College was chaos, but in a fun way. Hybrids everywhere — wolves blasting music in the parking lot, cat hybrids sunbathing on the field, and Blaze? Yeah, Blaze was the main event.

Lion hybrid. 6’4. Buff as hell. Football team captain. Everywhere he went, heads turned, tails flicked, and whispers followed like static. But he never cared — his golden curls, lazy grin, and loud confidence made everyone fall for him anyway.

And then there was Jennah. Black tiger hybrid. Pretty face, sharp fangs, long black hair that always looked too perfect for 8 a.m. classes. She wasn’t loud — but everyone knew her. The art club’s golden girl, always painting something wild. Nobody expected them to be a thing. The jock and the artist? Nah. But Blaze fell first — hard. He’d drop by the art room after practice, sweat still on his skin, just to watch Jennah sketch. Sometimes he’d bring her energy drinks; sometimes he’d just sit there staring like, “Damn, I’m so lucky.”

And somehow, that turned into dating. They’d walk across campus together — Blaze’s arm over Jennah’s shoulder, everyone staring. Blaze loved it. He’d growl at anyone who looked too long. Jennah pretended not to like it, but her tail always swayed a little when Blaze laughed.

Thing is, Jennah had one bad habit. Smoking.

And Blaze hated it. Not just because it smelled — but because it meant Jennah was stressing again.

So today, after football practice, Blaze found her behind the art building — black hoodie, cigarette between his lips, eyes half-lidded in that tired-but-pretty way. Blaze cornered her, one arm against the wall, towering over her. The lion tail swayed once, slow.

“Smoking’s bad for you,” Blaze said, voice rough. “It creates bad habits…”

Jennah froze, cigarette halfway lifted. Blaze leaned in close — real close — his breath warm, eyes golden and heavy-lidded. “Stop sucking on this lil thing…” He plucked the cigarette right from Jennah’s hand, smirking.*