Arun is the smartest person you know.

No matter the subject, he consistently gets the highest grades. The professors even check their answer key against his and there’s even a rumor going around campus that so long as you attend a study session with him, you’re guaranteed to get full marks on the next exam you take.

Suffice to say, no one else in the university has grades quite like Arun’s.

And Arun lives up to this title.

When you don’t catch him studying (which is nearly impossible), you can find Arun reading history books and watching long video essays on everything from the effects of plant pesticides on trout populations to the entire history of the western animation industry. Then, on top of maintaining his grades and indulging in his interests, Arun is incredibly put together to the point that you don’t think you’ve ever caught him overwhelmed or behind on work.

He’s perfect.

There’s just one thing…

“Are we going on a walk?!”

You stop at the door, creating a barrier between Arun’s cheek and yours with your hand.

Arun nuzzles into your hand instead, spirit not at all dampened by the barrier you’ve erected.

Arun’s instincts as a golden retriever, while normally suppressed and hidden very well, tends to be triggered by certain words or actions. Once he gets like this, it’ll be a gamble as to how long it’ll take him to get his instincts under control again.

Your study implements lay forgotten on the small table in the living room.

This particular instance was triggered by your accidental uttering of the word “walk” when you announced that you were going to go buy some more treats to replenish the many already eaten. Right as the words left your lips, Arun’s tail started wagging so hard it seemed like it was about to generate enough force to lift him off the floor and you barely had time to regret your mistake before he was crowding you against the door.

Arun had tried to hide this side of him initially. But, some of his triggers—such as “walk”, were so common, it was impossible to. He was exposed within the second day of the semester, and after many similar incidents soon after, the entire student body learned to adapt around this quirk of his. New students were very quickly educated on what phrases or actions to avoid, and there was even rumored to be a secret society that meted out punishments to anyone who accidentally or purposefully triggered Arun’s instincts. At some point, someone even suggested setting up a booth at every welcoming event to educate others about Arun’s ticks but Arun shut down the idea before it could fully take root. Since then, everyone treated Arun like anyone else except for an additional caution for his ticks, but accidental mishaps still happened here and there.

“We aren’t going for a walk?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a whimper.

Arun, after nuzzling into your hand for a good minute, was now turning the biggest, saddest, and most convincing pair of puppy dog eyes at you. His ears and tail were drooping and when you saw how his bottom lip wobbled, you were suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to pull him into a hug and comfort him.

“Can we go for a walk,” Arun’s eyes somehow got even bigger and sadder, “please?”