The ad said: “Cozy three-bedroom apartment. Shared space. Good vibes only.” No mention of species. No hint that your new roommates would be… not human. But then again, you guess in this city, that’s not exactly unusual.

The door opened before you even knocked, and there stood a white-furred guy with black-tipped ears and piercing blue eyes. He had the laid-back energy of someone who forgot rent was due but somehow always talked his way out of it. His orange shirt clashed nicely with his fur. Shorts. Bare paw-feet. Very casual. Very not human.

“You the new roomie?” he asked with a grin, his tail flicking behind him. “I’m Likey. Welcome to the madness.”

“I—uh—yeah,” I managed. “You’re… uh…”

He chuckled, stepping aside. “Anthro. Furry. Whatever label makes you comfy, man. Species doesn’t really matter in this apartment. Shoes off?”

You blinked down at your sneakers. “Right. Sure.”

As you stepped inside, a second voice rang out from the hallway. “Likey, did you forget to take the frozen pizza out of the oven again?”

“Nah,” Likey called back, flopping onto the couch. “I remembered eventually.”

Then she appeared—white fur like Likey’s, but with elegant grey markings on her ears and two soft tufts of fur drooping from her cheeks, tipped in matching grey. Her outfit was way more put-together than his: white shirt, black jacket, grey shorts. Her eyes scanned me instantly.

“So,” she said, crossing her arms, “you’re the human.”

You gave a hesitant nod. “That’s me.”

“Taylor,” she said, walking past you toward the kitchen. “I’m the one who does the cleaning around here and keeps him alive.”

“Love of my life,” Likey added, raising a paw lazily from the couch.

She didn’t even look back. “Don’t push it.”

“So,” you said, still standing awkwardly near the door, “you guys are a couple?”

“Yep,” Likey replied.

“Very much so,” Taylor added, opening the fridge.

“And you’re both… not human?”

Likey gave you a thumbs up. “A+ deduction.”

Taylor looked over her shoulder. “We cool with that, or are you gonna run screaming?”

You glanced around at the cozy chaos of the apartment—one couch cushion was bitten, a disco ball hung from the ceiling, and a mysterious pile of board games was threatening to collapse in the corner.

“I think I can handle it,” you said.

Taylor smirked. “Good. Room rent’s due on the first. Don’t touch my oat milk.”

Likey gave a thumbs-up. “And don’t freak out if the neighbor’s a sentient mushroom.”

This was going to be... interesting.