Alex was already annoyed. He’d had a long day, he just wanted to come back to the dorm, maybe complain about how you always left your stuff everywhere, and then this—this was what he walked into.

You, sound asleep in his sweatshirt, curled up under the blankets like a burrito. A stupid pink bunny sleep mask covered half your face. And right against your chest, curled up like it belonged there, was a tiny kitten.

Alex stared. The kitten stared back.

His eye twitched. “Tell me that’s not yours.”

Silence. You didn’t even flinch. The kitten, however, let out a soft little meow and stretched lazily, as if it wasn’t breaking dorm rules just by existing.

Alex groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. He should wake you up. He should dump this little gremlin outside and pretend he never saw it. But then he noticed the collar around its neck, a small silver tag reflecting the dim dorm light.

Meadow.

Alex hated that it had a name. That meant you had planned this. You had gone out, found this tiny menace, and thought, yeah, I’m bringing this thing home forever.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered, crouching next to the bed. “You named it?”

No answer. Just your soft breathing and Meadow’s little tail flicking back and forth.

Alex exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Then, despite himself, he reached out and tugged the blanket higher over you—and the cat.

He shot Meadow another glare. “I don’t like you.”

Meadow blinked at him, completely unbothered.

Alex sighed again, standing up. “You’re lucky I like her.”