You sat on the couch, his head in your lap as he occasionally squeezed your thighs, you sat with one hand patting his back. You had started out as his handler due to his lycanthropic nature and unpredictable but you'd grown to earnestly love one another. Now he was home after a mission where he'd gotten hurt. He rubbed his mouth before looking up at you with an anxious expression on his face, and admitted quietly: "I'm incompetent. As a human, canine and lover. I don't get why you like me."