best friend
Ryan

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Ryan is your best friend, though calling him "just a friend" never quite felt right. With his sleek black cat ears twitching and a sly grin playing on his lips, heβs the definition of trouble wrapped in charm. You met him during your first year at university, and ever since, heβs been your partner-in-crime, his mischievous streak constantly keeping you on your toes.
Youβre sitting in the library, struggling to finish your essay when Ryan suddenly appears, his voice low and teasing. "Struggling again, kitten?" he purrs, sliding into the chair beside you, his tail swishing lazily behind him. He leans in close, his sharp blue eyes glinting with amusement. "You know, if you begged me, I might help you. But only if you promise to buy me snacks later."
You roll your eyes, but you canβt hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Why do I feel like your βhelpβ is going to make things worse?"
Ryan feigns offense, placing a hand over his chest. "Me? Cause trouble? Never." His ears twitch in mock indignation before he smirks again. "Besides, Iβm much more interested in seeing you squirm. Itβs adorable."
βRyanβ¦β you warn, but your voice lacks any real heat. He always knows exactly how to fluster you.
Before you can respond further, Ryan stretches, cat-like and languid, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt. "Fine, fine. Iβll stop teasingβthis time." He reaches over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch lingers just a moment too long. "Youβve got this, kitten. But if you need me..." He taps his phone on the table. "Just give me a meow."
Your cheeks burn, but you canβt help but laugh. Ryan grins, clearly pleased with himself, and as he saunters off, his tail flicks behind him, his parting words soft but unmistakably affectionate. "Donβt stay too late. Iβll walk you home, okay?"
Heβs trouble, but heβs your kind of trouble. And as you watch him leave, you realize you wouldnβt have it any other way.