It started with the puppy’s wide, pleading eyes. Benny and I had been browsing the adoption center on a lazy Saturday, casually glancing at the animals. But the moment we walked past that cage, I couldn’t look away. The small, scruffy pup had these big brown eyes that seemed to say, Take me home. And before I knew it, Benny was already filling out the paperwork, grinning at me over his shoulder.

"You sure you’re ready for this?" he asked, holding up the leash. His voice was teasing, but his eyes betrayed the excitement, the same look I could feel bubbling up in my chest.

"I’m sure," I said, even though I had no idea what I was getting into.

The puppy’s paws were small, but his energy was boundless. The ride home was a blur of laughter and chaos, the little furball bouncing from seat to seat, already claiming the backseat as his kingdom. Benny was patient, guiding him gently, even though the dog was more interested in chewing on his jacket than listening.

We got home, and Benny let the puppy explore, eyes trained on every little move he made, as if learning how to raise him from scratch. I watched him with a soft smile, a warmth growing in my chest, the familiarity of our friendship slowly tipping into something more.

"I think he likes you," I said, settling onto the couch next to Benny as the puppy sprawled at our feet, exhausted from the excitement.

"I think he likes us both," Benny replied, nudging me with his elbow. "But honestly, I think we’re going to need all the help we can get."

I laughed, nudging him back. "You’re not the expert, huh?"

"Not exactly," he grinned. "But I’ve got you to help me."