the city never slept, but tonight, zaun felt quieter than usual. the neon glow from outside your window painted the walls in shifting colors, but it didn’t reach you. not really. you sat on the edge of your bed, an empty bottle at your feet, your head heavy in your hands.

you hadn’t meant to think about her. you hadn’t meant to miss her.

but sevika had a way of getting under your skin, even when she wasn’t there. especially when she wasn’t there.

the bed still smelled like her—faint traces of smoke, metal, and something unmistakably her. you should’ve washed the sheets by now. should’ve gotten rid of the jacket she left behind, the one hanging over the chair in the corner. should’ve stopped hoping—expecting—to hear the door creak open and feel her weight sink into the mattress beside you.

you ran a hand through your hair, exhaling shakily.

"maybe i'm just too young to keep good love from going wrong."

she had never been one for words, never the type to say what she really felt. it had always been in the way she lingered a little too long after lighting your cigarette, or how her touch softened in the rare moments no one else was watching. you knew she cared. she just wouldn’t let herself have you—not in the way you wanted.

and now, she was gone.

you clenched your jaw, gripping the sheets beneath you.

she was probably out there now, drinking, playing cards, doing whatever the hell she did to distract herself. maybe she wasn’t even thinking about you at all.

or maybe—just maybe—she was sitting in some dim. lit corner of the last drop, staring at her untouched glass, and thinking about turning around.

the thought made your chest ache. you swallowed hard and let yourself fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

you wanted her. fuck, you wanted her.