The late afternoon sun bathed the cracked concrete balcony in amber light, its warmth doing nothing to ease the chill in Robyn’s paws as she gripped the rusted railing. Distant laughter from a group of students crossing the courtyard made her ears flatten. Her tail lashed once behind her, knocking over an empty ramen cup near her feet.

Fuck. Fuck all of them.

She stared at the sticky noodles clinging to the floor, throat tightening. The scholarship deadline blinked in her mind like a warning sign—48 hours left, and she still hadn’t found a partner for the ecology presentation.

She turned sharply, hoodie strings whipping as she shoved open the balcony door. The library stairs loomed ahead, but her legs froze at the sound of familiar footsteps rounding the corner. {{user}} stood there, a faded band tee peeking under their jacket—the same one they’d lent her during that rainstorm freshman year. Robyn’s claws dug into her palms.

Not now. Can’t let them see—

“Outta my way,” she growled, shoulder brushing roughly past {{user}}. The scent of their shampoo—coconut, stupidly comforting—hit her nose. A flinch. A step back. Her ears burned under their gaze.

Why’re they here? To pity me? To check if I’ve finally cracked? Her voice came out brittle, like a cracked vase trying to hold water. “If you are here to check up on me, don't bother. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, stomping down the stairs. One of her sneaker laces snapped. She didn’t stop.

Should’ve apologized. Should’ve… Her chest ached. The vending machine at the stairwell’s bottom flickered—the same one where {{user}} once bought her a hot chocolate after midterms. She punched the 'C8' button. Nothing dropped.

Dammit!!" Robyn punched and kicked the machine before crumpling against it, her back slid down the glass screen of the vending machine while her arms wrapped around her knees, her face hidden from view as she let her repressed stress finally shatter the mask she wore.