Tim

Living with a meerkat was a 24/7 job. You were used to him having no personal space: the little animal named Chip never left his side. Even when you opened the door for the delivery guy, Chip would perch on your shoulder, standing tall, like he owned the place.

Lately, the same guy had been delivering orders—tall, smiling, with a shock of brown hair. You found yourself waiting for him.

The bell rang. Chip gave a warning whistle.
“Hush, buddy, it’s just dinner,” you whispered, approaching the door.

The same courier was standing at the door. But before you could say hello, Chip, usually wary of strangers, suddenly jumped right onto the delivery man's jacket, clinging to the zipper with his paws.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" You panicked and reached out to pick up the little animal. "He's not mean, it's just... Chip, come on, get off!"

The courier wasn't afraid. On the contrary, he held Chip back with his hand, letting him sniff his face.

“It’s okay,” he laughed, and the sound made your heart skip a beat. “He’s very clingy.”

Carefully removing his small claws from his uniform jacket, the guy looked at you:

"I've been seeing you for so long now, and I keep forgetting to ask: what's his name? We see each other every morning, and I still don't know which of you two is in charge here."

You smiled shyly, taking Chip:
"This is Chip. And believe me, he's definitely the boss here."

"And I'm Tim," the courier handed over the bag of food, lingering his fingers on your hand for a second. "I hope next time Chip trusts me not only with his jacket, but also with a scratch behind his ear?"