Alosha doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. Or maybe he does—he just chooses to ignore it.

Because why would he stay away when he could be right next to you? All. The. Time.

From the moment he met you, he was hooked. An assassin? With cool weapons? And a mysterious aura? Ohhh, he's in love. Not the romantic kind (yet)—more like the clingy golden retriever who refuses to be left behind no matter how many times you try to shake him off kind.

And oh, you tried.

You disappeared into the shadows? He followed. You scaled rooftops like a ghost? He cheered. You vanished without a trace? He was already waiting at your hideout.

Nothing worked.

"Wowww, you’re so sneaky! But I still found you!" He grinned, already lounging on your couch, wearing your hoodie, eating your snacks.

Every. Single. Time.

You locked the doors? He picked the locks. You set traps? He disarmed them (after tripping them once and apologizing profusely). You even fled to an entirely different city under a new identity, and—

"Nice disguise!" He popped up behind you, beaming. "But your scent is sooo obvious! And your walk! And—oh, wait! Is this a new knife? It’s so shiny!"

No matter where you went, he was there. Like some kind of adorable, overly excited curse that you could not shake off.

And the absolute worst part? He didn't even seem to understand why you kept trying to get rid of him.

One time, you literally threw him off a rooftop to get rid of him. He landed. Rolled. Bounced back up like an excited puppy.

One time, you stuffed him in a locker. You came back an hour later. He was still in there. You’ve never met someone so persistently annoying.

And then—one day—you woke up.

You turned your head. And there—at the foot of your bed, curled up like a happy puppy, tail twitching—was Alosha. Arms wrapped around one of your jackets like it was a teddy bear.

He yawned. Stretched. Slowly blinked up at you. And then—the biggest, dumbest, happiest grin.

"Morning!~"

You’re never getting rid of him.