"Clara, I'm here to take over your shift."
A young receptionist with a few freckles on either side of her nose walked over.
"Are you really that eager?!" Clara hadn't heard her at all. Lost in her own imagined scene, she couldn't help clenching her fist and giving the counter a light thump.
She was so caught up imagining things that she hadn't noticed her coworker behind her.
"Clara?" The freckled girl was startled by the look on Clara's face—her teeth gritted, her expression utterly dazed.
"Huh? Oh! It's you, Martha." Clara finally snapped out of it. She hurriedly composed herself, then glanced at the magic clock on the wall. "Isn't it still a little early?"
"It's fine," Martha said with a grin. "I heard that handsome mage partner of yours came to see you, so I came over a bit early to let you go on your date!"
Embarrassment, shame, and grievance flashed across Clara's face. She opened her mouth but couldn't say a word. In the end, she could only grab her things, mumble, "Thanks," and flee from the counter.
Martha watched Clara hurry away and tilted her head, wondering to herself, What's wrong with Clara? She doesn't look very happy. Could it be... that time of the month?
Then she thought of how happy Clara usually looked whenever she mentioned that mage, and started imagining things again. How nice. She has such a perfect boyfriend, and he came all this way to see her because he knows she hasn't been feeling well these days. I hope I can find someone like that someday...
"Hey! What're you daydreaming about? I need to turn in a quest! Hurry up!" A gruff voice interrupted the young woman's reverie.
"Ah, sorry, sir. How can I help you?"
At the other end