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It is early morning, and the air is still cool from the night, but becoming balmy enough that wearing a thin sweater over a swimsuit would be enough to keep the goosebumps at bay. There are low-hanging clouds floating along the brightening troposphere; halcyon. Your toes burrow just under the sand; Appalachian quartz and microscopic exoskeletons exfoliating the soles of your feet. You feel the shore shift next to you, and she is warm. Sevika. You hear her laugh; rich and deep, as the tips of her metal fingers lightly brush shell fragments from your cheek, clinging to your skin from the salted, humid air. You blush at her, sheepishly, as she cups your cheek
“How long have you been out here, hm?” she inquires softly, looking at you fondly.
You shrug, sleepy eyes moving to look back at the horizon “Not too long, I don’t think…”
She hums in response, pressing her lips to your temple.“Long enough to be covered in sea-shells,” she teases, her hands moving to your soft hips to pull you between her legs, your back against her front.
The water laps gently towards you—low tide; the crest never quite reaching your sand-covered toes. Sevika’s warmth radiates onto you, her arms wrapped around you, your pliable curves forming to her muscular frame. She traces her fingers along the seam of your top as she kisses the shell of your ear, murmuring, “What’s on your mind this early?” No reply comes; you had been restless from recent nightmares, but they felt distant to you now—sat in such close proximity to her body. Your eyes drift to fixate on the southern magnolia tree looming over the old boardwalk leading up to one of the beach access points. Cream-cupped petals catching fallen, magenta dipped stamens, and you can’t help but think of how close the color is to Sevika’s cloak… You sigh softly, tilting your head to relax on her shoulder as your eyes flutter closed. Sevika chuckles, her hand moving from tracing the stitching on your sweater to hold your hand as she nuzzles into the crook of your neck, pressing a tender kiss to your pulse point. You both sit like that for a while, listening to each other's faint inhales.
Sevika’s eyes flick from the soft contour of your skin to a distant bottle tree near the edge of the small forest separating the sea and miles of marshlands. Her vision traces the cobalt curves of the bottle necks, impaled on twisted, bog-stained branches, before she takes a deep breath, gripping you a little tighter.
“Can I confess something?” she rumbles, her voice low and gravelly, still sleep ridden. Your eyes open, curiosity piqued by the gentleness in her tone. You turn slightly, catching a glimpse of her face. Sevika’s gaze is now fixed on the horizon— the faint sunlight playing on her features and highlighting the usual sharp contours in a softer glow.
“Of course you can.” You reply, your voice just above a whisper, the intimate moment between the two of you amplified by the quiet droning of the sea. Sevika takes a moment before replying, her thumb tracing the edge of a shell fragment still attached to your cheek; The cool metal of her fingers brushing your skin.
“I…” she hesitates, her voice trailing off into a whisper. “I sometimes forget that you’re real, you know?” Her words hang heavy in the air, vulnerability and the desire to be understood seeping through Sevika’s usually stoic facade; the wave of her admission makes your heart stutter.
“I’m real,” you reassure quickly, squeezing her hand in your own, nuzzling back against her neck. It had been about four months since Sevika had taken her position on the council; and since Jinx and Isha were lost to her. Sevika’s eyes close as you squeeze her hand, the muscles in her shoulders loosening as she tries to convince herself that it’s true— that you’re real. A small breath escapes her lips, as if your touch alone is soothing an ache deep within her. Her hand squeezes yours before she tugs you closer, as if trying to confirm your existence.
“Yes, you are,” she replies to you, though it sounds like more of an affirmation to herself. “Sometimes…Sometimes I fear losing you, too,” she adds quietly. You shake your head in response, moving now to face her fully, repositioning in her lap to hold her face in your hands.
“You will never lose me,” you soothe firmly. You knew the grief was still brewing, changing; a heaviness that clawed at something deep inside her. Sevika had hardly had any time to think, let alone feel and process her emotions before the council began making demands of her. Sevika’s gaze stays on your own; her opal eyes teeming with emotion. Your words resonate within her; still there is a visible struggle on her face; she wants to believe you, yet hesitates due to her inability to suppress the suffocating swell of her fear. She takes a deep breath, her hands coming up to cover yours, holding them against her cheeks.
