Soft curls of jasmine-scented steam rise from the warm bathwater. Mel brushes a damp curl away from her face, sinking further down into the deep bath with a small sigh.
It feels wonderful, of course. Her staff had carefully prepared the bath with jasmine oil and rose petals, sprinkled with a bit of epsom salt – the perfect remedy to soothe her aching muscles. Warmed towels are laid out on the counter for her, and her softest silk nightgown waits on a hanger on the door. And yet, she still finds herself not quite able to enjoy it.
She can’t completely relax, not even like this. She feels idle and self-indulgent, two things she was raised to never be. She still wishes to be working, even with the burning pain in her throat and the congestion in her head. She wouldn’t have left the council offices at all, if it weren’t for the other council members’ strong “encouragement” that she go home and rest. It’s true that she wouldn’t want to be around herself right now either, not with her continual coughing and irrepressible sneezing. But she still finds it so distasteful that something so small and inconsequential as a virus has the ability to knock her off her feet and disrupt her entire schedule. Surely she should be stronger than it.
But the return of her cough reminds her that she is not, in fact, able to out-will a head cold. She groans, taking a sip of water from the glass on the side of the black-marble tub. Perhaps someone should simply put her out of her misery. What use is she like this, anyway?
The sound of heavy boots on the tile interrupts her self-pity spiral. Sevika, still wrapped in her burgundy cloak, turns the corner of the large bathroom, spotting Mel soaking in the deep tub in the corner of the room. Sevika’s lips curve with a smirk, and she sheds her cloak in one smooth motion, revealing her impressive arms – one flesh, one metal – that Mel is so fond of.
“A bath in the middle of the day?” Sevika sits down on a small stool next to the bath, giving her a knowing look. “Either someone died or you’re sick.”
“I rather feel like I’m dying, if that counts,” Mel sighs, suppressing another cough.
Sevika chuckles, but her silvery eyes are soft. She starts stroking a hand through Mel’s steam-damp curls. “You wake up like this?”
“Mm, it’s been worsening over the day,” Mel says half-heartedly, lifting a shoulder. She tilts her head back to rest against the edge of the tub, closing her eyes. “I was at the council earlier but Shoola managed to bully me into going home.”
Mel hums when Sevika’s soft lips press against her forehead, lingering. Checking for warmth in the same way she always does when Mel is unwell. It shouldn’t make Mel feel as fond as it does.
“And you didn’t call me because…?” Sevika asks, voice low and patient.
Mel cracks her eyes open. “Because it’s nothing. You had business in Zaun.”
“You runnin’ a fever isn’t nothing, baby.”
“It’s the warmth of the bath,” Mel dismisses, waving a hand. “I’m fine.”
Sevika lets out a deep sigh, giving Mel a searching look. Then she stands and wordlessly sheds her clothes, Mel admiring the impressive sight of the woman in front of her. She scoots up in the tub to make room, letting Sevika climb in and pull her in to rest against her bare chest. Even through her stuffy nose, Mel can smell Sevika’s familiar cigar-smoke scent, and it soothes something aching in her chest. The water splashes faintly around them, rose peltals brushing against their skin. Mel curls up into Sevika, head resting on her strong shoulder. Sevika traces gentle patterns on her thigh with her non-metal hand.
“Tell me,” Sevika commands, her voice a low rumble in Mel’s ear. She kisses her temple, then her hair, waiting.
Sometimes Mel wonders what it would be like if Sevika didn’t know her as well as she does. If she couldn’t read Mel like an open book, easily picking up on her shifting tides of emotions. If she didn’t note every pinch of Mel’s eyebrows, every twitch of her lips. She’s never felt so laid bare in her life. But as much as it terrifies her, it also feels like coming home.
Mel contemplates not saying anything. But then Sevika rubs her arm in a slow, soothing stroke, and just like that, all of her walls dissolve away like sand between her fingers.
“I don’t like being like this,” Mel admits, curling further into the woman holding her close.
“I know.” Sevika rubs her hip, silently encouraging her to continue.
“I feel as though I should be doing more. Being more, perhaps,” Mel sighs, then coughs into her shoulder. “It’s hard to imagine my mother laid up like this. I doubt she ever took a single sick day in her life.”
“You’re enough, doll.” Sevika kisses Mel’s temple again. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re allowed to be human sometimes.”
“I don’t wish to be,” Mel turns to Sevika with a wistful smile. “There is still so much I want to do for Piltover, for Zaun. So many wrongs to right.”
Sevika tightens her arms around her, briefly nuzzling their noses together. “And you will. When you’re well. For now, you just rest and let me hold you. The city’s not gonna come crumbling down because you took a day off, baby.”
“It feels as though it might,” Mel huffs, sinking further into the other woman’s arms.
“Eh, there might be some minor chaos,” Sevika chuckles, reaching for the water glass when Mel coughs again. “A few mishaps. Some angry council members. But they’ll survive without you.”
“Maybe I’ll see if I’m up for some paperwork later,” Mel hums, after drinking some water. Then she sneezes, groaning afterward. “If my body will let me.”
“No, that’s not what you’re going to do.”
“Oh, it isn’t?” Mel turns to look at Sevika, raising an eyebrow. “What am I going to do, then?”
“You’re going to soak in this ridiculous bath until you go all pruney,” Sevika smiles, brushing a lock of hair out of Mel’s eyes. “You’re going to get all relaxed and sleepy and I’m going to carry you to bed. Then you’re going to let me take your temp and give you some medicine. And then you’re going to whine at me about how terrible your cold is for the rest of the night while I feed you soup and tea and hold you until you fall asleep in my arms.”
Mel laughs softly, placing a hand on Sevika’s jaw, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone. “You have this all planned out, apparently.”
“I do.” Sevika gives Mel a chaste kiss. “Let me take care of you, doll.”
Mel lets Sevika guide her head back down to her shoulder, softening. “Just for tonight,” she whispers, kissing Sevika’s sternum.
“For tonight,” Sevika echos with a grin, tucking Mel’s head under her chin.
Guys, I need help. I'm in the passenger seat of the car on my way home and I've got about a half-hour left and I'm suddenly really sick. I've never been motion sick in my life, and I've done this drive a million times before. Is it possible to just randomly get motion sickness after all this time? I already threw up in a gas station bathroom which was humiliating, and I don't think I'll make it home without having my brother pull over. I don't know if I'm suddenly coming down with something...
summary: sevika is learning that it's alright to accept a little tenderness, now and then. melvika sickfic, 4k
a/n: more melvika! finally wrote some sick sev as much requested. I combined two requests for this one: “Couldn’t you keep your cold to yourself?” / “You’ve infected me” and "I don't like the sound of that cough." / "You sound like you're catching a cold."
