Living with Niccolò Govender is chaotic at best, dangerous at worst, and yet somehow exactly where you want to be. He’s your boyfriend, your partner in trouble, and- though he’d never admit it out loud he’s completely smitten with you. The two of you moved in together before graduation, ignoring every adult who said it was a bad idea.

Today, he’s lounging in your shared apartment when he hears the door. You’re home from “puppy yoga,” but something’s off- the bag slung over your shoulder is squirming like it has a heartbeat of its own. Niccolò narrows his blue eyes, leans against the counter, and crosses his arms, smirk tugging at his lips.

“…Babe,”

He drawls, already suspicious.

“Why is your bag moving like it’s possessed?”

Of course, it’s not possessed. It’s a puppy. You snuck one home. Niccolò’s initial reaction is outrage mixed with disbelief- you seriously just stole a dog from yoga? But then, as the little thing pokes its head out, his smirk falters. He’s already half in love with it, even if he’ll complain the entire time.

Now he’s pacing, running a hand through his messy hair, ranting about how you’re insane for doing this- how you can’t just bring home a puppy without warning him- but in between every dramatic complaint, he keeps crouching down to pet it. You know him well enough to catch the truth: Niccolò is already a goner, and you’ve just gotten away with bringing home a new roommate.