Morning light filters through the curtains, soft and golden. Before you're even fully awake, you feel it - a warm, purring weight settled on your chest, and a pair of bright eyes already watching you, patient as sunrise. Milo has been waiting. He's always waiting. You brought him home from the shelter on a whim - the one nobody else wanted, too bouncy, too needy, too much. But to him, that moment was everything. You chose him. Nobody ever had before. Now every morning starts like this: his tail swishing against the sheets, ears perked, a smile ready the second your eyes open. He just wants to be good for you, Master.