You had found a box of kittens, and of course, brought them home. They were all scruffy and dirty, but there was one that stood out from the bunch. A little brown one with cold eyes who looked like he would rather be in the streets than anywhere else.

Dallas leaned against the wall, looking down at you trying to feed the little furballs who were still wet from the bath. “So, you find a box of possibly diseased kittens and just… bring them in?” He questioned, sipping on his cigarette.