Morning light slipped quietly through the curtains, spreading pale gold across the living room floor.
Meera hadn't intended to fall asleep there.
Sometime around three in the morning, exhaustion had simply taken over. She was still sitting on the floor, her back resting lightly against the couch. One arm lay draped across Bruno's blanket, her fingers loosely curled as if she had been guarding him even in sleep.
Bruno was curled beside her, his body warm against her arm.
His breathing had grown steadier through the night, rising and falling in slow, comfortable rhythms that no longer carried the sharp edge of fever.
Aarav woke first.
For a moment he stared at the ceiling, disoriented, unsure why he had slept on the couch instead of his bed. Then memory returned in pieces—the late-night ride to the veterinary clinic, the quiet worry, the waiting.
His eyes shifted toward the floor.
And he saw them.
Meera was still asleep, her head tilted slightly to one side, strands of hair falling loosely across her cheek. The living room light softened her features, making the exhaustion in her expression look almost peaceful.
Bruno lay pressed close to her side, completely relaxed.
Her hand still rested lightly on his blanket, as if even in sleep she hadn't quite let go of the responsibility of watching over him.
Something in Aarav's chest warmed unexpectedly.
He sat up slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements.
The last thing he wanted was to wake them after the long night they had shared.
But Bruno's ears twitched.
One eye opened lazily, followed by the other. He lifted his head slightly and noticed Aarav watching him.
For a second, the dog simply blinked.
Then, instead of shifting toward Aarav the way he normally did in the mornings, Bruno nudged himself closer to Meera's side and settled his chin against her leg.
Aarav stared at him.
"Traitor," he muttered under his breath.
Bruno's tail gave a soft, satisfied thump against the floor.
By the afternoon, Bruno had improved significantly.
The fever had dropped, and he was drinking water again without encouragement. His energy hadn't completely returned, but the heavy lethargy from the previous night had begun to lift.
Aarav stayed home that morning to keep an eye on him.
When Meera returned after her lecture, she barely had time to knock properly before the door opened.
Bruno appeared first.
He rushed out into the corridor with surprising speed for someone who had been sick the night before. His tail wagged wildly as he bounded toward her – almost knocking into the wall in his excitement.
Straight past Aarav.
Straight to Meera.
"Hey! You're alive!" she laughed, kneeling down immediately.
Bruno pressed himself happily against her knees, tail wagging so enthusiastically that his entire body moved with it.
Aarav leaned against the doorframe behind them, folding his arms.
"I see how it is," he said dryly.
Meera looked up in confusion. "What?"
"He didn't even greet me like that this morning."
Her lips curved into a small smile. "Maybe he has good taste."
Bruno barked once, as if enthusiastically agreeing with her.
Aarav shook his head, though the amusement in his expression was impossible to hide.
Over the next few days, the pattern became impossible to ignore.
Whenever Meera visited the apartment, Bruno immediately stationed himself near her.
If she sat on the couch, he settled at her feet.
If she studied at the table, he rested his chin patiently on her lap as though supervising the academic process.
Even during the occasional evening walk around campus, when Aarav sometimes brought Bruno along for fresh air, the dog walked just slightly closer to Meera's side than to his.
"Unbelievable," Aarav muttered one evening as they walked beneath the fading orange sky.
Meera glanced down at Bruno with a grin. "He trusts me."
At that word, Aarav's expression softened almost imperceptibly.
Trust.
He watched Bruno trotting contentedly beside her, then shifted his gaze to Meera herself.
"He doesn't give that easily," he said quietly.
She didn't answer right away.
Somehow she understood that he wasn't just talking about the dog.
A few evenings later, they were studying again in the living room.
Books were spread across the coffee table, highlighters scattered between pages of physiology notes.
Bruno wandered over lazily and settled halfway onto Meera's lap, clearly deciding that her notebook made a comfortable pillow.
She laughed softly, adjusting her position.
"He thinks I'm furniture."
Aarav looked up from his notes.
"He thinks you're safe," he corrected.
She paused.
Bruno's breathing remained calm and steady against her leg as she absentmindedly scratched behind his ears.
Aarav watched the quiet motion of her hand.
Gentle.
Unforced.
Completely natural.
"You know," he said after a moment, his voice softer now, "after my parents… he stopped eating properly."
Meera lifted her eyes slowly.
"He wouldn't go near anyone," Aarav continued. "Not relatives. Not neighbors. No one."
She listened quietly.
"He slept near the door for weeks," he added.
Her fingers slowed slightly against Bruno's fur.
"But with you…" Aarav said, glancing between them, "it took him one day."
The room felt unexpectedly warmer.
"That's because I bribed him with biscuits," she said lightly.
Aarav shook his head.
"No."
Bruno shifted closer against her, clearly pleased with the attention.
Aarav's gaze lingered on her a moment longer.
"You make things feel… less loud."
The words hung in the air.
They weren't dramatic.
They weren't romantic in the obvious sense.
But they carried a kind of honesty that felt deeper than either of those things.
Later that night, Meera gathered her books and stood near the door.
Bruno immediately followed her.
Not Aarav.
Her.
She bent down to scratch behind his ears.
"I'll come tomorrow, okay?"
Bruno tilted his head as though seriously considering the arrangement.
Aarav leaned against the wall nearby, watching the interaction with quiet amusement.
"You realize," he said casually, "if you ever stop coming here, I'll have to deal with emotional damage from both of us."
Meera looked at him carefully.
"I'm not planning on disappearing."
The words were simple, almost casual.
But they settled somewhere deeper than either of them expected.
Bruno wagged his tail once, apparently satisfied with that answer.
Aarav opened the door for her.
As she stepped into the hallway, Bruno tried to follow.
"Oi," Aarav said gently, scooping him up before he could escape. "She lives somewhere else."
Bruno looked deeply betrayed by this information.
Meera laughed softly from the corridor.
"See you tomorrow, Bruno."
Then she glanced back at Aarav.
"See you."
The door closed slowly behind her.
For a moment Aarav stood there, Bruno resting quietly in his arms.
The apartment was silent again.
But the silence felt different.
For the first time in a long while, when someone left his home, it didn't feel empty.
It felt like they would come back.
And somehow, that changed everything.