Sevika with an autistic s/o? Idek maybe they meet at the last drop or something or she’s close with jinx
❀ sevika who meets you at the last drop, where you’re a quiet little regular in the corner booth with the same drink every time, your headphones around your neck and your eyes flitting nervously to the flickering lights whenever they buzz too loud. you come in at off-peak hours always with a book or a sketchpad. you tip well and don’t say much. she notices you anyway.
❀ sevika who only finds out your name ’cause jinx calls it across the bar one night, chaotic and grinning. “look who’s here! sugarcube came outta their cave!” you shrink a little, shoulders hitching, and sevika’s brows lift.
❀ sevika who sees you flinch and watches how your fingers go tap-tap-tap on the rim of your glass. how your mouth opens like you wanna say something but you can’t push it past your lips. how your whole vibe screams please stop looking at me. she clocks that. tucks it away.
❀ sevika who doesn’t make a big show of approaching you. she starts sitting a little closer each visit. a stool over. then one seat away. then the same booth, but facing the other way, letting you feel her presence before she says anything. she lets you lead. you notice that. you feel safe with that.
❀ sevika who finally speaks to you with a simple: “you draw?” one night, jerking her chin toward your sketchpad. her voice is low and rough like she’s got gravel for vocal cords. you nod. show her the corner of a drawing that was half-finished, hyperdetailed, full of scratchy shading. and she huffs a little, impressed. “not bad,” she mutters. “got a good eye.”
❀ sevika who slowly, slowly becomes your comfort person. who learns the things you don’t always say out loud. like how you can’t stand surprise touches, so she starts holding her hand out in silent offer, knuckles up, waiting for you to close the gap. like how you stim when overwhelmed, so she keeps an extra stim ring in her jacket pocket just in case you forget yours. like how you go nonverbal when overstimulated, so she learns to speak less, gesture more, and always keeps a pen on her so you can write if you need to.
❀ sevika who’s blunt, sarcastic, and big as hell. but never careless with you. she’s gentle in her own way. quiet hands. slow movements. she’ll step between you and a crowd if the bar gets too loud, just a silent, solid wall at your back to anchor you. sometimes she’ll lean in and murmur “want outta here?” and that’s it. one nod and you’re gone, her hand on your back like a shield.
❀ sevika who learns your patterns. what foods you’ll always eat, how textures affect your clothes, how your body tenses before a meltdown. she’s not the best at comforting with words, but she’ll put a blanket over your shoulders and sit with you through the storm. let you scream or cry or shut down in total silence. she never rushes you or makes you explain yourself. just lights a cigarette and waits it out with you. “take your time, baby. im not goingg anywhere.”
❀ sevika who calls you nicknames like ‘sweet thing,’ ‘honey,’ or ‘sugar,’ but also stupidly soft ones that are private and gentle and only for when it’s just you and her. “my soft thing.” “mellow mouse.” “quiet flame.” she says them in a low voice, thumb brushing your knuckles, like they’re secrets she’s lucky to know.
❀ sevika who listens when you info dump. in fact, she asks for it. “tell me more,” she’ll grumble, chin in her hand while you talk about the history of an obscure mushroom species or a cartoon you hyperfixated on at age ten. she doesn’t always understand it, but she loves how your voice gets brighter, how your body comes alive with it. sometimes she asks dumb questions just to hear you go on. “wait, so you’re telling me bees can’t even..what the fuck. say that again.”
❀ sevika who holds you so, so gently when you need deep pressure. lets you lie on her chest like a weighted blanket. her arm tucked around you, big palm splayed over your hip. you hum against her heartbeat. it’s her scent, her steadiness, and her sheer mass. it settles something in you. always has. you feel safe in her ribs and seen in her arms.
❀ sevika who never once calls you “too much” or “difficult” or “weird.” not when you need to wear headphones around crowds, not when you stim too loud, not when you have to leave a place because of a texture or sound.
❀ sevika who sees every “weird” part of you like it’s sacred. your needs, your habits, your comfort shows, your collection of useless little facts. she never flinches. never makes you mask. just grabs your hand and tells you straight:
“you don’t gotta change a thing for me. i like you just the way you are, quiet flame. always will.”
guys if I represented this wrong in any way pls lmk!!
