the tension had been building for weeks—silent, heavy, unspoken. you tried to ignore it, tried to brush off the way sevika would pull away when you reached for her hand, the way she never said anything soft, never let her guard down. but tonight, after one drink too many and another cold dismissal, it all boiled over.

"do you even care about me?" the words slipped out, sharp and raw. sevika, sitting at the edge of her bed, exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over her face.

"you know i do," she muttered, voice low, as if she was already exhausted by this conversation.

"then act like it!" you took a step closer, fists clenched. "i'm not asking for grand gestures, sevika. just something—anything—to show me i mean more to you than just some distraction at the end of the day."

her jaw tightened, eyes flickering with something unreadable. she stood up, towering over you. "you knew what this was," she said, voice like steel. "i don’t do all that… soft shit."

you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "you say that like it’s some excuse, like you're incapable of feeling anything real."

your voice cracked despite yourself, and that seemed to strike something in her. "but i see it. i see the way you clench your fists when i talk to someone else, the way you stand in front of me when things get dangerous. you care, sevika. you just refuse to admit it."

she looked away, jaw tightening. "because the second i do, it’ll get taken from me."

silence.

it was the closest she had ever come to admitting what you had always suspected—she was terrified. not of fights, not of death, but of vulnerability. of loss.