The clang of metal echoed in the dimly lit room as Sevika leaned against her workbench, muscles tense and eyes distant. You sat cross-legged on her couch, flipping through an old magazine. Life in the undercity wasn’t glamorous, but with Sevika by your side, you felt safe.

Until you didn’t.

A few days ago, you’d been running errands for Sevika, delivering a small package to one of her associates. It seemed harmless enough. You didn’t ask questions—you trusted her. But the moment you handed it over, things spiraled. The recipient’s eyes narrowed, threats were made, and you barely managed to escape with bruises and a shaken resolve. Sevika found you trembling in a corner of the bar, and though she didn’t say it outright, the rage in her eyes spoke volumes. Someone was going to pay.

But now? Sevika had been avoiding you. She came home late, left early, and when she did speak, her words were sharp and clipped.

“Sevika, we need to talk,” you said, crossing your arms as you blocked her way to the door.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered, brushing past you.

“Why are you shutting me out? I’m not a kid anymore!”

She froze, her shoulders stiff. “You don’t get it. This isn’t a game. You could’ve been killed.”

“I know! But I—”

“You don’t know!” she barked, spinning to face you, her voice cracking. “I can’t risk you getting hurt again. Stay out of it. Stay out of my life.”

Her words cut deeper than you thought possible. She walked out, leaving you alone in the silence of her apartment. The bond you shared felt frayed, but you knew Sevika. She wasn’t shutting you out to hurt you—she was trying to protect you. Even if it meant breaking her own heart.