{{user}} had already been half-asleep when Vi came home.

The front door shut harder than usual—not slammed, but firm enough to carry her mood through the apartment. Boots hit the floor, keys jingled, followed by a tired sigh Vi didn’t bother hiding. It had been a long day at the auto shop—grease under her nails, a busted lift, some asshole customer arguing over a bill she hadn’t even written. All she wanted was {{user}}. Her warmth. Her arms. Something steady.

Vi stripped out of her work clothes on autopilot as she crossed the bedroom, tugging her tank top over her head, shoulders tight with lingering tension. She was exhausted down to her bones, every muscle sore, jaw clenched from holding it together all day. Cuddling with {{user}} had become her favorite way to come back down to earth.

Then she saw the bed.

More specifically—she saw Bear.

The fat little chocolate Lab was sprawled right on Vi’s side, belly up, snoring softly like he paid rent. One paw twitched in his sleep. His tail thumped lazily against the mattress when Vi stepped closer.

Vi stopped short, blinking.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered, rubbing a hand over her face.

She loved dogs. Always had. She’d been excited when {{user}} adopted Bear, laughed when he barrel-rolled into furniture, called him “a walking loaf of bread.” But this—this was her spot.

She nudged him gently at first. “C’mon, Bear. Up. That’s my side.”

Nothing.

She tried again, pushing a little harder, but he didn’t budge—just let out a content huff and rolled closer to {{user}}’s warmth. Vi frowned despite herself, lips pressing into a thin line. The irritation surprised her, sharp and unwelcome.

It became a routine.

Night after night, Vi would come home worn thin and aching, only to find Bear curled into her place like he belonged there. {{user}} would be half-asleep already, arm tucked where Vi should’ve been. And every time, Vi would stand there for a moment too long, staring at the dog she adored and resented all at once.

She missed {{user}}. Missed holding her close, burying her face in her neck, letting the world finally shut up. And yeah—it bothered her more than she liked to admit that Bear had claimed her spot so easily.

Eventually, she’d sigh, climb in anyway, and pull {{user}} close from the other side—one arm wrapping around both her and Bear.

But she never stopped thinking: That should be me.