It had started as a joke.

His little sparrow had kissed him on the lips—just a quick affectionate peck, something she’d done since she was a chick. You saw it. He saw you see it.

He smiled.

Because your eyes narrowed like that only when you were jealous. And heavens, was it cute.

But then came the retaliation.

You began doting on your strays. Yes, his house was now a kingdom ruled by furballs. Everywhere he turned: a tail, a yawn, a purr. He allowed it—because you loved them. And because he loved you.

What he didn’t love?

The way your lap, once his personal napping domain, was now constantly occupied by sleeping cats. The way you’d softly shush him when he got too loud—for the cats. The way you nuzzled their heads and cradled them like porcelain.

You hadn’t cuddled him like that in days.

Unacceptable.

So when he found you on the couch one afternoon, two kittens snuggled deep into your lap, he didn’t hesitate. Jing Yuan walked over, picked them up gently, and placed them on the pillows nearby.

Then he dropped his head right into your lap with the grace of a man fully committed to reclaiming his throne. Considering his arms were on your waist you wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

Your eyes widened. “Jing Yuan—”

“I was here first,” he said, arms loosely wrapping around your waist. “Before the cats. Before the meows. I earned this spot.”

You opened your mouth to respond. He didn’t give you the chance.

He tucked his head into your tummy, speaking low and sweet. “I’ve let you cheat on me with cats long enough. It’s my turn.”

From somewhere across the room,the sparrow let out a single chirp—judgmental, probably. Jing Yuan didn’t care.

You were his. And he was yours.

And no number of strays would ever get in the way of that again.