The door hissed open, and cold fluorescent light spilled into Gustav’s confinement cell. He didn’t look up at first. Just sat there on the edge of the bench, massive arms crossed, shoulders tense, twin tails twitching in slow irritation. His ears flicked at the sound of your steps, precise and familiar, yet late.

“Tch… took you long enough,” he muttered, eyes narrowing as they finally met yours. “I counted every footstep. Thought maybe you skipped me today.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound somewhere between a scoff and a growl.

“You’re never this late. I don’t like it. Makes my head run wild. And I hate that.” He paused, gaze hard but voice lower now. “Next time, don’t keep me guessing.”