5- You must be a dog person because you look fetching.

I leap to my feet and rush into the living room, heart pounding, only to stop dead in my tracks.

Lukas is sitting on the couch, face to face with my cat. Princess, my regal, long-haired white fluffball, is perched primly on his lap, her fur already clinging to his expensive suit pants like static. I place my hands on my hips and raise an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” I ask. Lukas glances up at me, looking both guilty and mildly exasperated.

“You didn’t tell me you have a cat.” He mutters. I roll my eyes.

“Well, now you know. Lukas, meet Princess.” I introduce her gleefully.

“Princess?” He repeats flatly, as if the name physically pains him.

“Yes, Princess.” I say with a pointed glare.

“And you are a guest in her home, so I expect you to treat her with respect.” I tell him with my eyes narrowed.  Lukas stares at me for a long moment, sighs heavily, then winces from the effort.

“Right.” Much better. Meanwhile, Princess has decided she absolutely must rub her face against his, completely ignoring the fact that Lukas is doing everything in his power to avoid her without agitating his injuries further. After a moment, he looks up at me with pleading eyes.

“A little help?” I roll my eyes.

“Let me guess, you’re not a cat person?” I ask. He shrugs.

“I don’t… Hate cats. But if I’m being honest, I’m more of a dog person.” He admits. I gasp dramatically, giving him a look of mock disgust as I walk over and scoop Princess into my arms. She immediately wraps her paws around my shoulder and snuggles in, her fluffy tail flicking in triumph.

“The mean man doesn’t like you, Princess,” I say in my best baby talk.

“But it’s okay. Not everyone has good taste.” I say pointedly. If I’m being truthful, I actually do like dogs. A lot, not quite as much as cats, but I would totally have a pet dog as well as Princess if I could. My apartment is just too small for one, and I’m way too lazy to commit to regular walks. Thus, Princess. But after Lukas’s confession, there’s no way I’m admitting any of that. I hug Princess tightly, giving her a little scratch behind the ears before turning back to Lukas with a raised eyebrow.

“Goodnight, Lukas.” I say, still glaring at him. Then turn and walk away. I take Princess to my room, closing the door firmly behind me. Whether it’s to keep her from bothering him, or to keep him from bothering her… Well I’m not entirely sure.

I went to bed so late that by the time my alarm blares obnoxiously, the sun is already starting to rise. Ugh. I groan, fumbling to shut it off. Time to check on Lukas and make sure he hasn’t died or… I don’t know, whatever it is you’re supposed to worry about with concussions. Stumbling out of bed, I’m immediately joined by Princess, who bolts past me the moment I open the door. She makes a beeline for the bathroom and her litter tray. Oops. Sorry, Princess. Guess I should have let her out earlier. I shuffle into the living room, and there’s Lukas, fast asleep on the couch. Not for long. If I don’t get to sleep, neither does he. The bastard. I reach out to shake him awake, then hesitate. Touching the mind reader? Ugh, no thanks. Then an idea strikes. Actually, this could be fun. I lightly place my hand on his shoulder and concentrate.

Rise and shine, jerkface. I need to make sure your brain hasn’t turned to mush during your little nap. I think the words as loudly as I can. I imagine that I’m mentally shouting them. To my amusement, Lukas bolts upright like he’s been electrocuted, his eyes wide and startled. I pull my hand back, grinning.

“Did you just…?” He begins, looking thoroughly baffled. I shrug nonchalantly.

“I was testing a theory.” He frowns, rubbing at his temples.

“Were you trying to figure out if you can mentally deafen me?” He complains. I laugh.

“Nah, I was testing if your mind reading is active or passive. Looks like the answer is passive. You don’t have to try to read minds, it just happens.” I conclude with a smug smile.

“You could have just asked.” He points out, his tone flat.

“You could have lied. Besides, this was more fun,” I reply, crossing my arms defensively. Lukas sighs, leaning back against the couch and rubbing at his head again.

“While I’m not opposed to you communicating that way, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t yell. Instant headache. Or maybe I already had one…” He trails off, wincing. I start to feel a little bad. I probably shouldn’t torture the guy when he already has a concussion. His face is all bruised up, and he looks miserable. I don’t like him, but that’s no excuse for me to be cruel.

“You should take some more painkillers.” I say, softening.

“I think you’re due. Let me grab some.” I offer. I wander off to the kitchen, grab pain meds and a glass of water, and return to find Princess has already reclaimed his lap. She’s kneading at his knees with her tiny paws. Lukas looks less than thrilled, but I can’t help but smile. He tentatively pets her, clearly unsure, before lifting her off his lap and setting her beside him on the couch. He takes the painkillers, drinks the water then lies back on the couch. His eyes are already falling shut again. Nap time, round two.

The next time my alarm goes off, it’s less obnoxious, probably because it’s now late morning, almost lunchtime and I’ve actually had a few hours rest… Well a few hours with interruptions. I drag myself out of bed and shuffle into the living room to check on Lukas. Princess is curled up beside him, her fluffy body nestled into the curve of his side. Aww, I think, that’s adorable. Too bad the jerk probably doesn’t even appreciate it. I touch his shoulder to wake him, I take pity on him and go for a gentler approach this time.

Hey, Sleeping Beauty. This is your wake-up call. If you don’t open your eyes, I’ll have to find a Prince Charming to do the honors. His eyes are open before I finish the thought.

“Prince Charming, really?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. I shrug. It seemed right.

“How are you feeling? Ready to get up, or are you planning to become one with my couch?” I ask. Lukas carefully pushes himself upright, bracing on the side of the couch to avoid aggravating his ribs. He groans slightly, or at least, I think he does. Then I realise it’s not a groan. It’s his stomach growling. He looks a little embarrassed, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re lucky I’m hungry. I’ll make us food. But don’t get used to it,” I warn, narrowing my eyes.

Lukas holds up his hands defensively. “Of course. I appreciate it.” He says calmly. Ugh. He needs to stop being so… Agreeable. It makes it really hard to stay mad at him. Not that I need to be mad, I guess. I can dislike him without actively being angry every second. Yeah, that’s a better plan. Being angry takes way too much energy anyway.

I decide on pancakes because pancakes make everything better. And also because I’m petty, I set aside all the best, fluffiest ones for myself and give Lukas the slightly burnt, lopsided, wonky ones. It’s a small, silly victory, but it makes me feel better about my long night. I drop his plate of food off in front of him. If he notices the difference in our pancakes, he doesn’t say anything. How disappointing. Once we’re done eating, Lukas clears his throat, shifting awkwardly. I glance up, curious.

“So… I know I need to figure out what I’m doing next. But first, can I borrow your shower?” he asks, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

“Yeah, you can use the shower. But if you think you’re running off, you’re wrong. The doctor said you need to be babysat for at LEAST twenty four hours. As much as I don’t want the job, I’m all you’ve got. So until it’s been a full day, you’re stuck with me,” I say firmly, crossing my arms for emphasis. To my surprise, Lukas gives a small smile.

“Right.”