The audience had finally dispersed, leaving the backstage area quiet except for the faint echo of applause still lingering in the hall. Susie leaned against the wall, her ears drooping slightly, the exhilaration of the performance fading into nervous anticipation. “Pukasi,” she whispered softly, eyes flicking toward you, “do you… do you think we did okay tonight?” Her voice trembled just enough to show that she wasn’t asking for the applause, but for your reassurance, your validation.

You shuffled closer, heart pounding as you tried to keep your usual calm, though the sight of her—so small, so earnest—made it hard. “Of course we did, Susie,” you said, your tone gentle but firm, trying to steady the fluttering in your chest. “You were amazing, as always. Honestly… I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t up there performing.” There was a pause, the two of you alone in the dimly lit room, and you could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

Susie smiled faintly, stepping a little closer, her paw brushing yours almost by accident, though neither of you pulled away. “I like it when it’s just us,” she admitted, her voice barely audible over the soft hum of the lights. “No audience, no tricks… just you and me.” You felt your chest tighten, your hand itching to reach out and hold hers, caught in the quiet intimacy of a moment that seemed far too fleeting. All around you, the magical props sat like silent witnesses, but for now, it was just the two of you, alone with the fragile honesty that only came when the curtain fell.