“I want to believe that,” she admits, her voice thick with vulnerability. “It’s just…losing them…” she trails off, her voice wavering as she swallows. Your eyebrows furrow in concern as you gently guide her head to your shoulder, your heart breaking at the insurmountable grief that had been thrust upon her. Without speaking, lingering in the silence, your hand moves in wide circles over the broad expanse of her back, encouraging her to continue, if she wants to. Sevika’s body tenses at first, her muscles rigid under your palm; but she relents, her weight sinking into you as she buries her face into the crook of your neck. Her breaths come in short, trembling gasps against your skin, as if she is teetering on the edge of a precipice. “It was… sudden. Painful,” she speaks into your shoulder “They were just—gone.” Her voice cracks on the word, as if she could not comprehend the ambiguity of their absence. Her grip on you tightens, but you do not pull away. She needs this—needs you. You press a lingering kiss to her head, one hand moving to scratch softly at her scalp. You feel her relax a little, her own hands holding you snugly against her; the tension bleeding out of her as she moves impossibly closer to you. She feels her grief rise to the surface, and your touch soothes the urgency; elucidating the chaos of her agony and yearning into a streamlined notion. “I miss them,” she chokes out, the words nearly lost against your skin.
You nod softly in understanding, nudging her temple with your nose to coax her from your neck. “Sevika?” you ask softly against her hair before she raises her head, her eyes wet with unshed tears. You plant a kiss to her forehead, keeping her close to you before speaking lowly, “You know— it’s okay to talk about them…” you encourage carefully. Her hands tremble before finding stability in her hold on you. She nods wordlessly into your shoulder before inhaling deeply, grounding herself as she leans into your touch, your presence. You can feel the weight of her grief as she holds close to you, seeking comfort in your arms.
For a few more moments, she is silent; the only sounds are the lapping of the sea against the earth and the distant call of seagulls. Then, her voice fills the space between you; a tender confession in a hushed, hesitant tone— “I still expect to hear Isha’s laughter sometimes…” There is a wistful sadness to her words as she continues, “and… when I wake up in the mornings, before I’m fully awake, I catch myself rolling over to look for her…” Her shoulders sag slightly, the heaviness of the loss settling on her “Kiddo hated sleeping alone, couldn’t stand to be away from me or Jinx very long…” She swallows thickly, pulling back a little to look at you. “Then it hits me that she won’t be there, but for those first few moments, I can’t help but hope.” Sevika looks at you gingerly; almost as if she is gauging your reaction—vulnerable and feeling uncertain if it is okay to continue. When you move to clutch onto her forearms gently, reassuring her, she relaxes, and speaks again “I…often wonder about her parents. I don’t even know if they’re around or… if they know…” She struggles, her brows furrowed as she moves to clasp your wrists in her hands. Sevika shakes her head and sighs. “She had Jinx, and she had me, and I know she was far from the only orphaned kid in Zaun, but I grew to—” Sevika swallowed again, tears finally spilling over her eyelids. “I loved her,” she says simply, her voice strained.
You let her rub her thumbs over your wrists in an attempt to ground herself as you press your forehead to hers. “Oh, Sev…” you murmur softly. Her eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch of your forehead against hers.
She lets out a weary breath. “It’s the small things…” she murmurs, her voice wavering as she cries. “I found one of Isha’s hair ties with some of our old things from before the Last Drop burned down. For a second, I thought she was still here, running around with one braid undone somewhere.” She drops your wrists and coils in on herself, holding her head in her hands as she cries. “I used to find her hair ties everywhere, in the oddest places, after Jinx would un-braid her hair at the end of the day,” she says with a trembling voice, “When I found that one…I just… for a second I just convinced myself it was a sign—proof that she was still around. Somewhere,” Sevika says desperately, sucking in a shaky breath. Your hands move to hold her wrists, leaning to kiss her head, tears pricking at your eyes now as you see her break down.
“And Jinx—” she murmurs, her voice hoarse, as if her heart is being torn apart all over again. “It’s the not-knowing that kills me. Not knowing if she’s alive, or if she’s in pain, or....” She breaks off, her voice catching in her throat. Sevika lowers her head, covering her face with her hands. “And the thought that she could be out there alone, hurting, and dealing with the aftermath of everything… It’s unbearable.” She shakes her head. “I still find her drawings all over the place.” Sevika’s words falter, and another wave of grief crashes over her, consuming her. You feel her body tremble, and you reach out, gently coaxing her to let go of her head and lean against you instead. As Sevika allows herself to sink against you, her head nestling into the crook of your shoulder, she continues quietly, her voice strained. “I still find her gadgets everywhere. She left so many things behind…” she says, her words a raw declaration of her continued struggle with the suffocating absence of those lost to her. Sevika closes her eyes, savoring the moment of closeness as your forehead rests against hers.
