It had been a complete accident. Realistically, it never should have happened. Evan didn’t even like animals.

It was the middle of the day and he’d been out running a few simple errands—mostly leaving a few flyers and advertisements for the food truck, and getting a few more things printed. There was a crowd of people in front of a store at the plaza he was passing through, and if the parking lot hadn’t seemed so hectic he would have just walked around them.

Instead, he carefully tried to weave through them and make his way as quickly as possible to the other side so he could finish up his errands and head home.

But then, there was a sudden pressure on his feet and he froze, thinking someone must have stepped on him. A woman was suddenly running towards him, alarm in her face and he froze as if he expected her to yell at him for doing something wrong.

He’d had nothing to do with her expression though; he realized belatedly that her attention was focused solely on the little dog that had bound away from her and only just landed on his feet. He didn’t remember exactly what she’d said—she’d been talking to the dog about how dangerous it was to run around with all those cars so close, or something. She’d picked up the creature, but in the process, it stretched over her arms, flopped backwards, and licked his face while still upside down.

Evan had no idea what to do, so he stared at the little dog who watched him, tongue hanging out of its mouth as it was carried back to the little pen of puppies running around.

Most animals made Evan tense up; he was reminded too quickly and too bitterly of a time when he had been no more than a beast. He thought too quickly of youma and all the bad memories surrounding them—and yet, here, in broad daylight? Surrounded by people who were looking and laughing and doting on the creatures?

He wasn’t met with the same confusion or fear as seemed to be the norm with him. Instead, he felt a bit like a child when a sudden wave of want passed through him.

For a moment, he stayed rooted to the spot. And then, he followed the woman, and the little dog.

It was small if only because of its young age; it had large ears and large paws and layers of pudgy puppy fat it had yet to grow into. Evan couldn’t remember if he’d touched any of its fur but it looked so soft. He wanted to reach over and comb his fingers through the thick layer of fur near the dog’s mane just to see but he refrained and instead just stood by and observed.

Truthfully, he knew very little about dogs and could only recognize a few distinct breeds. He glanced at the other dogs and puppies but his eyes kept drifting back to the one that ran into him. Even without its currently small size he couldn’t look at it and be intimidated; its tail always seemed to be wagging and it would roll on its back and kick the air to play, or try to curl up with another little ball of fur.

Of all the dogs there, that one was the prettiest, he thought. It was a myriad of colors—mostly cream, with a symmetrical smattering of blacks and browns across its body. It had a cute face that made him think of some stuffed animal he wanted to squeeze.

He didn’t know what he was doing there, or why he lingered. At first, he was content to just watch the puppy. He had forgotten about everyone else in that moment and simply chewed on his lip contemplatively. Still, it wasn’t long before one of the volunteers was making conversation with him.

For forty five minutes he had a conversation with a complete stranger, and not once did he feel unsafe or clam up—even though he had so many questions he didn’t know how she’d been so patient with him.

About dogs. About taking care of dogs. About adopting dogs.

They were trying to get some exposure for local animals and clean out some of the shelters; they’d had six adoptions already, and Evan couldn’t stop himself from making number seven.

But how could anyone? As he spoke, he’d watched the little dog that had been so friendly with him—even if only by accident. It played well with the others, ran around until it wore itself out, snuggled up with a toy so cutely. It watched people as they came close, but it always seemed to go back to Evan and look up at him.

The volunteer had asked if Evan wanted to hold the dog once, and he declined. She asked a second time, a few minutes later, and he said yes.

It took seconds for him to realize he was in love.

The little ball of warm fur, tail wagging, that snuggled into the crook of his neck and licked every patch of skin it could reach, and then wore itself out and tried to go to sleep in his arms.

Evan didn’t dare put the dog down in case someone else tried to snatch it up. He held the puppy the entire time he signed papers. It wanted to cuddle. It wanted to be in his arms. It wanted to go home—with him.

Evan spent three hundred dollars on food and toys and everything they said he needed and he would have spent twice that if they’d said he needed to because he felt so warm inside. He’d cried, a little, but he hoped the sunglasses had been enough to hide that. It wasn’t sadness, but he had no idea what it was.

He just knew that he loved this little dog and he didn’t know if he could live without it. It didn’t even occur to him that he should have asked Cambria before he bought everything and signed all the paperwork. It had just seemed like such a necessity, he couldn’t stop himself.

He needed this.

He walked all the way home, ignoring the burning pain in his arm from shouldering the weight of the messenger back. It bulged awkwardly, but this was important enough to Evan that he had persisted. Bags dangled from his arms and he could feel himself losing strength, but he didn’t regret or doubt this decision.

He hadn’t made the dog walk the entire way back to the house, but after a while it just seemed cruel to try and hold the puppy who was sniffing the air so excitedly. Evan attached the leash and let the puppy sniff as they walked home.

Half a block from the house, he’d scooped the creature up. His arms burned, but he was happy—and so was the puppy, who nuzzled close to him and almost immediately seemed to be trying to go back to sleep.

Evan couldn’t help but smile; he had a fresh burst of energy suddenly flood through him and he walked a little faster towards the house.

It wasn’t until he saw Cambria’s car in the driveway that he realized he probably should have spent all this time planning on how he was going to reveal the dog to her.

He faltered, for only a moment, but he didn’t have the strength to delay getting to the house and setting these things down. There was no plan of reveal; he should have gotten her flowers and chocolate or something to butter her up.

He should have texted her, should have called her from the adoption set up.

Should have, but didn’t.

Instead, he’d made this decision on his own, and he didn’t think he could take the dog back.

He needed it—and maybe he just needed a little more time to figure out how to tell Cambria. He wasn’t sure he could handle any sort of talks right now, and he didn’t want to risk ruining his good mood by getting yelled out.

…He’d figure this out, just…maybe not right now.

He had reached the doorstep and figured he didn’t have much time to get in and get to his room.

Evan drew in a breath and closed his eyes as he tried to prepare himself.

The dog in his arms looked up at him sleepily, shifted positions, and licked at his hand.

Warmth flooded through his stomach again, and even if he realized he wasn’t in the best situation because he hadn’t gotten permission, Evan knew he’d made the right choice—at least, for himself. He didn’t know how much he’d needed it until it was right in front of him, and he hoped—more than anything—that Cambria could understand.

He hoped he could explain it.

He hoped he could maintain his resolve.

…He hoped he could get to his room before he had to explain this.