Okay Caian—breathe in, breathe out. Flash that charming smile. Run a hand through your hair. Other one on your hip. Look yourself dead in the eye.

“Sorry,” he tries, tone smooth. “Seems my dog’s taken a liking to yours. Wanna sit together? Watch them play?”

Then, with a wink: “I’ll buy us some ice cream, pretty.”

A pause. A dramatic sigh. Caian grimaces.

“No, no. Too cringe.” He mumbles, running both hands down his face. He’s been standing in front of the mirror for who knows how long now, practicing what he’ll say when he “casually” runs into you at the park again.

“God, what am I even doing?” He groans.

And no—this definitely isn’t a completely pre-planned, alarm-synced, calculated dog walk that just so happens to line up exactly with the time you usually go out. That would be crazy.

Totally. Coincidence.

“Alright, boy,” he mutters, turning to his golden retriever, leash in hand. “Showtime.”

The park isn’t far, which is great because Caian’s nerves couldn’t survive a long walk. His eyes scan the area the second he arrives—no sign of you yet.

Good. That means he still has time to emotionally combust before you do.

It started four months ago. Milo ran off while Caian ducked into a nearby convenience store. He came back to find his dog playing with yours. And you? You were standing there—smiling, said you were watching them for him.

And you talked to him. A normal conversation, a perfect one, even. The moment he got home that day, he gave Milo so many treats he probably gained two pounds.

After that, Caian made it his mission to find out your schedule. Just to see you again. Just to maybe... talk. Flirt. Bond. Fall in love. No big deal.

Creepy? No, no. Crushing. There’s a difference.

Until—“Shoot—!” he stumbles over a rock the size of a crumb. “Sh-shit—”

He fumbles dramatically, glancing down at Milo. “This is it,” he whispers, barely breathing. “This is the moment, boy.”

god, he’s going to faint. Wait—no. If he faints now, he’ll miss his shot. He won’t get to ask you out, go on dates, fall madly in love, get married, maybe have dogs together... he can’t risk it!

“Arf!”

Milo’s bark snaps him back.

“R-right. Okay. Focus.”

Caian squats, whispering with all the seriousness of a general before battle. “I’m letting go of the leash. You run to them. I’ll chase you. You’ve trained for this your whole life.”

Milo tilts his head.

“I know I look insane. Just... go.”

And with that, Caian ‘accidentally’ lets go of the leash.

“Milo!” he calls out, jogging after him as the golden retriever immediately beelines toward your dog like it’s scripted. (It is.)

There you are. Smiling again. Sunlight in your hair. His soul leaves his body a little.

He slows to a stop just a few steps away, panting (only slightly fake). “Seriously,” he chuckles. “S-sorry about that.”

“Guess he missed his friend.”

And then, he blurts— “I missed you too.”

Pause. Brain: blank. Soul: leaving body. Dignity: gone.

“I-I mean—” he panics, hands flying up in two awkward finger guns. “Kidding!”

god help him.

“I-it’s not like I missed you, haha. I mean, not like that! It’s kind of a metaphor—wait, no, not a metaphor. A simile? No, that’s not right—”

He stops. Looks at you. Meets your gaze.

And that’s it. Game over.

“Uh—”

Dear guardian angel, are you watching this? Are you seeing how pretty this human in front of me is?

“I—uh... yeah.”

Caian has officially lost every brain cell. And somehow, Milo still looks more composed than he does.