The air in the sunroom is warm and thick, permeated with the smell of menthol and ginger tea. Sevika tugs at the collar of her shirt with her flesh hand, a steaming mug held in her metal one. She’s too hot, the air is almost stifling in here between the afternoon sun filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the fire burning steadily in the hearth, but she doesn’t even think about complaining. The sunroom is Mel’s favorite room to lounge in, and she always gets a chill deep in her bones whenever she’s sick, so Sevika has been keeping the room warm and Mel wrapped in a thick blanket. Sevika will do anything to make Mel comfortable — even if it means sweating through her shirt.
“More tea, baby,” Sevika murmurs, carefully setting the mug on the coffee table and sitting down next to Mel.
“Thank you.” Mel’s voice has been reduced to a hoarse, congested wisp of a sound, and Sevika finds herself giving a sympathetic hum, pressing her lips to Mel’s temple.
“You need anything else?” Sevika’s chest aches faintly as she studies Mel’s face, her eyes lingering on the purplish bags under Mel’s eyes and the deep red of her irritated nose. Sevika’s always been on the protective side when it comes to Mel, even though the mage is a force to be reckoned with in her own right. But when she’s down for the count like this, worn thin by a head cold, all Sevika wants to do is hold her close until she’s well again.
“No, I’m –” Mel starts to answer, then pitches forward with a sudden sneeze, quickly followed by several more. Sevika leans back slightly to avoid getting caught in the line of fire.
“Bless you,” Sevika says with a hint of a chuckle, reaching for a handkerchief. “You know I love you, sweet thing, but I would really prefer if you kept this cold to yourself. Here.” She hands over the white cloth, which Mel accepts with a sigh and buries her nose into it.
“Sorry, darling, it came out of nowhere,” Mel grimaces from behind the handkerchief pressed to her face. She blows her nose, although it doesn’t sound like it helps much with her congestion. “I hope you don’t catch this,” Mel adds, before she’s caught off guard by her breath catching on a cough. She hastily buries her face in her elbow, and Sevika rubs her back, patiently waiting for the fit to ease.
“Sorry,” Mel repeats when she’s finished, grimacing slightly, her dark eyelashes coated with irritated tears.
Sevika frowns in concern, brushing a hand over Mel’s curls that are loose and pooling around her shoulders. “You’re fine, doll, I’m just teasing. I know you can’t help it.” She kisses her cheek, then holds a glass of water to Mel’s lips. “Drink.”
Mel takes a few sips of water before pulling away, wearily resting her head on Sevika’s shoulder. Sevika scoots closer so that Mel can be more comfortable, wrapping an arm around her blanket-clad shoulders.
She’ll hold her love for as long as she needs, germs be damned.
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A few days later, after innumerable cups of tea and long nights Sevika stays up trying to help Mel ease her symptoms long enough to get some proper rest, Mel is finally more or less recovered. She’s still a little tired and she has a lingering cough, but she’s looking more like her usual self, much to Sevika’s relief.
The morning sun glints off the gold tattoos running from Mel’s neck to the tips of her fingers, catching the light as she lifts her arm to add a touch of crimson to the large canvas in front of her. Sevika idly watches her from a chaise lounge nearby. It’s her usual spot when Mel paints, and she can easily spend hours out here, content to watch Mel flit around a canvas four times her size, slowly filling the white with a riot of color. The promise of a slow, peaceful day lies ahead, and Sevika can feel herself sinking into the soft cushions of the chaise, her eyes dropping shut.
Although she never minds looking after Mel, the long days and nights spent worrying over Mel’s fever, running her baths, making her tea and soup, and doing anything she can to help her feel better, have taken a toll. There’s a dull, angry ache in Sevika’s left shoulder, making the muscles there tight and sending tendrils of pain radiating up through her neck and down her back. She rolls her shoulder with a small groan, considering whether she should take her prosthetic off.
Even though she knows she’s perfectly safe here with Mel, lazing about this mansion that doubles as a fortress, it still makes her uneasy to be without her metal arm. Sure, Sevika can handle herself fine with one arm – she’s taken out plenty of goons in the undercity with just one good fist. But she likes the security her metal arm brings her, that sense of being in control, undefeatable. It’s not a feeling she’s willing to give up lightly.
“Are you alright, love?” Mel’s voice is smooth as silk, laced with soft concern. Sevika opens her eyes to see Mel frowning over at her, palette balanced on her left arm, a brush held aloft in her right.
“Fine,” Sevika says, rolling her shoulder again. “A little tired, maybe.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a handful, these past few days.” Mel sets aside her palette and comes over to the chaise, her long dress swishing with each step. “You’ve taken such excellent care of me, it’s no wonder you’re worn out.” She sits down next to Sevika and runs a hand through her hair, and Sevika’s eyes automatically close at the soothing touch.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Sevika mumbles, letting Mel guide her head down so that she’s laying in the other woman’s lap, Mel’s long fingers still carding through her hair. “I never mind taking care of you.”
“Nor do I, darling,” Mel hums, scratching her nails against Sevika’s scalp.
There’s an itch just under Sevika’s skin, a nagging thought at the back of her mind. Whenever she lets Mel softly tend to her like this, whether it be a hand in her hair or a bowl of daal Mel made just for her, there’s always a part of her that feels like it isn’t quite right.
Before she met Mel, Sevika had spent her whole life building walls. Her heart was guarded, her skin thick. She knew her job and she did it. She was the muscle, the unshakeable right-hand woman who stopped at nothing to do what needed to be done. Comfort, affection, tenderness – these aren’t things she’s experienced since she was a child. Her closed-door romps at Babette’s were simply a way to relieve tension and to have a warm body next to hers for a while. She never needed or even wanted more than that. Until Mel.
Bit by bit, Mel had unspooled the tangle of barbed wires around Sevika’s heart. There’s just something in Mel so soft, so genuine, that had wrapped around Sevika like the warmth of fire on a cold winter’s day. She found herself easing into a gentler way of life with Mel, no longer needing to be on alert at all hours of the day.
Sevika treasures her relationship with Mel more than anything. And Sevika protects what she treasures. So she’s dedicated to taking care of Mel, to making sure she’s comfortable, that she has what she needs. To soothe Mel’s aches, dry her tears, hold her the whole night through – Sevika considers these her cherished duties, and it makes her happy to do it. And although it feels nice to receive the same in return, there’s still a small, stubborn part of her that wants to curl away from Mel’s touch, to put her walls back up. Sevika is a provider, a protector. That’s where she’s comfortable. Sometimes the vulnerability that comes with being seen feels like almost too much to bear.
“Care to share what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
Sevika cracks an eye open. Mel is gazing down at her, emerald green eyes questioning, her fingers still moving in soothing, repetitive strokes through Sevika’s hair.
“Nothing.” Sevika reaches for Mel’s hand and brings it to her lips, pressing a kiss to her soft, paint-flecked palm. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Mel echoes, gently tracing a finger down the winding path of Sevika’s scars.
