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Summary
Robby laughs and Jack doesn't even care if he is making fun of him. It didn’t matter.
“No, I mean it as a good thing.” He says softly and it’s one of those rare moments where Michael lets himself actually speak not with his mind but with heart.
“You’re a good friend Jack. Loyal, comforting and when I walk into a room and you’re there, it’s like you know I’m there. You’re happy to see me and in turn, it makes me… happy. You just make rooms better. You know, like a dog because they make everything better.”
Jack had laughed then.
But the words had lingered.
A dog.
Maybe he was a dog. Not a house dog. Not a pet, no. A stray.
Jack was a stray dog, circling the heels of a man that fed him. A dog that had chewed off his own leg trying to escape. A dog that was kicked, beaten down and starved.
Whining, waiting for love, for affection.Series