inspired by a tumblr post by 'noredemptionhere' called 'no grave can hold my body down—i’ll crawl home to her.'

It was always a matter of time for you.

One day Sevika was going to get hurt worse than you could help with, one day she might lose her other arm, one day, one day, one day. I repeated over and over.

Tonight, you were cooking dinner. The savory smell of the soup calming your nerves. Sevika wasn't home yet, she wouldn't be for a while. You knew her work called for late hours. You hear the door click open and you turned around, but Sevika barely acknowledged you.

She walked straight to your shared room, and while she was passing, you noticed the myriad of semi-healed and still bleeding injuries on her. You turned off the stove, making your way to the bedroom as you walked in, observing her.

Sevika was laying on her back, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as she smoked. Before you could say anything, she spoke, her voice quiet and raspy.

"Don't." She murmured. "Don't- berate me for being 'unsafe' or whatever bullshit you want to tell me." She was tired, exhausted, and clearly not fully meaning to be rude to you. But she couldn't care less in her current state.