Sevika lets her eyes fall closed again and leans into the warmth of Mel’s touch. It may be slightly unfamiliar, but she aches for it just the same.
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It’s only later, when she’s in the kitchen with Mel, the two of them cooking dinner together in their usual nightly routine, that Sevika begins to realize she might be more than just tired.
The ache that had started in her left shoulder has blossomed and spread, leaving all her muscles tense and her joints stiff. She feels like she can’t find the right temperature either – she’s too hot with her jacket on, too chilled with it off. There’s also an annoying itch in her head that keeps making her reflexively clear her throat and scrub at her nose.
“I can do the rice, if you do the vegetables,” Mel says, glancing over her shoulder. She’s at the stove stirring a simmering pot of peppered chicken that’s filling the kitchen with the mouthwatering smell of garlic, onion and tomatoes. Sevika is always eternally grateful she ended up with a woman who can cook.
“Sure.” Sevika taps Mel lightly on the ass, which earns her a surprised yelp, and heads over to grab a knife and cutting board.
Mel had helped her live-in cook find a new job not long after Sevika moved in. The two of them share a love for cooking, and they especially enjoy doing it together. It didn’t take long to realize that they preferred to prepare their meals in tandem rather than having them served, especially Sevika, who still finds the concept of being waited on distasteful. Sevika loves these nights they spend together whipping up perfectly spiced curries and stews, and it’s become a solid part of their routine together by now.
Tonight, however, Sevika is slightly distracted by the general sense of discomfort that has settled over her body, slowing her movements. Her nose starts to run as she washes the vegetables in the sink, and she gives a few hearty sniffles to try and clear it. But that seems to worsen the burning itch in her sinuses, and it’s not long before she has to twist to direct a loud sneeze over her shoulder.
There’s a clatter as Mel jumps and drops the wooden spoon she was holding, her hand coming to her chest. “Goodness! Bless you, darling,” she exclaims, turning to Sevika.
Sevika nods her thanks, giving another thick sniffle and returning to the task at hand. Mel doesn’t seem to think much of it, because she returns to her cooking as well, swaying along to the jazz song on the record player.
But there’s a definite stuffiness in Sevika’s head now, and the sneezing leaves her throat feeling irritated and raw. As she dries the vegetables and starts chopping, she briefly wonders whether she could be getting sick. But that seems implausible. She hardly ever catches colds, unlike Mel – she can’t even remember the last time she was truly sick. It’s probably just the spice in the air, or maybe the change of seasons from winter to spring that’s bothering her.
Dinner comes together quickly and they sit down at the polished wood dining table to eat. Even though the chicken is delicious, Sevika finds herself uncharacteristically without an appetite, picking at her food, and chugging water in an attempt to soothe her throat.
Mel is telling her something about the next council meeting and an agenda she’s looking for support on, but Sevika is having a hard time focusing. Her head feels too heavy and foggy, so she props it up with an elbow on the table, resisting the urge to close her eyes. She’s suddenly longing to be in bed.
“Darling? Are you alright?” Mel asks softly, and Sevika sluggishly lifts her head.
“Fine,” Sevika grunts. But not a second later, she’s ducking into her shoulder for a throat-scraping sneeze that makes her head pound miserably. A second harsh sneeze follows in quick succession.
“Oh, my love. Bless you.” Mel’s at Sevika’s side in an instant, rubbing circles between Sevika’s shoulder blades. “I don’t like the sound of that at all.”
Sevika snorts to try and clear her nose, which makes Mel grimace slightly. Sevika knows full well that Mel hates when she does that, but she can hardly breathe through her nose now.
“Hold on,” Mel says, kissing the top of Sevika’s head and hurrying off. When she returns, it’s with a thick cotton handkerchief, which she presses into Sevika’s hands. “Use this, please.”
Sevika gives her a gruff thanks and blows her nose loudly. She’s never been one for trying to be polite about these things. No, what she wants is to be able to breathe, damn it, so she does her best to clear her stuffed sinuses.
Mel stands next to her and rubs her back while she cleans herself up, and there’s a deep frown creasing Mel’s perfectly shaped eyebrows when Sevika finally finishes and looks up at her.
“Poor darling. You sound like you’re catching a cold,” Mel murmurs, laying the back of her hand against Sevika’s forehead to check her temperature.
“Your cold,” Sevika corrects, massaging her eyes. “I think you infected me.” She shoots Mel a wry look, although there’s no real heat behind it.
“I’m sorry, love.” Mel plants a soft kiss on Sevika’s forehead. “I did my best to not pass it along.”
“You were clinging to me day and night,” Sevika scoffs, raising her eyebrows. “Hardly could get up to go to the bathroom, what with how you were wrapped around me.”
Mel’s cheeks darken ever so slightly. “You didn’t seem to mind! When have you ever cared about catching my colds?” she protests, huffing.
Sevika chuckles, then coughs roughly. “I didn’t, and I don’t,” she soothes with a grin, reaching a hand up to cup Mel’s cheek, who leans into the touch. “I’m just messing with you. It’s fine, doll.”
In one smooth motion, Mel sits down in Sevika’s lap, looping her arms around the taller woman’s neck. Sevika’s hands come to her hips automatically to steady her, heart fond at the soft, perfect feeling of Mel in her lap.
“Well, since I got you sick, it’s my duty to nurse you back to health,” Mel announces, catching Sevika’s lips in a gentle kiss. “It’s my turn to dote on you.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a smile playing on the corners of her mouth.
Sevika groans. “I hate doting. Just let me sleep ‘till this thing clears up, that’s what I always do. I’ll be fine in a day or two.”
“Sorry darling.” Mel brushes a kiss to Sevika’s cheek, then pulls back with a coy grin. “You are getting fussed over. It comes with the territory, and I won’t hear otherwise.”
“I’m going to hate this,” Sevika mutters, and Mel gives a bright, soft laugh that tinkles like windchimes.
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Sevika sits down heavily on the side of their massive bed, her joints protesting the movement. She drops her head to her hands with a quiet sigh, rubbing at her temples. Her head is aching, along with the rest of her body, and she feels wrung out, like all of her energy has been squeezed out of her.
The mattress dips with Mel’s weight, and a hand comes to her neck, massaging with gentle pressure. Mel kisses her shoulder, right at the end of the stump that’s exposed now that Sevika’s removed her prosthetic, lips as soft as rose petals.
“My darling,” Mel murmurs, and Sevika should hate it, the way Mel’s voice is dripping with honeyed concern. But instead, her heart is fond. “You poor thing. I hate that I got you so ill.”
Sevika lifts a shoulder, too exhausted to even protest that she doesn’t feel that bad. She’s tired of fighting it, the way Mel’s soft words and even softer touch flow over her like a soothing balm, filling the jagged cracks in her heart.
