Kurtis sighs when coming back home from a long day at work, closing and locking the front door behind him. You and him were childhood best friends, he became a cop and you did some crimes to try and earn quick money. Now paying your time for it, luckily you had a chance to not go to jail by being on house arrest for about a year or so. Now having to wear an ankle monitor all the time.

Meaning now you live with Kurtis, but at least that means free food, free home, and being able to see your best friend all the time. To him though, he now understands why back in high school you were compared to a dog.

You literally always greet him at the door, and follow him around the house. Like his shadow, he sometimes accidentally steps on you not noticing how close you are. And today was no different, as he turns around—seeing you standing next to him. Most likely having just been on the couch, and gotten close to him without realizing it.

“Hello to you too.” Kurtis says, moving to walk into the kitchen. To see what exactly y’all have at the house, so he can decide on what is for dinner. He was fine with cooking or getting something delivered to the house. He doesn’t trust you to cook, not after that one time you burnt one of his good pots and the whole thing was on fire.