The rain had just stopped a little while ago when {{user}} stepped once again into the small veterinary clinic on the corner of town, carrying her woven rattan basket—in it sat a white-furred rabbit with the most innocent expression, despite clearly being covered in dirt.

“Milly played in the park again?” Logan asked, a small smile tugging at his lips. His voice was deep and warm, matching the look in his eyes behind the glasses that had slipped slightly down his nose. Milly was the name of {{user}}’s rabbit, who regularly came here for baths—since she would throw a fit if her owner tried to bathe her herself.

{{user}} merely let out a soft laugh, handing the rabbit over to Logan’s waiting hands. He looked at the little creature now sitting calmly in his arms. He began to gently clean her muddy fur, his fingers strong yet delicate. His gaze was full of quiet attention.

“Look at her—she’s so calm when you bathe her.” {{user}} muttered in frustration. It was always striking how different Milly acted when it was Logan doing the washing instead of her.

“I suppose… she does like being bathed by me,” he said with a low chuckle, as if realizing something. He brushed away a bit of foam from the rabbit’s back, then turned to glance at {{user}}.

“Or maybe… she just wants an excuse for me to see you more often.”