She leans away from Mel slightly to muffle a chesty cough in her shoulder, groaning afterward at the pain flaring just behind her sternum. Everything just hurts right now.
But Mel is there, her hand smoothing over the valleys and plains of Sevika’s tense shoulders, bringing comfort with each stroke of her palm.
“Let me run a bath for you.” Mel’s voice is low and soothing, and she presses a whisper of a kiss to Sevika’s cheek. “You’re so tense, Vika. And the steam will help you breathe better. Would you like some tea as well, for your throat?”
And Mel is just so fucking gentle is the thing, stroking Sevika’s back like she’s something delicate, not a woman who’s fought and hunted and hurt. It makes a thick knot of emotion rise in her throat, and she swallows hard, blinking away the burn in her eyes.
“I should just sleep.” Sevika can’t quite meet Mel’s eyes, not when the concerned, tender green of them might send tears spilling over her own cheeks. She sniffles, then sneezes suddenly, and dissolves into a fit of coughing after – a mess of all sorts.
“Oh, honey,” Mel tuts, reaching for one of the handkerchiefs she had laid out on the bedside table. Yet another kindness that Sevika isn’t sure she deserves. “You sound awful, darling. Let me help, please. I want to take care of you.”
“I don’t –” Sevika draws in a deep breath, focuses on letting it out slowly. Her throat bobs as she swallows down the lump again. “I don’t need…all this.” She waves a dispassionate hand at the medicines and supplies laid out next to the bed, Mel’s warm presence at her side. “I’ll be fine on my own.”
There’s a long moment of silence. Sevika wonders if Mel will leave, if she’ll spend the night tossing in a bed that’s too big and empty. It’s what she wants, isn’t it? To bear this moment of vulnerability alone, to sleep until she’s well enough to provide, to protect. Like this…weak, sick, what is she really worth, after all?
“You’re not on your own any longer, my love,” Mel finally murmurs. She wraps an arm around Sevika’s waist, shifting closer and brushing Sevika’s cropped hair to the side so she can press a kiss to her neck. “I’m right here, Vika.” Mel tucks her face into the dip between Sevika’s neck and shoulder, voice low and warm against her skin. “I love you, and I’m right here.”
Sevika kisses the top of Mel’s hair, burying her face in the soft, tight, curls. Her nose is too stuffed to smell the shea and coconut of Mel’s hair, but the brush of curls against her skin is familiar just the same. “And do you –” Sevika swallows, lets her words muffle into the fluff of Mel’s hair. “Do you still want me, like this?”
Mel pulls back and Sevika lifts her head to meet her gaze. Mel’s eyebrows are knitted together, confusion on her face. “Like what, darling?”
Sevika rubs at her nose with a fist, looking away. “Weak.” Her voice cracks on the word.
“Sevika.” Mel brings her hands to either side of Sevika’s face, cupping her cheeks and forcing her eyes back on her. Sevika snaps out of her spiral a little at her full name, which Mel never uses.
“You listen to me, my love,” Mel says sternly, holding Sevika’s gaze steadily. Her forest-green eyes shine with a burning resolve, and the air between them feels electrified, sparking with a hint of Mel’s magic. “I love you, always. When you’re sick, when you’re well; when you’re strong, when you can’t be strong. None of that changes how I feel about you. Ever. You’re the strongest person I know, but you don’t have to be. Not with me. I don’t love you for your strength, darling. I love you for your heart.”
Mel taps Sevika’s chest, then presses a kiss right over her heart. She looks back up at her, eyes shining more gold than green. “Got it?”
Sevika brushes a thumb under her eye. And maybe the pad of her finger is wet with a tear, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Alright,” Sevika murmurs, pulling Mel into her for a long, tender kiss. She’s always been better with touch than words. “Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Mel beams up at her, shining bright as the sun, and Sevika can’t believe this is the woman she gets to spend every morning waking up next to. “Now let’s see about that bath.”
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Sevika lets out a long, satisfied groan. Mel shifts to get a better angle, applying even more pressure to Sevika’s shoulder. She massages deep into Sevika’s muscles with her knuckles, slowly and patiently working out all the coils of tension.
“You are so fucking good at this,” Sevika mumbles, turning her head to the side to glance behind her. She’s laying in bed splayed out on her front while Mel straddles her from behind, massaging her back. “How are you so perfect?”
“I’m far from perfect,” Mel laughs softly, moving down to work a knot just under Sevika’s shoulder blade with the heel of her hand. “You just spent the past week listening to me sniffle and cough at you, surely you know that.”
“Mm, even your sniffles are perfect,” Sevika hums, face pressed into the mattress, then gives a cough of her own.
Mel chuckles again. “Just relax, darling. You’re still too tense.” She deepens the pressure, putting her full weight into her hand, which elicits a satisfied groan.
Sevika lets herself sink further into the bed, her thoughts going hazy as Mel massages away the aches that have been plaguing her all day. A long, hot bath had helped ease her congestion and loosen her muscles, and Mel insisted on following it up with a massage in bed.
Sevika can vaguely smell the soothing aroma of lavender as Mel scoops more lotion out of the jar she had procured from her massive collection of creams and oils. The cool feel of the lotion on her back sends a pleasant shiver through Sevika’s shoulders, and Mel’s hands are tender as she works the cream into Sevika’s skin.
It’s still unfamiliar, this gentleness, this care. And a part of Sevika still wants to fight it, wants to reject Mel’s tenderness in the name of self-reliance. She doesn’t need it, after all – she would fare just fine without Mel’s warm massages or cups of honeyed tea. But maybe, just maybe, it’s not so bad to want it.
So she lets Mel tend to her and work every inch of her muscles until she’s a loose puddle of limbs splayed in the bed. She lets Mel bring her fresh handkerchiefs, lets her take her temperature and fuss at her mild fever. She doesn’t protest the stroke of Mel’s fingers through her hair, doesn’t resist Mel pulling her into her own arms.
And finally, Sevika lets herself fall asleep wrapped in Mel’s warm, steady embrace. For once, she’s no longer trying to be strong.
Sevika discovers she and Mel have vastly different ideas of appropriate sick-day clothing.
fandom: arcane ~ sickie: mel ~ wc: 1k
prompts from @feveruary
Sevika raises an eyebrow from behind her cup of coffee when Mel sneezes for what must be at least the tenth time since they woke up this morning. She watches Mel putter around the huge kitchen, moving unusually clumsily and sniffling into a handkerchief as she goes.
“You sure you don’t want to stay home today?” Sevika asks, not for the first time. She’s been trying to convince Mel to stay home from the council all morning. Not that she’s had any success.
“I’m fine,” Mel says, even though she’s already losing her voice. She coughs, then resumes making her cup of tea. “It’ll pass.”
Sevika highly doubts that, but she also knows better than to argue with Mel when she’s determined to be stubborn.
