The bunny’s nose twitches, and one ear flops forward almost comically.
The bunny shifts in my arms, pressing its soft head under my chin as if offering comfort. My eyes burn, and I blink rapidly at the ceiling.
“Look at me, getting all emotional.” My fingers continue to stroke through its fur, finding a rhythm that soothes us both. “If Damien could see me now, he’d have material to mock me for months.”
The bunny’s ears twitch at Damien’s name, and I could swear it gives a tiny huff of… what? Agreement? Ridiculous.
“You probably don’t like him either, huh?” I ask, scratching gently between its ears. “He’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.”
The bunny twitches its nose rapidly and presses closer to my hand as if confirming my words.
I run my fingers through the bunny’s fur, feeling the delicate bones beneath, the quick pulse of life. So small, so vulnerable. Like me, when I first arrived here, though I’d die before admitting that to anyone.
“I’m not supposed to be here, you know,” I confide. “I owe a debt to Hudson. I was rejected…” I trail off, then shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I’m as out of place as you are. That is until I can pay what I owe and get out.”
The bunny lifts its head, those eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that makes me pause.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I mutter, glancing away. “I’m not staying. This isn’t my home; these aren’t my people. I don’t belong here.”
The bunny shifts, placing one tiny paw against my cheek in what feels unmistakably like a gesture of comfort.
My throat tightens again, and I swallow hard.
“You’re pretty smart for something so small,” I whisper, gently nudging its paw away. “But trust me, I’m not worth getting attached to. I’m temporary. Just passing through.”
The bunny makes a small sound—almost a grunt of disagreement—and burrows against my neck. Its fur tickles my skin, and I can’t help the small smile that curves my lips.
“Stubborn, too. You remind me of—” I stop, surprised by the comparison that springs to mind. “You actually remind me of Oli. He’s got that same look sometimes, like he sees right through all my bullshit.”
The bunny goes very still for a moment, then resumes its gentle nuzzling. I stroke down its back, marveling at how something so small can exude such a distinct personality.
“Oli is the only one who looks at me like I’m a friend,” I continue, the words flowing now. “Hudson sees me as an obligation, although he’s nice, he keeps his distance. Ethan watches me like I’m a patient to cure. Damien hates my guts for reasons I can’t figure out. And Axel…” I pause, considering. “Axel probably just sees me as entertainment.”
The bunny’s ears perk up, making a sound that almost resembles a chuckle. I narrow my eyes.
“Are you laughing at me, Fluffy? Because that’s not cool.”
In response, the bunny stretches its neck and touches its nose to my chin in what feels like an apology.
“Fine. Apology accepted,” I sigh, unable to maintain even fake annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
We fall into a comfortable silence after that. The bunny settles into the crook of my arm, its breathing gradually slowing. I find myself matching my breaths to its rhythm, the tension I always carry in my shoulders slowly unraveling.
Then, I hear them.
The guys are back for lunch.
I grab the bunny and make my way to the kitchen. “Don’t worry, little guy. You and me against the world, huh?” I murmur.
As I approach the kitchen, deep voices rise and fall in conversation, punctuated by the occasional laugh or grunt.
I clear my throat, and four heads snap toward me in perfect unison.
The conversation dies instantly.
Four pairs of eyes fix on me, then drop to the bundle of fur cradled protectively against my chest.
“Okay, which one of you idiots thought it was a good idea to hide this little angel from me?” I demand.
