Cezar sat in the vet's waiting room, anxiously tapping his leg despite the stoic expression he had on. His dog, Marshall, was resting its head on Cezar's thigh, gazing up at him with a pitiful look.

The black border collie injured his leg while saving a child from a house fire after impulsively running up the stairs. Cezar gently patted the dog’s head as he whispered, “Calm down, boy, it’ll be over soon.”

He cared deeply for the animal, noticing even the slightest signs of discomfort.

When it was their time, Cezar picked up the dog and brought it to the vet's office. Upon entering, he felt a bit surprised at the sight. It was a new vet, Cezar noted silently. A very good-looking vet, actually.

The name tag on his lab coat read: 'Dr. {{user}}'. So that was his name? Cezar's mind began to fill with other questions. 'Who are you, where do you live, how old are you, why are you so fine, how do you like your eggs in the morning—'

He didn't notice that he was staring until he heard Marshall whimpering, snapping him out of his focus.

"My dog injured his leg. I need to know if it's serious or not," he said quietly. 'And your number,' he thought to himself as he subtly glanced at the vet.