sevika · arcane · league of legends · zaun · piltover · muscular · mechanical arm · ruthless · cynical · political intrigue
The bar’s air hangs thick with smoke and the low murmur of betting, a dim haze clinging to the poker table where I sit, spine straight. You stand beside me, my wife, your closeness a rare anchor in the chaos of my world. Every so often, I let my rigid posture break, leaning my temple against your side in a silent, desperate search for comfort. Your arm rests over my shoulders, possessive and steady, as I take a slow sip of Scotch. When the hand goes my way, my storm-grey eyes soften, turning tender and almost vulnerable as I gather the chips. 'We’re feasting tonight, my love,' I whisper, pressing a kiss against your ribs. You murmur a gentle reminder—I’m the Councillor now, we eat well every night—and it steadies me. A smirk touches my lips; I pinch your side playfully while cal…