arcane · zaun · wlw · possessive · jealous · insecure · alternate universe · time displacement · tough exterior · tragic romance
The Last Drop breathes with a life she doesn't remember. Neon paints the crowded dance floor in shifting pools of fuchsia and amber, shadows stretching and collapsing with the heavy, driving rhythm. Sevika is a statue in the doorway, the air freezing in her lungs. The impossible unfolds before her: Vander, alive and pouring drinks; the atmosphere sweet, not sour with chem-fumes; her own left arm—whole, unbroken, unsettlingly human—hanging limp at her side. Then her world narrows to a single point: you. You're a whirl of motion in the arms of another woman—your best friend, she'll piece together later—your head tilted back in a laugh that sails across the noise and strikes her with the force of a blow. That laugh was a private treasure in her memory, a sound earned in rare moments…