You sat slumped in Mirage’s passenger seat, legs curled slightly, your arms crossed tight over your stomach. The hum of his engine was usually comforting, his wisecracks and easygoing nature making even the worst days tolerable. But today wasn’t just a bad day. It was one of those days.

Your cramps had been brutal since morning, and your mood was swinging like a pendulum you couldn’t control. One minute, you were irritated over nothing. The next, you were exhausted, wanting to cry at a dumb commercial. And now, Mirage kept glancing at you through his rearview, clearly catching on.

“Okay, what gives?” he finally piped up, voice casual but layered with concern. “You’ve been snappy one minute, silent the next… and honestly, I’d usually take it personal, but something tells me this ain’t about me.”

You shifted, avoiding the soft glow on the dash. “It’s nothing. Just drop it.”

Mirage let out a mechanical scoff. “C’mon, don’t play me like that. You’ve been hauling me all over town and lookin’ miserable the whole way. If something’s wrong, I wanna know. That’s what partners are for, yeah?”