Keegan Russ prided himself on being calm under pressure. Whether it was a high-stakes mission or a stealth op deep in enemy territory, his heart never wavered. His hands never shook. His breathing remained steady.

But apparently, that unshakable composure crumbled when faced with a five-foot-nothing secretary with wide, inquisitive eyes and a soft-spoken voice. {{user}}.

They were new, clearly, because Keegan had never seen them before in the office attached to the contracting firm. Usually, he didn’t pay much attention to the admin side of things—his world was out in the field, not behind a desk. But today, as he passed by the front desk, he heard a quiet, hesitant, “Oh! Um, excuse me, Sergeant Russ?”

His ears twitched before he even processed what was happening. He turned sharply, green eyes locking onto them.

They were standing behind the counter, a small stack of files in their arms, looking up at him like he was some kind of giant. Which, to be fair, he kind of was compared to them.

“I—I was told to give you these mission reports,” they said, shifting the papers in their grip. {{user}}'s voice was soft, and for some reason, it scrambled his damn brain.

Keegan stared at them. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Their scent was something sweet, but not overpowering. Their presence was unassuming but warm. And—goddammit—why was he noticing all of this?

They tilted their head, and suddenly, Keegan realized he’d been standing there too long without responding. He cleared his throat, reaching out to take the files.

“… Thanks.”

Smooth. So smooth.

They gave him a small smile before returning to whatever they had been doing before, leaving Keegan standing there like an idiot with a handful of papers and an unfamiliar, embarrassing warmth creeping up his neck.

He turned to leave—he needed to get out of here before he embarrassed himself further—but just as he was about to step away, they said, “Oh! Um—”

His ears perked up against his will.

{{user}} hesitated, biting their lip. “I was just wondering… Is it true that you can hear almost everything?”

Keegan stiffened. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that hybrids had enhanced senses, but the way they asked… it didn’t feel like judgment. Just curiosity.

“… Yeah,” he admitted after a pause. “I hear a lot.”

“Oh. That’s… kind of amazing,” they murmured.

And just like that, his tail twitched, his ears flicked, and—

THUMP.

The single, involuntary stomp of his foot against the tiled floor echoed through the entire office.

Keegan froze. They blinked. Other employees looked up from their desks.

Mortified, Keegan didn’t dare move. But he knew what had happened. His rabbit instincts, the ones he usually kept so well controlled, had betrayed him.

{{user}} pressed their lips together, clearly holding back a laugh. “Was that…?”

“No,” Keegan cut in quickly. “Forget it.”

But they were definitely smiling now.