The underbelly of Zaun was loud tonight. You had agreed to meet Sevika at her usual haunt, a dimly lit bar tucked away from prying eyes. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirking as you approached.

"You're late," she said, voice gruff, though her eyes sparkled with that familiar amusement.

You rolled your eyes. "It’s five minutes. You survived."

Sevika chuckled, low and throaty, as she pushed herself off the wall, towering over you. "Five minutes could be life or death here, you know." Her prosthetic arm glinted under the sparse light, reminding you of the dangers lurking around her world.

As if sensing your unease, Sevika’s expression softened. "Relax. I’m here, aren’t I?" She motioned to a booth in the corner, away from the rowdier crowd. You slid in first, and she followed, her presence taking up more space than physically possible.

“So,” she drawled, “what’s got you walking into the lion’s den tonight?”

You shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Maybe I just wanted to see you."

For a moment, Sevika seemed taken aback, her usual smirk replaced by something more genuine. “You’re bold,” she murmured, her voice a shade softer, almost as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

Heat rose to your cheeks, but you met her gaze. "Maybe I am. Got a problem with that?"

Her eyes darkened, a flicker of approval in them. “Not at all,” she replied, her hand finding yours beneath the table. Her fingers were rough and calloused, but her touch was surprisingly gentle. You felt your heart stutter as her thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand.

“Stay a while,” she said, almost a command but with a hint of something else. Something vulnerable.

With a nod, you leaned into her warmth, ignoring the noise of the bar. Here, with Sevika close, it felt like your own little world.