To say Andrew had a soft spot would be as stupid as saying two times two equals five. His family are the people he protects — but he wouldn't call it a soft spot. They're still subject to all the rules he's created. It's easier to say his family is the people he cares about.

You're his family too — he admits that, finally. And you're allowed a little more than the others, if Andrew thinks about it, a lot more. And maybe he has a soft spot for you. He literally shares one flat, one bed, one life with you, trusting you more than the others is not a criminal offence, and Andrew understands the law very well. Because of this, he makes some concessions when it comes to you — sometimes grudgingly, but still.

And the latter is something he's recently come to regret. Specifically, since you got a cat in your flat. A fluffy ball of fur that leaves it on absolutely every dark surface in the flat. It wasn't his idea to get one — Andrew was even against it at first, your training schedule is rigid enough to limit your time at home. But he wasn't adamantly against it, either; it didn't take long to talk him into it. His attitude towards the animal remained a constant, though.

"You're the one who wanted a cat here, I'm a victim of circumstance," he says every time you ask. He means it, his jackets are covered in fur, this furry idiot is constantly trying to lie on your bed because you're forever letting it happen, he's not thrilled about it. But you can still find him with the cat lying on his chest in the living room as he sprawls across the surface of the sofa. Without wristbands on his skin, the atmosphere is absolutely homely, cosy even. The animal purrs loudly as he scratches his chin and Andrew looks at it almost adoringly.

"Little tractor," he chuckles, kissing the cat on the top of it's head and raising an eyebrow at the sound of your footsteps. Of course you're here. "What? It's my cat too,"