With a sigh, Sevika downs the rest of her coffee and pushes to her feet. She comes over to Mel and drops a kiss to her forehead, then touches her palm to her skin. She’s at least relieved that Mel doesn’t seem to have a fever, or else they’d really be in for an argument.
“Don’t work too hard, baby,” Sevika murmurs, wrapping Mel up in her arms and holding her close. “And wear something warm, alright?”
Mel nods into her shoulder, still sniffling softly. A surge of protectiveness rises in Sevika’s chest, and she has half a mind to cancel her entire day’s plans and just keep Mel close to her all day, tucked up into a blanket.
But Mel is free to make her own choices, and Sevika won’t stand in her way. She kisses Mel’s temple, says goodbye, and hopes for the best.
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Sevika gets home before Mel, as usual. After changing out of her day clothes and into something more comfortable, she heads to the kitchen to get dinner started. Maybe a curry tonight, she muses, since that’s easy and quick. And Mel will probably want something warm – it’s been a gray and chilly day, the wind bitingly cold.
Onion and garlic are sizzling away on the stove, filling the house with their enticing aroma, by the time that Sevika hears the front door open. She wipes her hands on a dish towel and hangs it over her shoulder, heading into the foyer to greet Mel.
Sevika expects to find Mel tired, especially considering how she was this morning.
What she does not expect, however, is to find Mel standing in the front entryway in a thin silk dress, shivering so hard that her teeth are chattering.
Sevika takes one look at her before immediately stripping off her own wool cardigan and wrapping Mel in it. She sucks her teeth disapprovingly as she snakes an arm around Mel’s shoulders and tugs her over to the couch.
“I thought I told you to wear something warm,” Sevika chastises, gently pushing Mel to sit down on the couch and draping a blanket over her. “Doll. Are you trying to give yourself pneumonia?”
Mel answers with a sharp sneeze, followed by a groan. She tries to say something but only manages to dissolve into a coughing fit, hunched over into the blanket.
Sevika feels a little like tearing her hair out. Instead, she strides to the kitchen and fills a glass with water, bringing it back to Mel.
She sits down next to Mel, who’s still coughing, and rubs her back slowly in firm circles. Her heart clenches as she waits for Mel to recover from the fit. She hates seeing Mel like this and can’t help feeling guilty she didn’t try harder to keep Mel home today.
When the coughing subsides, Sevika holds the glass of water to her lips, encouraging her to take a few small sips. Mel drinks and clears her throat, nodding that she’s had enough.
Sevika sets the glass aside and pulls Mel into her, tucking the blanket tighter around her. She buries her face in Mel’s locs, breathing her in for a moment, holding her close.
She kisses the crown of Mel’s head, then pulls back to see her face. “Are you alright?” Sevika asks, voice low. She thumbs an irritated tear off Mel’s cheek, frowning. “Gods, you worried me.”
“Sorry,” Mel croaks, rubbing her nose and sniffling. Sevika hands her a tissue, and Mel blows her nose. “I’m really not as bad as I sound.”
Sevika sighs, kissing her hair again. Instead of arguing, she rubs Mel’s shoulder and tightens her hold on her. “Let’s get you warmed up and into bed,” she murmurs. “I’ll get a bath going. Do you have a fever?”
Mel presses her hand to her own cheek, frowning. “I don’t think so…?”
Sevika reaches up to check for herself, and clicks her tongue when she feels the heat radiating off the other woman. “I think you do, baby. I’ll get you some meds. You just rest, okay?”
Mel nods, her green eyes tired and pink-rimmed. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, wincing slightly. “I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.”
“Don’t apologize for getting sick, doll.” Sevika presses her lips to her temple, then stands. She smirks slightly. “Besides, I should have known our definitions of weather-appropriate clothing would be completely different.”
Mel pouts slightly, coughing. She holds out her arms, which are covered in the navy silk of her dress. “It’s long-sleeved, at least!”
Sevika raises her eyebrows. “Your shoulders are completely bare,” she notes, her voice dry.
Mel glances down at the off-the-shoulder silhouette. “Well, I was only outside for a bit, in any case.”
“Honestly, for someone so smart, you are so ridiculous sometimes,” Sevika snorts, shaking her head. She strides off to the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, “Keep your ass on that couch, princess!”
For once, Mel doesn’t argue. Sevika smiles to herself, knowing she has a long evening ahead, but there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.
a/n: I wasn't sure if I was going to participate in melvika week, but I want to write a lil' something for this lovely ship! So here's a little drabble. And I'll also be writing a caitvi fic for you all, since that's what's winning in the poll!
summary: mel is sick, sevika is soft | words: 600
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“How are you feeling?” Sevika’s voice is a low, warm rumble, her breath ghosting over Mel’s ear. They’re laying in bed, Mel flat on her back and Sevika starfished out half on top of her, a leg thrown over hers, an arm draped protectively over her waist. Sevika’s body heat is a welcome warmth, chasing away the chill that has settled under Mel’s skin, wrapping her in comfort. Mel takes a deep breath, and she can just faintly catch a whiff of Sevika’s familiar cigar-smoke scent, even as congested as she is.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Mel says in lieu of an answer. She’s not particularly interested in discussing the details of her symptoms – her blocked sinuses, her pounding head. Illnesses are so dull and she catches her fair share of them, so it’s nothing new. But Sevika here, with her, is what she cares about. That’s what matters.
“I’m glad I’m here too,” Sevika murmurs, pushing herself more upright so that she’s hovering over Mel on her forearms, her face a few inches from hers. Mel smiles as she looks into the moonlight silver of her eyes, the warmth of her face. Sevika feels like home to her now.
“But that wasn’t what I asked, doll,” Sevika continues, brushing a large, comforting hand over Mel’s cheek. For all her strength and muscles, she’s always endlessly tender with Mel. She touches her as if she’s precious, as if she’s breakable. Mel has never felt more cared for.
“I feel like you’re going to catch this, if you insist on staying so close to me.” Mel sighs, then turns on her side to smother a rattling cough in the blankets.
Sevika has a glass of water waiting for her when she turns back, a concerned frown pushing her eyebrows together. “I’m not going anywhere,” she murmurs, watching as Mel sips at the water, steadying her shaky hand with her own steady one. “I don’t care about catching your damn cold.”
“Mm, yes, but I will care when you’re whinging about how you can’t breathe through your nose,” Mel huffs with a small smile, letting Sevika take the water from her and set it aside. “The last time you were ill, you were convinced you were dying.”
“That was different,” Sevika chuckles, shaking her head. A lock of deep brown hair falls into her eyes, and Mel reaches up to tuck it back behind her ear, letting her fingers trail over the soft slope of her cheekbone.
“I’m not quite seeing the difference, love.”
