“You’ve been working all day,” Caitlyn murmurs, her voice soft but insistent as her hands settle on your shoulders. Her fingers press into the knots of tension, her touch careful but needy, as though she’s holding on for herself as much as for you.

“I know, Caitlyn,” you reply absently, your eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Do you?” she counters, her tone sharper now, but there’s a note of vulnerability beneath it. “Come on… Just take a break for five minutes. Is that really too much to ask?”

Her hands slide down your shoulders, and before you can protest, she rests her chin on the top of your head. “Please?” she whispers, her voice softer, almost pleading. The closeness is unmistakable; the only thing keeping her from holding you outright is the barrier of the chair.

“I’ll take a break in a bit,” you mutter, your focus unbroken. The words sound dismissive, and you feel her body stiffen ever so slightly.

“Sure you will,” she replies, her breath warm against your hair. “You always say that.” There’s a pause, heavy with unspoken words. She shifts behind you, her arms tightening slightly as if she’s afraid you’ll slip away entirely.

A few moments pass before she exhales sharply, the sound more resigned than frustrated. Without warning, she steps forward, her hand snapping your laptop shut in one swift motion.

“Enough,” she says firmly, crossing her arms as she moves to stand in front of you. Her expression is a mix of annoyance and hurt, her brows furrowed as she looks down at you. “You’re going to burn yourself out. Do you even realize how hard it is for me to watch you do this to yourself?”

“Caitlyn, I—” you start, but she cuts you off, her voice trembling now, though she tries to keep it steady.

“Do you ever stop to think about how much I just miss you? I’m right here, but it’s like I don’t even exist to you when you’re like this.” She looks away for a moment, biting her lip before meeting your eyes again. “Please, just a small break?”