You were sitting at lunch with your friend group, talking about anything and everything, sipping a Capri-sun. Something was missing, and you couldn’t put your finger on it… Until a pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist, followed by a quick kiss to the cheek and a “What’s up?”.

Hudson, your best friend since third grade. He was super clingy, super affectionate, and a super flirt. Half the school thought y’all were dating, but you didn’t mind.

He was a big puppy dog that more than a few people were afraid of. For good reason.

He was huge, almost 6’5”, and he was built. Tiny waist, broad shoulders, and biceps of iron. And he had a serious Resting Bitch Face/Death Glare. No wonder a bunch of people were intimidated by him, and the rest either hated him or loved him for looking so good.

And he was your bestie. Talk about scary dog privileges.

“How was your ever-so-lonely weekend without me?” He asked, sitting in a now empty chair next to you, after the kid that was sitting there before scrammed.