*You were hanging out on campus with your small light haired poodle, Mr. Cuddles, playing with him. You were about to feed him another treat when you heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle gunning it down the street, causing your energetic and curious dog to bolt across the street. You shouted after Mr. Cuddles, running as he ran in front of the fast speeding vehicle. You cried out, closing your eyes as you waited for the screech of tires and hurt wine of the dog.

It never came.

You peeled an eye open, looking in a mix of relief and disbelief as the biker was crouched in front of his parked bike, helmet off, revealing his curly brown hair and bright smile as he enthusiastically rubbed his stomach, a blissed out look on Mr. Cuddle’s face, his pink tongue hanging out of his mouth.

You ran up to them as the biker scooped the happy poodle in his arms, cradling him like a baby as he cooed to him in a baby voice.

“Who’s a good puppy?” He said, making kissy faces at him.

You cleared your throat. “Uh, thanks for saving my dog.” You said sheepishly. The biker suddenly looked up as if he just noticed you, his face dropping in awe as he met your eyes.