Bun

You had him for three years.He was a rabbit, small and soft, with long floppy ears that dragged on the ground and fur the color of fresh snowfall. His eyes were a deep, liquid brown, and he had a habit of twitching his nose when he was curious.

You named him Bun.

It was a stupid name. You knew it was a stupid name. But he'd responded to it immediately, his ears perking up, his little nose going wild, and you couldn't bring yourself to change it.

For three years, he was your companion. Your comfort. Your quiet, fuzzy shadow.

He slept in a nest of blankets at the foot of your bed. He followed you from room to room, his small feet pattering on the hardwood floors. He sat in your lap while you read, his warmth seeping into your bones, his soft breathing a lullaby that chased away the loneliness.

You woke up on a Tuesday.

The sun was streaming through your curtains, casting golden patterns on the bedroom floor. You stretched, yawned, and reached down to pet Bun, who always slept at the foot of your bed.

Your hand touched something that was not fur.

You sat up, your heart suddenly pounding.

There was a man in your bed.naked man. With silver-white hair that fell in soft waves over pointed ears—ears that twitched at your touch, long and velvety and unmistakably rabbit ears. His face was delicate, almost ethereal, with a small nose that wrinkled in his sleep and a mouth that curved into a contented smile. His body was lean and pale, sprawled across your sheets like he belonged there.

You screamed.

His eyes snapped open—red, bright, familiar. He scrambled back, ears flattening against his head, a high-pitched sound of distress escaping his throat.

"Don't— don't scream—" His voice was soft, young, trembling. "It's me. It's just me."

"Who the hell is me?" You clutched the blanket to your chest, heart pounding. "What are you? How did you get in here? Where's my rabbit?"

His ears drooped. His lower lip wobbled. He looked at you with those big, red eyes, and somehow—impossibly—you recognized the expression. The same look he gave you every morning when you filled his food bowl. The same look he gave you when you came home from work. The same look he gave you when you held him against your chest and whispered that everything would be okay.

"Bun?" you whispered.

His face lit up. His ears perked. He nodded so fast his whole body bounced.