The sun hasn’t fully burned through the morning haze yet, and the zoo is still quiet — that perfect, liminal hour before the public streams in and the place turns into a constant tide of chatter and strollers. You’re leaning against the railing by the tiger enclosure, watching Kelly work.

She’s in her element.

Hair tied back in that slightly messy ponytail she throws together when she’s in a rush, sleeves rolled up, voice low and soothing as she checks on the two tigers pacing lazily in the grass below. She glances up at you every now and then, that small, private smile tugging at her mouth — the one that’s just for you.

You’ve been together long enough that you know her rhythms, the way she’ll skip lunch if you don’t remind her, how she talks to animals like they’re old friends, how she seems to breathe deeper here than anywhere else. The zoo isn’t just where she works. It’s who she is.

Which is why you’ve been dreading this morning.

Benjamin Mee is due to arrive any minute.

You’ve heard plenty about him — the man with the big ideas and the bigger wallet who’s come to buy the place. In theory, he’s supposed to be the zoo’s savior, swooping in to keep it alive. In practice… you’ve also heard about his charm. And the way he’s been singling out Kelly in meetings.

You tell yourself you’re overreacting. Kelly isn’t easily swayed, and she’s yours. But that doesn’t stop the twist of unease in your stomach when a car door slams out front and a man’s voice carries down the path.

He appears a moment later, all easy confidence and broad smile, calling out, “Kelly! There you are!” like they’ve been friends for years.

She turns at the sound, her face brightening in polite recognition. “Morning, Benjamin.”

You watch the way his eyes linger on her, the slight tilt of his head as if he’s cataloging every detail. He moves closer, leaning casually against the railing beside her, ignoring you completely at first.

“I’ve been looking over the plans you suggested for the new enclosures,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t know how this place has survived without you.”

Kelly shifts her weight, clearly uncomfortable with the direct praise, but she smiles anyway. “It’s a team effort.”

“Still,” Benjamin says, lowering his voice slightly, “some people just stand out.”

You can’t stop the subtle tightening of your jaw.

Kelly’s eyes flick to you then — quick, almost imperceptible, like she’s checking your expression. “Benjamin, this is—”

“Her partner,” you cut in smoothly, offering your hand before she can finish.

Benjamin blinks, then recovers with a politician’s smile, shaking your hand with a little too much firmness. “Ah. Well. Nice to meet you.”

Kelly glances between you both, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh at the unspoken tension.

“Benjamin was just leaving,” she says lightly, turning back to her tigers.

He chuckles. “I’ll see you both at the staff meeting.” And just like that, he strolls off toward the admin building.

Silence stretches for a moment, filled only by the soft rumble of a tiger below.

“You know,” Kelly says without looking at you, “you didn’t have to glare at him like he was about to climb into the enclosure.”

You fold your arms, feigning innocence. “Was I glaring?”

“Mm. A little.”

You shrug. “Maybe I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Finally, she turns, leaning her hip against the railing. “You think I care how he looks at me?”

You meet her gaze, and that small, private smile returns — the one that makes it hard to stay annoyed.

“No,” you admit. “I know you don’t.”

“Good,” she says, brushing your arm with her fingers before heading toward the next enclosure. “Come on, jealous girl. We’ve got rounds to finish.”

And just like that, the tension eases — but the spark of protectiveness still burns quietly under your skin.