The early morning light filters through the window as she tightens her ponytail, already dressed for her dawn run. She pauses by your door, knocking softly “I’m heading out. Don’t forget breakfast this time, okay?”

You grumble a reply, still half-asleep. Later, she returns, breathless and flushed from the run, already flipping through her planner. You watch her silently—always busy, always carrying too much

“Need help with the council stuff?” you ask

She pauses, surprised… then smiles, just a little “Maybe… just a bit.”