“I caught that cold in the Last Drop,” Sevika says, then leans down to capture Mel’s lips in a gentle kiss. “This is your cold. I don’t mind your cold.” She moves her lips to Mel’s cheeks, pressing a kiss just under each of her eyes, endlessly tender. “What’s yours is mine, sweet girl” She kisses Mel’s forehead, her temple, even the tips of her ears. “And you’re mine.”
Mel laughs softly, reaching up to wrap her arms loosely around Sevika’s broad shoulders, tugging her in even closer. “That’s completely ridiculous, darling,” Mel smiles, but she doesn’t try to pull away. Sevika continues to kiss her, moving to her neck now, softly mouthing at Mel’s pulse point, her hand finding Mel’s hip, her thumb rubbing lightly over the curve of her hip bone. Even though the kisses send waves of warmth down Mel’s body, she knows this isn’t about anything more. She can feel the love and care in each press of Sevika’s plush lips to her skin.
“I’ll always be yours,” Mel breathes, her eyes fluttering shut as Sevika kisses her shoulder.
And this, more than anything, she knows to be true.
Mel says she’s perfectly fine. Caitlyn would believe her if “perfectly fine” didn’t involve a fever, a cough, and rewriting her speech while half-asleep at her desk.
tags: sick Mel, protective Caitlyn, established relationship, banter, fluff (1.2)
sicktember masterlist
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Caitlyn knows something is off before she even opens her eyes.
Whether it’s due to her sharp intuition or bit of a sixth sense, Caitlyn always knows when something’s off with her girlfriend. And this morning all of her internal alarm bells are ringing.
Mel isn’t curled up next to her, for starters. That in and of itself isn’t too unusual – both she and Caitlyn have their fair share of early mornings, due to their equally demanding careers. Caitlyn knows Mel has an event today that she’s been working on for months, a fundraising gala for the aid organization Zaun Children’s Society. She’s probably already up and getting dressed for the event, perhaps refining her speech for the umpteenth time.
But what is out of the ordinary is the light smell of lavender with a hint of menthol hanging in the air. Caitlyn recognizes the scent instantly as the aromatic cream Mel is partial to using when she’s feeling unwell. A quick glance at her girlfriend’s nightstand also reveals two slightly crumpled handkerchiefs discarded there. That is quite unusual, both Mel and Caitlyn despise messes and are meticulously neat.
Caitlyn doesn’t need any further clues to unravel this particular mystery. Mel is sick… and sure to be absolutely stubborn about it, if history serves as any precedent. Caitlyn grins softly to herself as she slips out of bed, donning her silk dressing gown and sweeping her hair into a messy ponytail. She feels a bit as though she’s readying herself for battle, which isn’t far from the truth. Convincing the determined, headstrong councilor and mage that she is, in fact, still human always proves a challenge. But that’s never stopped Caitlyn before, and it certainly won’t now.
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As expected, Caitlyn finds Mel in her study, reviewing her notes through narrowed eyes. Caitlyn easily clocks the signs of exhaustion on Mel that would be so easily missed by anyone else. The slight hunch to Mel’s usually perfect posture. The purple hue under her eyes. The way the golden sigils sweeping over her skin are just ever so slightly dull, missing their usual gleam.
Mel muffles a tiny cough into her shoulder, then glances up quickly when Caitlyn enters the room. Her expression is guarded, almost sheepish.
“Good morning, my love,” Mel says, giving her a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Caitlyn comes to her side, her heart skipping a beat the same way it always does when she sees Mel. She still hasn’t gotten used to her beauty, even after all these months that they’ve been together.
“Good morning.” Caitlyn perches on the edge of Mel’s desk, gently tugging the papers out of her hands and setting them aside. Mel sighs, giving her an irritated look, but Caitlyn isn’t dissuaded. She trails her fingers lightly down the side of Mel’s face, touching the backs of them against her cheek. Her skin is warm, too warm. “You’re not well,” Caitlyn murmurs, her brow pinching. She brushes her thumb over the faint circles under Mel’s eyes. “You should rest, darling.”
“I’m well enough,” Mel huffs, leaning back in her chair. Her golden-green eyes are sharp as she looks at Caitlyn, head tilted. “You aren’t going to convince me to forgo the event.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Caitlyn smirks, leaning in to press a light kiss to Mel’s forehead. “I was simply making an observation.”
“I’m fine,” Mel insists, but then her expression shifts, her nose scrunching. She turns and sneezes into a handkerchief, the sound rough enough to make Caitlyn wince with sympathy. “Ugh…excuse me,” Mel mutters afterward, coughing a little and pressing a weary hand to her temple.
Caitlyn lets out a long breath, shifting closer and reaching out to gently rub Mel’s shoulder. “Sweetheart…”
“I can still do the speech,” Mel protests, her voice cracking halfway through. She coughs again, trying to clear her throat. “It’s nothing, truly.”
“Mhm, and what would you say if it was me who had no voice and a fever, insisting on carrying on?” Caitlyn keeps her tone soft, but raises her eyebrows pointedly.
“I don’t have a fever.”
“You do, love.” Caitlyn lays the back of her hand against Mel’s forehead, humming softly. “Quite an impressive one, in fact.”
Mel sighs, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “I simply can’t cancel, not now. The timing is terrible, I’m supposed to be speaking just this afternoon,” she groans, but she’s sounding less sure of herself each passing second.
Caitlyn starts rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back. “They would understand. And there’s enough time to find someone to fill in. Shoola perhaps?”
“It would be rude of me to miss it.”
“But coughing your way through your speech wouldn’t be?”
“I would manage.”
“Love.” Caitlyn clasps Mel’s hand warmly between her own, giving her a level look. “I know as well as anyone that it’s pointless to try and stop you from something you’ve put your mind to. I am simply suggesting, however, as someone who loves you quite dearly and doesn’t wish to see you faint on stage in front of a crowd, that you stay home and let me look after you.”
Mel looks up at her, a mix of stubbornness and weariness in her eyes. “You wouldn’t catch me if I swooned?” she smirks, eyes glinting. “I would have expected more, Cait.”
Caitlyn chuckles, immediately coming to Mel’s side when she stands, putting a protective hand on her waist. “Of course I’d catch you. It still might put a dent in your status as the most formidable woman in Pilotver, though.”
Mel sighs, stumbling slightly when she sneezes again. Caitlyn tightens her arm around her, steadying her. “I hate falling ill.”
“I know,” Caitlyn says sympathetically, brushing a kiss over the top of Mel’s hair and guiding her from the room. They quietly head down the hall toward the sitting room.
“And I truly didn’t feel it coming on, or I would have canceled sooner,” Mel adds, coughing when her voice cracks.
“I know,” Caitlyn repeats patiently, helping Mel settle onto a velvet, plush settee. She props a pillow behind her girlfriend’s head, then covers her with a thick knit blanket, tucking the edges around her warmly.
