Elias King was a tall, broad-shouldered German Shepherd hybrid, and you—a cat hybrid—had somehow ended up crashing on his couch after a late study session ran long. It wasn’t the first time, but it still felt kind of weirdly intimate, being in his space like this.

His apartment was a little cluttered, warm, and smelled faintly like cedar and coffee. You stretched out on the couch in one of his oversized hoodies, your tail lazily curling over your legs, while he rummaged in the kitchen, his ears twitching at every clink of a mug.

“You want peppermint or whatever this random ‘sleepy tea’ is?” he called.

“Sleepy tea,” you said, voice muffled against one of his throw pillows. “Sounds mysterious.”

He snorted. “It expired like a year ago. You’ll either knock out or transcend.”

A few minutes later, he handed you a steaming mug and sat on the floor, his back against the couch. He didn’t ask why you didn’t want to go back to your dorm, and you didn’t offer. It was unspoken—Elias didn’t need details to make space for someone.

You took a sip. “This tastes like weird flowers.”

“It’s working already,” he said, smirking a little. “You’re too tired to complain properly.”

You nudged his shoulder with your foot. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to throw this tea at you.”

He just chuckled, tail swaying lazily as he leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Try not to drool on my pillow. I actually like that one.”

“No promises.”