This story starts out with me in jail... and ends with me in jail.
But that's sort of suitable for a story about myself, is it not?
This is more or less a telling of me falling in love with a man I gravely didn't deserve, and him changing my life in...
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"Oh so now you want to make peace?" I questioned Herold as he forcefully nudged his way into my lap.
I was sitting on the floor of John's living room, leaning against his bookshelf as I read more from his insane comic collection. I didn't even know the time anymore, yet I promised myself that after I was done with this next Black Panther issue, I would head home. Joan and I were supposed to grab drinks tonight, but she called me shortly after we got off work tonight, to say something urgent came up. Sure I was bummed, but Joan rarely ever cancelled, and the tone in her voice honestly scared me a little.
She couldn't talk long, so I decided not to dig deeper. We still had tomorrow and Friday in the office together, where I was sure she'd tell me more then. This was when I'd usually guilt trip Alex into going out, but in addition to him cutting out alcohol, he was also on his honeymoon with Christian.
It felt like everyone had somewhere to be tonight except me.
So by default, John's living room floor was the next best thing.
Herold and I didn't start out on the best of terms this morning. The look he gave me when I poured his dry food into his food dish, had told me to make myself useful and go jump off a goddamn bridge. Now it was the evening, and based off his reaction this morning, he didn't take well to the second serving of dry food.
At first he tried to ignore the food dish entirely, and to my surprise, he held out for a decent amount of time. About thirty minutes to be exact, with me justifying staying by making sure he ate.
Well now it was well past the time he caved and ate, so with a full belly, Herold must've decided he wasn't mad at me anymore.
"You miss him, huh?" I asked this this furball as he nuzzled even deeper into my lap, curling his body up so his back feet were close to his head. He fit perfect in the pocket I created by sitting crisscross applesauce. Of course I got no answer from Herold, but I could feel his need for attention whenever he squirmed as I pulled my hand away. "If John let's me," I continued, massaging the tender spot under Herold's chin, "I can come visit again while he's away."
I know this sounded batshit crazy, but when Herold's head tilted up away from his curled body towards me, I swore he understood what I just said. The look he gave me almost converted me over from a dog person to a cat person... well, almost. The battle wounds from Herold were still a little too fresh for me to be completely convinced.
And yet I found myself sitting there, feeling Herold's quick breathes as he drifted to sleep. If it wasn't for his white fur, I would've thought this was the cat from Hocus Pocus with how his relaxation soon pooled into me. Such witchcraft.
I couldn't remember when, or how, but moments later, sleep seduced me also.
