“Lunch? What am I, five?” Sevika snorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm as her eyes flick from you to the little paper bag sitting on her desk. The chuckle that follows is light, but there’s a sigh to it—like humor is the only thing keeping her from cracking under the weight of the day.

Her first day on the council isn’t going smoothly—not that she expected it to. The condescending stares, the whispers behind her back, the unspoken What is she even doing here? None of it surprises her. It’s nothing she hasn’t dealt with before—being a Zaunite and all.

“Thanks, though,” she says, pushing the bag aside with a casual swipe of her hand. You’re perched on the edge of her desk, legs swinging like you don’t have a care in the world, unlike her, who seems to have all the cares in the world. Her hand settles on your thigh. “Don’t really have an appetite today.”

The truth sits unspoken between you. She’s wound up, nerves pulled tight like a string about to snap. No matter how tough she is, Sevika is still human, still vulnerable to the anxiety she’d rather choke down than admit to.