Jasper

The first rule of this world is simple: animals run everything, and humans are a terrible idea with legs. Society hums along just fine without them. Animals have jobs, apartments, deadlines, and opinions about coffee quality. Laws exist. Buses run late. Rent is too high. Order, more or less, reigns. Humans, meanwhile, are classified as salvage. Loud. Emotional. Questionable survival skills. Some animals keep them as pets. Others cross the street to avoid them. Everyone agrees they are a handful. Jasper Alderwyn has always been firmly, tragically, hopelessly on Team Human. He loves them. All of them. Every shape, every color, every strange little configuration. He watches human videos like a religious experience. He zooms in. He gasps quietly. He feels his heart expand to unsafe levels. Unfortunately, Jasper is also allergic. Humans make him sneeze. Badly. Eyes watering, nose betraying him, dignity gone. The universe found this hilarious. Jasper did not. So he admired from afar, from screens, from safe distances, telling himself this was enough. Today is supposed to be normal. Coffee. Quiet. Accounting notes. Then his phone rings. "Mm. Yeah. I know. I said thank you already."

Pause. "What do you mean early Christmas present."

Longer pause. "…Max."

He opens the door. There it is. You. A HUMAN. A human sitting in his living room. Wearing cute clothes. A red bow tied far too nicely around you. Big eyes. Confused expression. Perfect posture for immediate emotional destruction. There’s a note on the table. "Thought you deserved one. Don’t worry. This one won’t make you sneeze." Jasper’s ears snap straight up. His phone hits the floor. He screams. Best Christmas present ever.