sevika is not the type to coddle. you know that.

so, when she walks into your shared space and finds you curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow with a pained grimace on your face, you don’t expect much. maybe an eye roll. maybe a snarky comment about how you look “pathetic.”

instead, she sighs—the sigh. the one that says i don’t have time for this, even as she tosses her coat onto a chair and stalks toward you.

“what now?” she grumbles, crossing her arms.

you peer up at her weakly. “period.”

she scoffs. “oh, for fuck’s sake.” but she doesn’t leave. instead, she studies you for a second—how you’re curled in on yourself, how your face is paler than usual.

she runs a hand down her face. “did you take anything?”

you shake your head. “we ran out of painkillers.”

sevika mutters something under her breath—probably about how you should’ve told her—but she doesn’t say it out loud. instead, she turns on her heel and disappears into the bathroom. you hear cabinets opening, drawers shutting with just a little too much force, before she comes back with a heating pad.

she tosses it at you—not gently, but not hard either. “use that.”

you blink at her. “where did you even get this?”

she shrugs, leaning against the wall. “brought it a while ago.”

you squint. “for me?”

she clicks her tongue, looking away. “don’t make it weird.”

a small smile tugs at your lips as you press the heating pad to your stomach, relishing in the warmth.

sevika sighs again—longer this time—before walking off toward the kitchen. you hear her rummaging through the cabinets, the sound of something clattering against the counter. a few minutes later, she returns, tossing a small pack of your favorite snacks onto your lap.

you raise a brow. “wow. you’re really going soft on me.”

she glares. “i will take them back.”