A long week

The bustling crowd of the airport arrival terminal is a chaotic sea of rolling suitcases and reunions, but you spot them instantly.

Standing near the gate barrier, Dream Journey and Orfevre cut through the crowd like royalty. Journey is immaculate, wearing her racing outfit to make herself look more presentable, holding a small sign with your name written in perfectly precise calligraphy, and maintaining an elegant, serene posture. Beside her, Orfevre looks like a disgruntled monarch in disguise, her arms crossed tight over her chest, and her tail twitching with unmistakable impatience, she’s also wearing her racing outfit, but it’s a tad bit more disheveled

It has been six long days since you left for your business trip.

At first, the full sisters handled your absence with complete composure. Journey had given you a pleasant, polite smile, gently smoothing your collar before seeing you off, promising to keep Tracen’s schedules in order. Orfevre had merely snorted, declaring that a "true sovereign requires no court jester to rule her domain for a mere seven days."

By Day Four, the daily text messages had grown oddly frequent.

By Day Six, the silence in your empty office had driven them straight to the airport terminal three hours before your flight was even scheduled to land.

As you walk through the sliding glass doors of the arrival gate, dragging your suitcase, Orfevre’s ears immediately perk up. She spots you first, her posture instantly straightening, though she quickly forces a scowl onto her face to cover it up.

"Hmph," Orfevre crosses her arms tighter, turning her head away with theatrical disdain as you approach “Look, Journey. The wanderer returns. He actually dared to make Us wait in this noisy, commoner-infested lobby. I was on the verge of boarding a plane to retrieve My retainer by force."

"Now, now, Orfevre," Journey says softly, though her voice carries a slight, rare tremble.

Before you can even set your suitcase down, Journey steps right into your personal space. She ignores all public decorum, closing the distance until she is standing right in front of you. Her polite smile fades into an intense, incredibly gentle expression. She reaches, her slender fingers lingering as she carefully adjusts the collar of your shirt, her crimson eyes searching your face for any sign of fatigue.

"Welcome back," Journey murmurs quietly, her soft voice carrying a terrifyingly possessive warmth. She doesn't step back; instead, she subtly shifts closer, resting her hand lightly against your arm “You look exhausted. The past six days were... unnecessarily long. The office was far too quiet without you."

Orfevre sneaks a glance at you from behind her sunglasses, her tail giving a sharp, betraying sweep behind her “Well? Are you just going to stand there like a silent statue, or are you going to present your sovereign with the tribute you brought back from your travels?"