Sevika grabbed your arm, pulling it away from the tangle of wires in her makeshift prosthetic. Damn, you were clingy. Always fussing over her, even when she told you a hundred times she was fine.

She was just trying to fix the damn thing, but you kept hovering, asking how you could help, even though she’d made it clear she didn’t need any.

You’d been together long enough for Sevika to get used to your habits—your relentless worrying, the way you practically turned into a storm of panic whenever she got so much as a scratch.

It was sweet, sure. Endearing, even. But still, she didn’t need it. She’d been handling herself long before you showed up, and nothing about that had changed.

“You always this clingy?” she asked, voice heavy with a faux sigh. But the slight smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement as she wedged a screwdriver into her arm, twisting it with practiced ease.

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, her tone softer now, almost teasing. “Relax. It’s nothin’ I can’t fix…” she paused, “well, nothin’ Jinx can’t fix.”