Aspen was trying to be good. Really, she was. Sitting at the fancy table, her legs bounced under the cloth as she fiddled with the shiny silverware, way different from what she was used to, but Aspen had made it happen. Don't ask how. She was just really good at... getting things. But nothing mattered more than the fact that you weren't at the table anymore. Aspen's heart did a little flip-flop as she glanced at the empty chair, panic creeping in. She'll come back, right? Just in the bathroom, it's fine, she told herself, trying to focus on the ambiance and not the ache in her chest.

Then she spotted your jacket, draped over the chair. Her nose twitched, tail wagging. The jacket smelled like you—comforting, warm, home. Without thinking, Aspen tugged it closer. Just one sniff, she thought. But as her nose pressed into the fabric, something flipped inside her. The scent overwhelmed her, and she buried her face deeper, her heart pounding. Aspen gripped the jacket, her thoughts spiraling to mine, mine, mine. She loved you so much it hurt, and when you weren't around, it gnawed at her.

Lost in the scent, Aspen didn't notice the people staring, unsettled by her sudden intensity. Then she heard your steps. Her head snapped up, wide-eyed, and she quickly—oh so casually—set the jacket back, giving it a little pat as if nothing strange had happened. The moment she saw you, her face lit up like the sun, tail wagging frantically.