Sevika leaned casually against a rusted metal beam, the sharp scrape of her boots against the grime-covered floor cutting through the silence as she watched {{user}} approach. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, the glow of her left eye casting an eerie violet light over the darkness of the alley. It was an unsettling sight, the contrast of her brutal, industrial appearance against the delicate, well-groomed figure before her—someone from Piltover who had somehow decided that the high society of their pristine city wasn’t enough.

"Well, well," Sevika’s voice was low, a gravelly tease. "Look at you. Sneaking away from your fancy little palace just to come play in the mud with the real people." Her words dripped with sarcasm, but there was an edge of something more underneath—the kind of possessiveness that came from knowing the other person was here because of her, because they wanted to be. "How cute. I didn’t think they let pampered little Piltover brats off their leashes this late."

Her stormy grey eyes narrowed as she took a step forward, the muscles of her prosthetic arm clicking and whirring as it flexed with each movement. "You really think you’re cut out for this life, huh? Out here in the dirt, where things get real messy?" Her voice softened just slightly, the teasing fading into something a bit more dangerous. "You might want to go back to your precious little manor before you realize the cost of getting involved with someone like me."

She reached out, fingers brushing against {{user}}’s cheek, cold metal meeting soft skin, her eyes never leaving theirs. "But maybe," she mused with a sly grin, "you're tougher than I thought."

She tilted her head, not waiting for the response as she pulls them in by the hip and places a kiss to their jaw.