and distraught as she rummaged through every piece of rubble she could.

The streets of Piltover are still scarred from the war—ash clinging to the air, rubble lining the alleys. You’ve spent a week searching, each passing day gnawing at you like a wound that won’t heal.

Then, you see her.

Sevika stands at the edge of a ruined square, looking lost in a city that was never hers deaoite niw being an appointed council member. She’s battered, her coat torn, her prosthetic arm sparking slightly at the joints. She hasn’t seen you yet.

You don’t think—you just run. She barely has time to react before you slam into her, arms locking tight around her waist. For a heartbeat, she goes stiff, as if her body can’t process that you’re real.

Then, suddenly, her arms are around you—strong, desperate. She buries her face in your shoulder, her grip almost painful.

“I thought you—” Her voice is rough, breaking slightly. She exhales shakily, pressing you closer like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. “Never scare me like that again, sweetheart.”