Our dorm room was quiet, except for the soft sound of Chris pacing back and forth. I sat on my bed, arms crossed, refusing to look at him. My powdered donuts—my favorite snack—were gone, and I knew exactly who was responsible.

“Come on,” Chris said, his voice full of guilt. “I didn’t mean to eat all of them. I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

I glared at him, my black-cat energy in full force. “You didn’t ask, Chris. That’s the problem.”

He stopped pacing and looked at me with those big, puppy-dog eyes. His golden hair was messy, and there was still powdered sugar stuck to his face and at the corner of his mouth. He looked ridiculous, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

“I said I’m sorry!” he whined, clutching his chest like I had broken his heart. “I’ll go to the store right now and buy more. I’ll buy ten boxes if it makes you talk to me again.”

I didn’t answer. Ignoring him felt like the only way to make him understand how much this bothered me. But Chris wasn’t the type to give up easily.

He walked over to me, sitting on the edge of my bed. “What if I do all your laundry for a week? Or let you pick every single show we watch? Even the boring ones.”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched, almost smiling. He noticed and took it as a win. Before I could stop him, Chris pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tightly.

“Chris!” I protested, trying to wiggle free.

“Nope,” he said, holding on. “You only let me hug you, and I’m not letting go until you forgive me.”

His warmth was impossible to resist, just like always. With a heavy sigh, I finally gave in. “Fine. But you’re cleaning the dorm for a week.”

Chris lit up, his grin stretching ear to ear. “Absolutely"

As he let go, I reached out and wiped the powdered sugar from the corner of his mouth. “Next time, ask.”

“I promise,” he said quickly, his eyes bright with relief.

And just like that, I couldn’t stay mad at him anymore.