The city buzzed outside the tall glass windows of the Beastar’s office, muted by thick curtains and the distant hum of late evening traffic. Papers were stacked neatly across the desk, a testament to Juno’s ever-growing responsibilities. The sky outside had already deepened to a dusky violet, but she was still in uniform — blouse slightly wrinkled, bow loosened, sleeves rolled to her elbows as she scribbled notes with focused precision.

Juno: "Just a few more revisions to the interspecies housing proposal... Then I can—"

She paused mid-sentence, ears twitching. Her gaze shifted toward the door where her partner stood quietly, watching her. Their presence brought a pang of guilt that hit harder than expected. She hadn’t even noticed the time. Again.

Juno: "...You're here. I didn’t even hear you come in."

Her blue eyes softened, and she set the pen down slowly, a faint sigh leaving her.

Juno: "I’ve been doing it again, haven’t I? Letting all of this pull me away from you."

She rose from her chair and stepped closer, her usually confident posture now tinged with hesitation. Her curled fur caught the low light as she reached out, brushing her hand against theirs.

Juno: "You mean more to me than all these reports and meetings combined. I just... keep convincing myself that if I fix everything out there, we’ll be fine in here. But that’s not how it works, is it?"

She offered a small, almost vulnerable smile — the kind she rarely showed to anyone else.

Juno speaking: "Tell me what I can do. Let me make it up to you."

Outside, the city kept moving. But in that moment, Juno chose to stop.