Maxxie: chocolate's bad for dogs?Mature

I took a couple of the pictures of me in the school plays, or charity events. They weren't so bad - they were from a distance. While I was taking care to pick ones of me that weren't embarrassing or shitty, Cay just took them all. He claimed they were cute.

They're not.

"We should get a camera," I say randomly as we walk away from the school. I'll regret this later.

"Y'know what else we should get?" I give him a curious look, wondering if what he's about to say is something I will also regret. "A dog."

"A dog?" my eyebrow lifts itself into my hairline.

"Yeah, a dog. Y'know? Four legs, tail, goes woof." He smirks and I whack him playfully, trying not to smile.

"What made you think we should get a dog?" I ask, my mind filling with questions on how we would go about looking after it, who would be responsible for it, where would it live, because a dog would get confused staying in two different apartments, right?

"I've never had a dog before," he shrugs and I smile slightly.

"Neither have I. I wouldn't know where to start with it... I'd probably end up feeding it something that would kill it," I laugh.

"Remind me not to let you near our hypothetical dog with chocolate," he says and I frown.

"Chocolate's bad for dogs?"

"Yes, Max, chocolate's bad for dogs," he tells me in a tone that suggests I'm stupid. Which I probably am. But I get some kind of sympathy for never having owned a dog before, don't I?

"Oh... what kind of dog would we get?"

"I like big dogs. German Shepherds, Samoyeds, stuff like that..." I remember the neighbour had this German Shepherd Collie cross. It was possibly the most gorgeous dog in the world. I suddenly have the urge to go and look for one of those right now. 

"Well if you wanna get a dog, I don't mind," I say, with what is probably a bemused look on my face, "you'll have to tell me what else is bad for them, though."

"It might be easier to just get a book" he grins and I smile.

"Maybe. You can find me one next time we're near a Waterstone's."

He fakes a shocked gasp, "And rob my poor friend Brent of a sale?" he laughs and I do too, shrugging.

"Okay. I'll buy it from him when we get back, then," I tell him. He smiles and drifts off into thought for a moment.

"Boy or girl?"

"I don't mind... you know more about dogs than I do, obviously. You can choose."

"I don't mind either." I roll my eyes, but take his hand, smiling.

"You can choose," I repeat. He kisses my nose, something he's only started doing recently, but still something that makes my smile widen a little. "But maybe when we're back in America. I think choosing a camera will be enough to agonize over for now." He's hell bent on finding photos of me from the past, but I don't think there's a photo of us together yet and at this rate, I'm going to shove him in a photo booth like a gushing teenager and start pulling stupid faces for all the shots.

"You can sort that out. I don't stay still long enough to take photos," he nods and I laugh slightly.

"I'll get one with a high speed setting then?" He chuckles at that and smiles.

"It's all up to you, dollface."

"I get the low responsibility choice," I grin, knowing full well that responsibility does not suit me, "yay me."

"I won't have panic attacks over you feeding the camera something."

"I will," I mutter, "I'll feed it the wrong cable and explode my laptop, knowing me." Why else do you think my laptop is so fucked up?

"I'll just have to make sure you don't then," he laughs and I squeeze his hand slightly.

"Poor Cayden," I smile, "had to find the most high maintenance idiot in the whole of Hollywood." I can't help but wonder who will be easier to look after: me, or a dog?


The End

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