Biscuit

He hated Valentines Day.

Well, he didn’t hate it, he just didn’t know what to do with it.

It felt like a celebration for people who already had someone; a day where the world turned up the volume on romance and it became impossible to ignore.

He’d told himself he was fine, that he had friends, a job he didn’t mind, a warm flat, and enough tea to survive an apocalypse. But still, something was missing.

When he passed the florist and saw the window showcasing hundreds of deep-red roses, his chest did that annoying thing where it felt like it was asking for something. He kept walking; he wasn’t looking for anyone today, not really. He was focused on getting through it.

He ended up near the small community centre by accident. It was sort of place that hosted yoga classes, toddler groups, and the occasional craft or cake fair. The door was propped open by a sign on an easel; written in chalk, it read:

VALENTINES DAY SHELTER FUNDRAISER

Hot drinks, bake sale, meet the dogs

He stopped and stared. He should’ve kept walking. He wasn’t there for the dogs. He wasn’t particularly fond of them, nor did he have the time for one; he could barely keep up with his laundry. But the words ‘hot drinks’ and ‘bake sale’ persuaded him to enter. It was better than going home to sit alone with his thoughts. Right?

The room was warm, bright, and full of life. There were folding tables covered with white cloth and adorning cupcakes frosted with pink icing. Cut out paper heart bunting made by the local primary school was strung across the walls. And a few pens were set up where the dogs sat next to the volunteers.

He hovered near the entrance, unsure what to do with his hands until a cheerful and kind voice said “Hi! Welcome. Fancy a hot chocolate?”

He turned. The volunteer speaking to him had a red jumper on, sleeves rolled up, and flour dusted faintly across her hands. She had that look of genuine happiness. Not polite-happy, real-happy.

He blinked. “Uh…yes please. That sounds…good.”

“Brilliant,” she replied. “I’m Nora.”

“Theo.”

Nora handed him a paper cup; there was whipped cream on top sprinkled with little hearts that concealed a rich, chocolaty delight beneath.

“Thanks” he said.

Nora smiled like she could tell; “Valentine’s Day survival drink”

Theo snorted softly. “Exactly.” She leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically. “You’re safe here. This place is mostly dogs and sugar. Very little romance really.”

Theo’s shoulders relaxed. “For the record, I’m not anti-romance”

Nora’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”

“I’m just…not currently included in it.”

Nora made a sympathetic noise. “Ah, I see. A spectator.” Theo pointed at her with his cup. “Yes, exactly.”

Nora nodded solemnly. “Well, Theo the Spectator, welcome. You can always spectate the dogs today instead. Its much healthier.” He laughed, and it surprised him how easily it came out.

He walked around slowly, sipping his hot chocolate. There was a big Labrador who leaned against the bars of the pen like a tired grandad. A tiny terrier who bounced like a spring, and a calm greyhound who looked like a statue.

Theo didn’t feel the sudden bolt of I need a dog! That people often talked about; he just felt…better and a little lighter. Nora then appeared, holding a tray of cupcakes. Theo glanced at them. “Are those homemade?” he then asked. Nora gasped, “Excuse you? I’m offended.” To which Theo blinked and took that as a yes.

Nora pressed a cupcake into his hand. He took a bite and paused before his eyes widened. Nora watched him expectantly. “Well?”

Theo swallowed. “Okay, that’s annoyingly good.” Nora grinned. “I knew you’d fold.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you do? Lure lonely people in with baked goods?” to which Nora replied, “It’s a community centre fundraiser, Theo. That’s basically the entire strategy.”

He laughed again and it was becoming dangerously easy.

Nora wandered with him, pointing out dogs as if she was giving a tour.

“That one’s Rocket,” she said, gesturing to a springy terrier. “He has never once known peace.” Theo watched Rocket bounce in a circle. “He looks like he’s vibrating.” “He is,” Nora confirmed. “He vibrates constantly. We’re worried he might take off one day.”

Theo moved to the next pen. A greyhound stood with quiet dignity, blinking slowly. “And that one?” Nora’s voice softened. “That’s Mabel. She’s older. Sweetest soul in the world.”

Theo crouched down.

Mabel pressed her nose gently to the bars and thumped her tail once, slow and calm.

Theo felt his throat tighten. “She’s lovely,” he whispered. Nora nodded. “She is.” Theo glanced up. “Does it ever get hard? Being around them, knowing you can’t take them all home?” Nora’s smile turned smaller, more honest. “All the time.”

Theo stood up slowly. “So why do it?”

Nora shrugged. “Because they deserve someone who doesn’t give up on them. And… I know what it feels like to be looked at like you’re too much trouble.”

Theo’s chest tugged. “That’s actually really nice.” Nora’s eyes crinkled. “It is. And the dogs don’t judge you for being awkward.” Theo huffed. “Good. Because I’m spectacularly awkward.” Nora laughed, bright and easy. “Don’t worry. I’ve met worse.” Theo’s lips twitched. “Have you?” Nora nodded solemnly. “A man once asked if a chihuahua could be trained to pull a sled.” Theo stared at her. “You’re lying.” “I swear,” Nora said, dead serious. “I still think about him.”

Theo laughed so hard he nearly choked on his cupcake.

After a while, the room began to thin. Couples left with cupcakes. Kids left with balloons. Theo realised he’d been there nearly an hour.

He hadn’t thought about Valentine’s Day once. Not properly.

