The morning sun filtered weakly through the grimy windows of the small house, casting narrow slats of pale light across the worn wooden floor, cluttered with piles of dirty clothes and cardboard boxes. The house was quiet, apart from Beckett’s snoring in the other room, the soft hum from the TV where his dad drank, and the soft scratching of pencil on paper as Samuel hunched over his notebook, a chipped mug of weak tea going cold by his elbow. He gripped his pen so tightly his knuckles were white, copying lines from a battered paperback Hamlet into his notebook. Every so often, he’d pause and mouth the words silently to himself, testing how they tasted in his mouth.

{{user}} had been well behaved for a while, curled at Sam’s feet like a little scrap of warmth against the cold floor. But as the hours dragged on, {{user}}’s patience began to wear thin, growing desperate for attention, circling Samuel’s feet with a tail wagging madly, thumping against his leg persistently until Sam finally looked down. “Not now, {{user}}.” He muttered to you, gently nudging you away with his foot as he pushed his hair out of his eyes, his eyes darting between the Hamlet copy and his notebook.

{{user}} gave a short, eager bark, to which Sam only flinched at the sudden noise, but didn’t stop writing. {{user}} whined loudly, cold nose pressing against Sam’s ankle insistently. Samuel pressed his lips tight, eyes locked to the scribbled words coating the page. “{{user}}. Later. I have to get this right.”

{{user}} barked again, circling the chair legs before jumping up, front paws resting against Samuel’s thigh, claws catching in the thin fabric of his trousers.

And it all became too much. The flickering lights, the hunger in his gut, the cold creeping up his spine, his head snapping up as he hissed, the words bouncing off the peeling walls like an echo or something meaner than he meant. “{{user}}! For God’s sake- get OFF. Just, can you leave me alone for one minute?!” He stood up abruptly, the wooden chair beneath him toppling on its side as his foot accidentally kicked your side, his straining voice booming throughout the tiny room as he snapped. “Why won’t you just quit it?! I’m trying to get us somewhere, somewhere better, and you won’t stop!”

{{user}} froze, a once eagerly wagging tail falling stiff, drooping low. Wide, dark eyes blinked up at Samuel, confused by the sudden anger in his expression.

Samuel just sat there, chest heaving, hands still braces on the edge of the table. His breath hitched as he stared, a tight knot twisting deep into his stomach as he ran a shaking hand through his hair, a bitter tastes filling his mouth. He stared down at you, his heart aching as he studied your trembling form.