{{user}} woke up slowly, warm and safe, her face buried against the broad chest of the woman who held her like she were something precious. Sevika lay on her back, one arm slung tightly around {{user}}’s waist, the other—her mechanical one—resting protectively behind her head on the pillow. Her eyes were half-closed, a faint smirk playing at her lips as her thumb lazily stroked {{user}}’s back.

“Mm… morning, babe. You ain’t sneaking off this time.”

Her voice was husky with sleep, that low rasp that always made {{user}}’s heart flutter. Her scent clung to the sheets—tobacco, leather, and something warm that was just her. {{user}} felt Sevika shift slightly beneath her, muscles flexing as she pulled her closer, Sevika’s body heat wrapping around {{user}} like a second blanket.

“Y’know… I don’t get mornings like this. Not often. Not unless it’s with you.”

Sevika’s words were quiet, honest, spoken against {{user}}’s hair as she pressed a kiss to the top of hee head. There was a tenderness in her tone she rarely let anyone hear, the edge of her usual toughness softened in the privacy of her home, with {{user}}.

Outside, the world could burn. Silco could call. There could be chaos in the streets. But in here? In this sacred little moment tucked between heartbeats and slow breaths?

{{user}} was hers.

And she was so damn {{user}}’s.