Dan and Phil Prefs

How You Meet

"So is you like a posh kid or somethin'?"

Dan: You were staring at the clock opposite of the register where you were waiting for your part-time shift at your local bookstore to end. It was a slow day, nothing much happening at all until an older man approached the desk with a book in hand.

"Um, excuse me, miss. Do you have anymore copies of the second book in the trilogy?" he asked, pointing to the cover.

"Oh, no," you frowned as you glanced at the title. "We're all sold out." The book was wildly popular, and its spot on the shelf would be empty as soon as more copies were restocked.

"Are you sure?" The grey-haired man argued, a deeper frown now on his face. "You probably don't even know what you're doing! Let me speak to a manager - him," he demanded angrily, pointing to the first male he could find out of the usual group of female employees, as if testosterone could get him the book he wanted.

You were about to tell him off, to rub in the fact that your shift manager was too busy to speak to him until a younger customer neared the desk, his dark brows arched in anger.

"I think you might need to calm down a little. In case you haven't noticed, the book is a New York Times Bestseller and only had two thousand copies released to two million excited fans. You're just gonna have to wait your turn, mate," he said, his brown eyes reflecting fake sympathy. "By the way, I'm pretty sure her being a female has no correlation to her knowledge on which books are in stock."

You couldn't help but to bite your lips to keep from cheering him on aloud. And as the angry sexist stormed out of the shop, you met eyes with the casual and smooth stranger that saved your pride.

"Sorry you had to deal with that," he mumbled, much more shy now. But his dimples were obvious as was your attraction to him. He was so casual; he had nicely cut dark brown hair, a black shirt, some black studs, and an average kind of appeal that made you want him more. "Did I say too much?" He began to worry when you chose to stare at his aesthetic instead of respond.

"N-No," you stammered. "You said all the right things. Thank you for that. How about I pay for your purchase this time?"

He furrowed his brows again and scoffed. "No way!"

"Please?" you begged. "It's the least I can do!"

"Ugh, okay, fine," he groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes. "But I get to buy you a meal or something next."

You grinned as his face began to go pink but his dimpled smile returned. "Okay. Deal."

Phil: Working at an animal shelter had its ups and downs. On the upside, you had dozens of furry cuties to look forward to meeting and interacting with, each of them growing and supplying you and any other employees or visitors with unconditional love. You were also the hand taking part in saving little animal lives, helping them find permanent, loving homes for the couple of decades they had to live.

But the downside was today: adoption day. Your manager had warned you plenty of times not to choose any favorites to become too attached to - not because it would hurt other dogs' feelings, but because it would be too hard to let go. But you couldn't help it! When the cute little Pembroke Welsh Corgi named Muffy had come into the pound emaciated and scared of human hands, your heart was sold!

You practically raised her; restoring her to a healthy weight, teaching her how to interact with other dogs, and showing her that humans are capable of love and compassion. And the fact that someone was taking her away and you wouldn't be able to see her everyday nearly broke your heart.

Luckily, your manager was nice enough to let you send her off with her new owner as a final goodbye. You held her in your arms tight and nuzzled her freshly groomed fur as you walked into the front lounge.

"Oh my gosh! She's even cuter and prettier than the last time I saw her!" A ridiculously tall and ridiculously blue-eyed man exclaimed as you walked into the room with Muffy. "Come here!" he coaxed. You had to admit that with his big, dorky glasses and crinkly-eyed smile and excitement, Muffy's new owner was adorable. But you were still worried.

Muffy squirmed to get out of your arms and into his as you approached him, then she licked his chin excitedly.

"Hi, baby! Oh, you're so cute!" he gushed.

"Yeah," you said sadly, not looking up, tears stinging in your eyes. "I love her... Just promise you'll maybe write to us in a few months, tell us how she's doing."

"I'll make sure my mum will. I'm getting her for my mum. She gets quite nostalgic and lonely without me or my brother Martyn around."

"She's gonna love her." Your voice was flat with heartache.

"I know! I-" He paused and looked at you with wide eyes and a sympathetic pout when he realized what was going on. "No, you're crying!" he half crooned, half panicked. "Don't cry! My mum loves dogs! We had a dog before! She'll be taken care of!" He said, doing his very best to cheer you up.

"I- I know... I'll just miss her so much." You sniffled and weakly rubbed your eyes.

"Here, just take my number down off the adoption sheet!" He said, holding Muffy in one arm and pushing the adoption owner information towards you. "I can text you, maybe send some videos of her from my mum, maybe have you visit her?"

The weight on your chest lifted, and you looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Really?"

"Really. I never want to see you cry! It's like the saddest thing: Muffy's life story and you crying about leaving her!"

You smiled a bit at his concern then sniffled again. "Thank you, um..." You glanced down at the paper. "Philip. I know she's in good hands." After all, his mum took care of him, and he seemed to be perfect.