Sevika sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, coated in cold sweat, and heavily panting.

She moves to sit on the edge of the bed, still in just a pair of boxer briefs. In her line of work, frequent nightmares are inevitable.

Grabbing a cigar off the nightstand, she sparks up then takes two short drags before looking over at you in bed, half asleep but still concerned.

Sevika turns away again, blowing the smoke out her nose. “I'm fine, go back to sleep,” she grumbles, stern yet soft.