She kneels next to the sofa, tucking a loose curl behind Mel’s ear, then kissing her cheek. “Rest. I’ll send word to the society and Shoola.”
Mel gives her a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, love.” She hesitates, expression turning hopeful. “Is there any chance I could sweet talk you into…”
“Making you a cup of ginger-lemon tea with a ridiculous amount of honey?” Caitlyn guesses with a grin. “That was exactly what I was going to do next.”
“You know me so well,” Mel laughs, eyes soft.
“I do. And I love you.” Caitlyn rests her forehead against Mel’s for a moment, just savoring the feeling of having Mel here. Sick, yes, but resting. Taken care of. Caitlyn’s.
“You’re mine,” Caitlyn says, her voice dropping into a low, protective murmur.
Mel cups her chin, smiling up at her. “Yes, darling. I’m yours.”
Those just might be the words Caitlyn loves the most.
Ah I'm excited to finally post some Melvika on here! I love this pairing but I actually find them really difficult to write? Mostly because I have a hard time getting in Sevika's headspace. But anyway I'm pretty happy with how this came out, enjoy! ♡
feverurary prompts: 15 - Guiding sickie back to bed
pairing: mel/sevika
words: 1.3k
summary: Sevika intends to keep her visit to the Medarda residence short and to the point. But when she's confronted with an ill Mel, Sevika's usually cold heart starts to thaw.
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Sevika knocks sharply on the gold-plated, ornately designed door, already irritated. Almost everything in Piltover irritates her, and Mel Medarda’s ridiculous mansion is no exception.
She’s learned to begrudgingly tolerate the opulence that she encounters daily in Piltover, in her effort to actually do some good for the undercity by serving on the council, but she still holds a strong distaste for it. If only these entitled topsiders would more readily share a fraction of their wealth with those suffering in the undercity, so many problems could be solved. She’s been able to help enact some small changes for Zaun since joining the council, but it’s still never enough.
She’s also annoyed that she's been delegated the task of meeting with Mel in private to relay the council’s latest meeting notes. Mel hadn’t attended today’s council meeting due to a mysterious ‘illness’, which Sevika is pretty sure is just rich-people-code for a headache or some equally trite ailment that warrants none of her sympathy. She hadn’t been quick to fabricate a reason why she couldn’t drop by the Medardara residence after the meeting – unlike the other councilors – and thus had been saddled with the duty.
A housekeeper answers the door and directs her to wait in the sitting room, and Sevika denies an offer of coffee or tea. She just wants to get this over with and head back to Zaun for a drink – or several – and a smoke, as soon as possible. Gods, does she need a smoke.
“Thank you for coming, I apologize for the wait,” a posh voice says a few minutes later. Sevika stands out of habit, turning to face Mel. However, at the sight of the other woman’s appearance, something unfamiliar twists in her gut.
Mel is dressed as elegantly as ever in a flowing, silk lounge set and matching robe, but her usually impeccably styled hair is a loose, curly halo around her shoulders, and her complexion lacks its usual warm glow. There’s a faint red tint to her nose, an unhealthy flush to her cheeks, and her normally sparkling eyes seem glassy.
It’s the least put together Sevika has ever seen her, although she somehow still somehow manages to look stunningly beautiful. Not that Sevika cares. She has plenty of women waiting for her in Zaun. She has no reason to mess around with the likes of Mel.
“Uh,” Sevika clears her throat. “No problem. Are you –” she hesitates. “You good?” she finally asks, gruffly.
Mel’s lip quirk slightly, and she comes over to settle in a chair opposite Sevika, who sits down as well.
“I feel terrible, if I’m honest,” Mel says lightly, sighing with a small, self-deprecating smile. “This illness came on quickly. But I’m sure it will pass soon.”
Sevika frowns. Of course she doesn’t care about Mel, who surely has plenty of doctors and staff to ensure she weathers any sickness perfectly fine, unlike the people of the undercity. But still. She can’t say she’s exactly pleased with how unwell the other woman looks.
“Maybe we should do this another time,” Sevika suggests, keeping her tone indifferent, watching as Mel stifles a cough politely. “There’s nothing urgent to discuss.”
Mel shakes her head, then grimaces at the movement and places an elegant hand to her temple, rubbing. She clears her throat and neatly folds her hands in her lap, looking at Sevika with a steady gaze.
“I prefer to stay informed, and you took the time to come all the way here. I wouldn’t waste your time,” Mel insists. “Please.” She gestures for Sevika to speak.
Sevika sighs, but relents, pulling a small, leather notebook from her pocket that has seen better days. She can’t believe she’s someone who writes notes now, but she takes her duties as the undercity’s sole representative on the council seriously, and she’s not letting those shifty councilmembers slip anything past her.
“Alright. The first point of discussion was a request from the Firelights for more aid, due to their increasing numbers,” she says, squinting down at her notebook. “Shoola suggested the ordering of an independent review of their space needs and –” she halts, glancing up when she hears Mel take in a sharp breath.
The reason for the interruption soon becomes clear when Mel hastily pulls a handkerchief from the pocket of her robe and buries her nose in it, sneezing several times with what barely seems like a breath in between. She sighs quietly afterward, her polite sniffles barely audible as she dabs at her nose with the cloth.
Something tightens in Sevika’s chest as she watches the other woman compose herself, her exhaustion clear in her slow, almost clumsy, movements.
“Bless,” Sevika offers, and then, before she can think better of it, “y’alright?”
Mel pockets her handkerchief, with a small, almost amused smile. “Quite. Please excuse me. Do continue, Sevika.”
Sevika grunts, returning to her notes. She focuses on reading through the updates, ignoring the way her chest tugs with something that feels a lot like concern when Mel sniffles or coughs, the illness making itself known despite Mel’s obvious attempts to hide her symptoms.
She’s just finished detailing the latest developments on the free clinic the council is working to get off the ground in Zaun, when she stops again, this time stymied by Mel breaking into a coughing fit.
The sick woman clearly tries to suppress it at first, but the cough demands release, and she buries her face in her elbow, the cough producing an audible rattle in her chest that Sevika frowns at the sound of.
“‘cuse — me, I need – some water,” Mel chokes out, standing quickly, still coughing. But then the color drains from her face, and she sways on the spot, stumbling.
Sevika is out of her chair and at Mel’s side, securely holding her by the waist, before she even realizes what she’s doing.
“Steady,” she says softly as Mel leans into her, Sevika taking most of her weight. Mel looks up at her through hazy, golden-green eyes, and tingle races down Sevika’s spine.
“Sorry,” Mel says breathily, and her gaze is locked to Sevika’s eyes for a beat. But then the moment is broken when Mel twists to the side, the cough starting up again.
“Bed,” Sevika grunts, guiding Mel out of the room with a solid arm around her, although she is careful to modulate her strength to not hurt her. She’s more than aware of her size compared to Mel’s, of how she feels like she could snap the other woman in half just by looking at her too hard.“You need to be in bed.”
