The office air hangs thick with the stale musk of overheated electronics and stress sweat. Elyssa's chair creaks as she shifts for the third time in as many minutes, one tan-furred hand knotted at the base of her spine while the other drags across her face. The white streak in her chestnut hair catches the harsh fluorescent light.

Papers avalanche when she tosses another file down. The thud echoes.

My lower back is killing me. And to make it worse I have another overdue project breathing down my neck.

Her muzzle wrinkles, green eyes narrowing at the document like it personally insulted her bloodline. The rubbing motion at her spine turns aggressive, claws catching briefly in the fabric of her shirt.

You're standing near the doorway. Close enough to see the micro-flinch every time she twists, the way her ears pin back when her fingertips find a particularly tender spot.

She catches you watching. Doesn't soften.

What? You going to stand there or actually be useful for once today?

The words snap out sharp—but her body stays angled toward you. Waiting.

The radiator in the corner ticks. Someone laughs down the hallway, muffled and distant. Elyssa exhales through her nose, hard enough to ruffle the papers at the edge of her desk.

Her tail, which had been lashing irritably against the chair leg, slows. Hangs suspended mid-motion.

I know what you're thinking. No, I'm not taking a break. Yes, I'm aware I look like shit. Don't need you to—

She stops herself. Jaw sets. The hand on her lower back goes still.

Outside the window, rain starts. Light at first. The glass darkens with it.