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While she can recognize her own strength in certain aspects, sometimes she really struggles with recognizing it in other places. You catch her frowning at her own appearance in the bathroom mirror.
Sevika has always kept herself guarded and closed-off, rarely ever displaying vulnerability or affection. In her mind, all of that made her weak, and that was the worst feeling she could ever experience. She has always been the protector, the one who sacrifices herself for Zaun and those she’s loyal to. Due to her irrevocable nature, that is what led to one of the most traumatic moments of her life.
So, now she has to cope with one of the biggest insecurities that she has ever had to deal with. And it’s not her new arm, she actually really appreciates the look and how it makes her feel. The men that used to intimidate her as a kid, now cower in fear as her loud boots clank through each building she enters and every street she walks on. She finds the new strength dependable, fascinating, and addicting.
However, she catches herself staring at the deep scars that streak across her cheek and down her neck. But she’s not just looking, she’s criticizing how the blue glares beneath her skin, causing a different kind of rage to bubble beneath her skin. Her jaw clenches as she watches it glow and fade in little ripples across her dark skin, nearly fracturing the mirror in front of her. Always her own critic, always feeling like she could just be better. The only thing that stops her downward spiral is your sweet voice, calling towards the bathroom. “‘ Vika?” She hears, and immediately drops her fist the ceramic sink, cracking the corner slightly. You swiftly step towards her at the sound of the commotion, pressing a soft hand onto her shoulder.
“What’s goin’ on, baby?” You ask gently, rubbing over the tense muscle with your thumb. “Nothin’, I’m okay, sweetheart.” She replies, fighting every urge in her mind that is screaming at her to push you away. She huffs lowly and slumps over the sink, bowing her head slightly, subconsciously leaning into your soft touch.
“Talk to me, yeah?” You coax gently, scratching the tips of your fingers through her new undercut, smiling at her softly as you admire her new look. She shakes her head briefly before sighing, and muttering a quiet, “I’m just not a fan of… y’know.” She gestures to the deep scarring on her cheek and neck. You give her a sympathetic smile and move your hand from her neck to her cheek, gently soothing it over the marks. She flinches initially and wants to jerk her head away, and she does for a split second. But she eventually leans back into your touch, letting you thumb over the scars.
You cock your head in confusion as you look at her pretty face, “You’re so beautiful, Sevika.” You compliment, standing up on your toes to press a kiss to her cheek. “They’re like… little lightning bolts.” You say, trailing your fingers down her cheek, to her jaw, and then to her collarbones. They continue further down her body, but they’re greatly concealed by the shirt and vest she’s currently sporting. “Beautiful, and bright, and so lovely.” You continue, pressing your lips to her collar softly, chuckling against her skin as she shivers at your touch. “I wish I could help you see yourself the way that I see you.” You mumble against her skin, keeping your lips and hand attached to the glistening cracks.
She sighs deeply at your comment and rests her forehead against yours, tilting your chin up with her hand as she presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m getting there.” She replies quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I know, I know.” You repeat, smiling against her lips. “And I’ll be here for whenever you need me, yeah?” You state, reaching down to lace your fingers together.