The apartment was quiet, the city’s hum barely reaching you. You sat on the couch, knees pulled up, staring blankly at the wall. It had been one of those weeks, and you couldn’t find the words to explain it.

A soft knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Sevika stepped inside without a word, her presence immediately grounding. She looked at you, her voice soft, “Hey, doll.”

You didn’t respond, but she didn’t push. Instead, she sat beside you, her silence speaking louder than any questions. Her hand found yours, her thumb gently brushing over your skin.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she murmured. “I’m here if you need me.”

It was enough. Your chest tightened, and before you knew it, tears slipped down your face. Sevika didn’t flinch or try to stop it. She pulled you closer, her arm wrapping around you as you cried into her shoulder.

“You’ve been holding onto this for too long,” she whispered, her voice steady. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

For the first time in ages, you let yourself feel it all—pain, exhaustion, everything—and Sevika stayed with you, never leaving. When the sobs finally calmed, she lifted your chin, meeting your gaze.

“You’re still here,” she said, her voice gentle. “And I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

You nodded, a small laugh escaping you despite the tears. “Got it.”

Sevika smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Let’s get you something to eat. Time to take care of you, bunny.”