Nora came back over, holding a clipboard. “So,” she said, “I have a question for you.” Theo raised an eyebrow. “Go on.” Nora gestured to the last pen in the corner. “Will you come and meet Biscuit?” Theo’s face did something between confusion and panic. “Biscuit?” he repeated. Nora nodded. “He’s our newest. Found outside a bakery last week. We keep trying to give him a more respectable name, but he looks like a Biscuit.”

Theo followed her reluctantly, like he was being led into a trap. The pen was small and inside sat a puppy. Golden-brown. Big ears. Soft eyes. Too small for his own paws. Theo’s heart did a tiny, traitorous flip.

The puppy stared at him for a moment. Then he waddled forward and sat, very politely, as if to say, Hello. I have been expecting you. Theo stared back. He didn’t feel fireworks.

He didn’t feel a grand romantic moment.

What he felt was something quieter. Like something inside him softened without permission. “Oh,” he said under his breath. Nora watched him carefully. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Theo swallowed. “He’s… dangerous.” Nora blinked. “Dangerous?” Theo nodded, still staring. “That’s the kind of face that ruins your entire life.”

Nora burst out laughing. Biscuit yawned, as if he approved. Theo glanced at Nora. “I’m not holding him.” Nora’s grin turned wicked. “Why not?” Theo’s voice dropped. “Because if I hold him, I might… you know.”

Nora’s smile turned warm. “Fall in love?”

He remained silent.

Nora leaned closer to the pen. “Biscuit’s very good at that.”

Theo watched the puppy press his nose to the bars. His heart gave another stupid little tug. Nora crouched down. “He’s not ready to be adopted yet anyway. Still settling in.” Theo blinked. “Oh.” Nora glanced at him. “Is that a relief or a disappointment?”

Theo opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

Because he didn’t know.

And that scared him a little.

Theo soon left, waving awkwardly as he went. Nora waved back with both hands, like she’d known him longer than an hour.

“Come back sometime!” she called. “We’re here every Saturday.” Theo paused in the doorway.

He could’ve said, Yeah, maybe. He could’ve said something casual. Instead, he surprised himself.

“I’d like that,” he said.

And he meant it.

The next Saturday, Theo went back.

And the Saturday after that.

He didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t something he felt like he could explain. He just… liked being there. He liked the way Nora greeted him like he mattered. He liked the way the dogs made the room feel alive. And, without meaning to, Theo became part of it.

Nora taught him how to clean out pens properly. She laughed at him when he got drooled on.

Theo made tea for the volunteers and discovered he was weirdly good at it.

(He blamed his lifelong obsession with tea. Nora called it “your superpower.”) One Saturday, Nora handed him a mop and said, “Congratulations. You’ve levelled up.” Theo stared at the mop. “This is a promotion?” Nora nodded. “Yes. You’re now trusted with the Sacred Mop.” Theo looked around. “Is there… a ceremony?”

Nora put a hand on her chest. “Theo, don’t ruin this for me. I’ve been waiting all week.” Theo laughed, and for a moment, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Safe.

One day, Theo arrived with a bag of biscuits.

The human kind.

Nora spotted them immediately. “Oh!” she said, delighted. “You brought snacks!” Theo lifted the bag. “I thought it would… help. For fundraising.” Nora eyed him suspiciously. “Or did you bring them because of Biscuit?” Theo coughed. “That’s slander.”

Nora grinned. “Theo., I have watched you stand at his pen for fifteen minutes straight and whisper, ‘Hello, sir,’ like you’re addressing a small king.” Theo looked horrified. “I do not whisper.” Nora folded her arms. “You do.” Theo pointed at her. “You are not to tell anyone that.” Nora saluted. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Theo’s mouth twitched.

Then he said, quieter, “I’m glad I came in that day.” Nora’s expression softened instantly. “Me too,” she said.

Weeks passed.

One day, Theo arrived to find Nora sitting on the floor beside Biscuit’s pen. The puppy was bigger now but still had those soft eyes and ridiculous ears. Nora looked up. “Theo.” Theo paused. “What’s wrong?” Nora hesitated. “He’s ready now.”

Theo’s stomach dropped.

His throat felt tight, suddenly.

Nora continued quickly, like she was trying not to make it a big thing.

“He’s been doing really well. He’s got his vaccinations. He’s calmer. He’s… honestly, he’s a brilliant pup.” Theo stared at Biscuit. Biscuit stood up and pressed his nose to the bars.

Theo didn’t move.

He felt the familiar panic rise; that instinct to step back from anything that might change his life. Nora watched him quietly. Then she said, softly, “You know you don’t have to take him.” Theo nodded, too fast. “I know.” Nora added, “But… you’ve been here every week since Valentine’s Day.”

Theo blinked.

Nora smiled, small and sincere. “You didn’t even realise you were looking for somewhere to belong.” Theo’s chest ached.

Not in a bad way.

In a way that felt like truth.

He looked at Nora.

“You’re my friend,” he said suddenly. Nora’s eyes widened, just slightly, like she hadn’t expected it.

Theo’s voice went quieter. “I didn’t think I’d… find that. Not this year.” Nora stood up slowly. Then she smiled properly. “You’re my friend too,” she said. “I’m really glad you came in that day.”

Theo stared at her for a moment.

Then he looked back at Biscuit.

Biscuit wagged his tail.

Theo stepped closer. He crouched. And, finally, he reached out and opened the pen door. Biscuit climbed into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Theo held him.

And he realised, in a sudden, soft rush, that he hadn’t been looking for a Valentine at all. He’d been looking for love. Not the dramatic kind. Not the kind you had to chase. But the kind that showed up quietly and stayed.

Theo held Biscuit close, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

The end