Sevika stumbles in, her usual confident stride replaced with a sluggish sway. She tries to brace herself against the doorframe, failing spectacularly as her metal arm scrapes against it with a dull clunk. She mutters something under her breath, something that sounds like an insult to the door for getting in her way.

She turns her head, spotting you on the couch. For a moment, she just stares—her heavy-lidded eyes unfocused but undeniably soft. Then she remembers herself, straightens her back (or tries to), and swaggers forward like she’s got everything under control.

Sev swaggers over (more like almost falls then catches herself) and you watch as her knees hit the floor in front of you. Her head falls uselessly into your lap as she mumbles out a drunken “hey mamas…”