“Oh,” Mel sounds befuddled, and sniffles, her cough finally settling. She doesn’t try to pull out of Sevika’s hold, however, allowing her to guide her toward the bedroom at the end of the hall. “I suppose.”
Sevika doesn’t let go of the smaller woman until she is safely settled into her extravagantly large bed. There’s a glass of water on the side table, which Sevika holds out to Mel expectantly, kneeling down next to the bed so they’re eye level.
Mel takes a few sips, and Sevika notes with displeasure that her hand shakes slightly on the glass. She takes it from Mel when she’s done, assessing her carefully. Mel leans back against the pillows, watching her too.
“You may continue, Sevika. My apologies for the… interruption,” Mel sighs, with a small sniffle and cough.
Sevika shakes her head firmly. “No. You need rest. We’ll continue another time when you’re well.”
“That isn’t necess–”
Sevika holds up a hand to stop her. “I insist.”
Mel glares at her, but Sevika just glares right back, her gaze steady and unyielding. After a silent battle of wills, Mel huffs and pulls up the blankets. “Fine. But I expect a full report in the future.”
Sevika grunts and stands. “Need anything?” she asks, even though she’s not sure why she’s offering. Mel probably has several housekeepers to cater to her every whim.
“I’m fine,” Mel raises an eyebrow, no doubt wondering the same thing. “I appreciate your concern.”
Sevika scoffs gruffly. “We’ve lost enough people in the war. Don’t need you knocked out by some virus too,” she says, but there’s no real heat to her tone.
Mel watches her closely, and Sevika finds it hard to look away from those golden, thoughtful eyes.
“Rest. Stay in bed,” Sevika orders after a beat of silence, adjusting her cloak. Then she sweeps out of the room without a backward glance.
But for some reason, her pulse thrums hard her whole journey back to Zaun.
here's another little melvika fic! ahh they're so cute together ♡
feverurary prompts: 23 “You need a tissue?”
pairing: mel/sevika
words: 900
feveruary masterlist
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Mel and Sevika aren’t dating, exactly.
Sure, most mornings Mel wakes up tucked securely in Sevika’s arms, the other woman having held her the whole night through. And yes, Sevika is a near-permanent fixture at the Medarda residence now, hanging around watching Mel paint, using the training facilities, or bringing Mel endless cups of tea.
Mel has come to treasure Sevika’s constant presence and feels aimless when the other woman ventures back to Zaun, although that has been happening less and less often these days. They spend their days together discussing politics, their upbringings, or just in companionable silence, sharing food and making love. Sevika is so different from the usual type of person Mel would be attracted to, and the depth of her feelings for the gruff and hardened undercity native surprises even her. But she can’t deny that there’s something that feels so safe, so right, about Sevika. Something that feels a lot like coming home after a lifetime spent adrift at sea.
Mel is sure Sevika would turn up her nose at the term ‘girlfriend’, and it doesn’t feel right to her either. No, they’re somehow more than that, in an undefined sort of way. But whatever it is, it works. Maybe that’s all that matters, labels or no.
Apparently, their relationship also extends to sick days, Mel learns one morning. She wakes miserably congested and exhausted, and Sevika wastes no time getting to work taking care of her, bringing her tea and handkerchiefs, holding her close the whole day.
That’s the thing people don’t know about Sevika, Mel muses, as she sips on her generously honeyed cup of tea, sitting up in bed resting against Sevika’s chest – she’s endlessly caring.
It had honestly surprised Mel the first time she experienced it. It was a rainy, grayish day in Piltover, and Mel had spent the morning putting her gifts as empath to good use by leading some healing sessions for people who needed them, something she’s been doing regularly since the war. However, using her magic always tends to leave her run-down and tired, as if all the energy in her body has been drained out of her, so she returned home in the afternoon for a much needed rest.
She hadn’t expected Sevika to notice or even care, as it was early days in their time spent with each other, which mostly just consisted of enjoying each other’s bodies. She knew Sevika was hanging around the residence somewhere, but she was too exhausted to go find her. So instead, Mel curled up on the couch in the large sitting room, wishing for a blanket but too tired to retrieve one, intending to take a quick nap to rejuvenate herself.
Instead, she woke sometime later to find Sevika crouched at her side, worry creasing her eyebrows, her silver eyes warm, and kind.
“Are you okay, love?” she had asked, and the term of endearment was new, as was the tenderness in her voice that was so unlike her usual gruffness. Sevika gently brushed a fallen curl away from Mel’s face, stroking a large, warm hand over her hair, and Mel melted into her touch. “Are you not feeling well?” Sevika had asked, as if Mel was precious, as if her state of health was the most important thing in the world to her.
When Mel had admitted to being drained from her use of her mage skills, Sevika had swept her up in her arms as if she was light as a feather, carrying her to bed and laying down with Mel curled on top of her, covering her with a blanket and holding her close. Mel had fallen asleep like that, wrapped in warmth and comfort and security, and slept better than she ever had before.
Mel knows this tenderness is a side of Sevika only she is privileged to, and it makes her heart warm with fondness that she gets to know this hidden softness in the battle-worn woman.
She’s drawn out of her reminiscing by Sevika shifting beneath her, readjusting their position so Mel is tucked more securely in her lap.
“How’s your head?” Sevika asks, voice low, her warm breath ghosting over Mel’s ear. The larger woman rubs circles on her thigh absently with a tender hand. Sevika has been keeping diligent track of Mel’s symptoms all day, doing whatever she can to help her feel better.
“Mm, better,” Mel hums, taking a sip of tea. “It doesn’t hurt much as long as I don’t –” she pauses, then sneezes lightly into her shoulder. “–do that,” she grimaces.
“Bless,” Sevika presses her warm lips to the back of Mel’s neck. “You need a handkerchief?”
Mel shakes her head, sighing. Her nose is already raw and irritated from all the abuse of the day, so she’s not eager to aggravate it further. She just sniffles instead, knowing the sound is unbecoming, but she feels too exhausted to care at the moment.
“Here,” Sevika says, and leans over to retrieve one of the neatly folded handkerchiefs from the table at the bedside. Then she brings the fabric to Mel’s nose, wiping gently, and holding it in place for a blow.
Mel can feel a blush warm her cheeks, and she hesitates.
Sevika sighs good-naturedly from behind her, pressing an affectionate kiss to Mel’s temple. “I don’t mind, baby. Go ahead.”
Mel complies, and Sevika is patient and gentle as she tends to her nose for her. Once finished, Mel relaxes back against her, tucking her face into the warm skin of Sevika’s neck.
“Feel better, my love,” Sevika murmurs, running a soothing hand down her spine, pulling Mel closer to her chest.
And for perhaps the first time in her life, Mel feels utterly and completely safe.
