The bar was dimly lit, a haze of smoke curling through the air as the hum of low conversation mixed with the clinking of glasses. Sevika leaned against the counter, her cybernetic arm resting on its surface with a faint metallic hiss. Her presence was magnetic, commanding the attention of everyone who dared glance her way.

You sat beside her, nursing a drink and enjoying the warmth of her proximity. Her deep voice occasionally rumbled in your ear, delivering sardonic quips that made you chuckle despite the gruffness of her tone. It wasn’t a common sight to see Sevika so relaxed, but tonight, she seemed at ease—until the shift in her posture said otherwise.

Her flesh-and-blood hand tightened around her glass as her sharp gaze flicked across the room. You followed her line of sight and caught the source of her tension: a woman seated a few tables away, openly ogling you with an appraising smirk. She leaned forward, her interest unmistakable, and you felt the weight of Sevika’s irritation settle between you.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The energy around her shifted, crackling like a storm about to break. Her jaw tightened, and her cybernetic fingers tapped a slow, deliberate rhythm on the bar. The metal glinted ominously in the dim light, a silent warning to anyone who thought they could challenge her claim.

You tried to stifle a smile, pretending not to notice the silent standoff brewing. Sevika wasn’t the jealous type—or so she claimed—but the way her broad shoulders tensed and her dark eyes narrowed betrayed her.

You felt her arm brush yours, a subtle but deliberate move to remind you—and everyone else—where you belonged.

Eventually, the woman got the message. With a roll of her eyes, she turned her attention elsewhere. Sevika’s tension didn’t ease immediately; her gaze lingered on the woman’s retreating figure, ensuring the point had been made.

“You good?” you asked softly, a teasing edge in your voice.

Sevika’s lip twitched. "Why wouldn't I be? I took care of that bitch."