Page 16 of Reluctantly You

I’m barely surviving right now.

I turn my head and hear it start to purr, those bright eyes glaring back at me.

“Fine. You win,” I murmur, throwing my arm over my face again and breathing deeply. I don’t have the fight in me.

I don’t want a fucking cat. I don’t need it. Don’t need the extra responsibility, but here we are. After a few deep, centering inhales, I roll up and onto my feet. The kitten is still hidden so I don’t bother with it. Hopefully it doesn’t piss and shit everywhere.

I sigh and then pull out my phone, placing a quick order online for a litter box, some litter, and a few cans of food.

Just precautions. As soon as I catch it, I’ll send the rodent back outside. Or maybe if I’m feeling nice, I’ll bring it to a shelter.

Probably the former though. I don’t want to go into a fucking shelter. Depressing shitholes. The unwanted all gathered together.

It makes me feel a little too much.

I move into the kitchen, the dark counters and cabinets making me feel slightly claustrophobic as I make myself something to eat. The leftover chicken dish is quick and easy, and by the time I’m done wolfing it down, I see that little fur ball peering out from under the couch.

“You little fuck,” I say as I gulp down some water and move to the sofa.

The puff ball meows loudly at me and I growl back. It scurries back under the couch.Good riddance, I think as I settle down and pull a blanket over me. My eyes blink at the blank TV, seeing my drawn reflection in the screen. Quickly, I grab the remote and stab the buttons, watching in relief as it turns on.

I don’t like what’s staring back at me.

Not at all.

I watch the show in silence, not really hearing or seeing what’s playing out before me. As I lay there, my eyes start to droop, but I startle awake a few hours later when I hear the doorbell.

My eyes fly open and I see that fluffball jump off my chest and skitter under the couch once more.

I look down at my shirt and see cat hair clinging to the fabric. Damn thing was sleeping on me. I stalk to the door and pull it open, collecting the packages stacked at the side.

Don’t know why I’m disappointed it wasn’t my brothers checking up on me. It wasn’t anyone who mattered. Just the delivery guy.

Prying open the boxes, I quickly make work of setting out some food for the kitten before filling the litter box and setting it near the door. Hopefully it uses it.

I don’t think too much about it because I’m tired from my life. Weary.

Ready to sleep forever.

I drag myself to the bedroom and flop down on the bed, pulling the covers haphazardly over me.

The darkness of sleep takes me quickly.

I wake with a crick in my neck, groaning as I roll to the side. As I do, I feel small kitten claws dig into my skin.

I see the godforsaken thing sitting on the bed near me, licking its paws, that cinnamon-roll tail coiled up behind it.

It must have laid on me all night, and because of it, my body instinctively didn’t move. Thus the sore neck.

“I hate you,” I grumble, and the cat just meows loudly, wobbling toward me and sniffing my face.

With a groan, I push myself up and rub at my neck once more.

Fuck, work is going to be miserable again today. Sitting in a dimly lit office while people talk about me behind my back, working for a boss who already dislikes me, and a twink secretary who is far too friendly. I don’t want him smiling at me. He stole my office. His boss stole my future.

I shower the weekend of sleep off of me and haphazardly dress. I set out some more food and water for the cat, who eyes me from atop the couch.

“You better not shit on my floor or I’ll toss you out.”

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