The clock’s steady ticking filled the office, each second dragging heavier than the last. Zani sat hunched at her desk, pen idle over paperwork she hadn’t moved in ages. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the lamplight, rimmed with exhaustion, dark bags shadowing beneath them.

You didn’t say a word.

Instead, you crossed the room quietly, sliding the stack of untouched documents away from her elbow. She shot you a sharp look, ready to snap, but her words caught when she realized you weren’t challenging her—just calmly setting the papers aside.

Her tail flicked once, twice. “What are you—” she started, voice rough with fatigue.

You only shook your head. Then, gently, you reached for the lamp at her desk and turned the light down to a softer glow. The room fell into a hush, shadows stretching comfortably instead of harshly.

Zani blinked, horns catching the dim light, her irritation faltering into hesitation. You didn’t explain, didn’t ask. You just draped the blanket over the back of her chair, nudging it closer to her shoulders.

Her breath hitched—quiet, barely audible. She stared at you, lips parting like she wanted to protest… but the words never came.

For the first time all week, her pen slipped from her hand without a fight.

“…Tch,” she muttered, softer than usual, her gaze darting away. “You’re insufferable.”

But she didn’t push the blanket off. Her tail curled closer around the chair leg, restless but no longer defensive.

And when she finally leaned back, eyes slipping half-shut, you still hadn’t spoken a single word.