You can feel the tension in her body, the subtle tremors that escape in the slight unsteadiness of her breaths. She leans into you, as if seeking reassurance in your presence. “I miss my girls…” she chokes out, her voice thick with emotion. A deep sob racks Sevika’s body as she recounts the memories, her shoulders shuddering as she desperately tries to cling onto whatever shreds of composure she has left. But her grief is relentless, and it rips through her as she cries. “I want them back,” she whimpers, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want them back so badly.” You tug her close to you, murmuring soft affirmations in her ear. Your fingers swipe gently at her tears, her hair sticking to her face loosely from a combination of the humid air and her teardrops pooling in the crease of her nostril. “I just don’t know what to do with myself when it feels like this…” she trails off, her tear streaked cheeks slipping against your skin as she turns to nose below your jaw, breathing in your scent to ground herself to the present moment.
You ponder silently for a while, letting her cry, knowing that, as much as you wished Sevika would allow herself to simply sit in these emotions and feel them, she’d much rather channel the energy of those emotions towards something she attributed to be more meaningful.
You coo gently, hands moving to cup her face; bringing your lips to meet hers softly before speaking— “What could we do to honor them?” Sevika’s eyes flutter up to meet yours, her eyelashes clinging to one another from her still leaking tear ducts.
“Honor them?” she asks, hesitant curiosity playing on her features.
You nod. “Honor them. How can we celebrate them? How can we reflect fondly on what they mean to you?” you question, kissing her nose.
Her eyes flicker with concentration, her hands moving to caress your elbows, before she sighs; “Piltover isn’t going to erect a statue in Jinx’s honor—” she starts bitterly before you cut her off,
“Fuck Piltover, I’m talking about something for you,” you soothe, watching the corner of her mouth twitch into a smirk at your cursing of topside. She shakes her head affectionately.
“What would that even look like, sugar?” she asks softly, genuinely interested in whatever rituals you had to propose.
You smile at her tenderly. “Anything,” you explain, “you could share stories and memories of your time with them, we could eat their favorite foods, visit a place that is special to them…” you rattle off, gauging her reaction. The sun had slowly risen just above the horizon line; the belt of venus a thick band bursting the low hanging clouds and Sevika’s pale irises into pink hues. Sevika was smiling softly, but her eyes seemed distant, and you worry you had suggested something harmful, or at the very least, something she had no interest in doing. “I’m sorry—” you start, letting your hands drop from her face to fidget in your lap. Sevika moves to close her palms over yours, skin sticky from the salted air. She shushes you gently, bringing your hands to her mouth and brushing her lips over your knuckles.
“Isha loved to dip her apple slices in honey…” she says thoughtfully, her cheeks rosy as she talks. “Jinx was teaching me how to draw… always talked about making our own mural in the Lanes after she found out about the one at the Firelights’ base…” she recalls. You nod in understanding, watching her delicate touches on your hand as she speaks. “Maybe the mural could be part of honoring them both…” she murmurs, earning a nod from you.
“ You know,” you say, moving one of your hands to sweep her hair from her eyes and cup her cheek, “I’m sure Ekko would help,” you suggest.
Sevika smiles at you. “Yeah, would probably be good for the kid, too…he loved her, even when she was hell bent on pushing him away,” she remembers.
You lean into her carefully, the sand that clung to your thigh brushing off when her hands move to shift your legs into her lap, holding you sideways against her and kissing repeatedly at your temple. “I love you.” she whispers. You blush, nuzzling your cheek against hers. You both sit in a comfortable silence, eyes closed, listening to the sound of waves fizzing into the shoreline’s silken sand.
“I love you too, Sev,” you sigh, eyelids snapping open when you feel Sevika stand up with you in her arms. A squeak escapes you, hands scrambling to find purchase on her shoulders. She chuckles, adjusting you before moving to carry you through the Spanish-moss-shrouded path leading back to the small beach house you were staying in. “We don’t have to rush into doing anything— we have time—” you reassure her, worried you had somehow instilled a sense of urgency in her; but you couldn't be more wrong.
You watch her features relax. “I know. Right now, I just want to spend time loving you,” she says; content. You relax against her, studying her with adoration; mesmerized by the way the blue of her scar waved under the small, porcelain facets on her cheeks. She catches you staring, smirking down at you before leaning to kiss your forehead. Your heart flutters, and you knew you would spend as much time as she needed to sit with her in this grief; to help her however you could.