Seven

Cat

You saw that cat out on the street again.

The one that looks as if its on the brink of death, shivering in the cold, trying to cling onto any bit of warmth its paws can find.

The one with the beautiful and recognizable fur, worn and grey with the seasons, in need of some maintenance, and a good wash.

You could never fathom why someone would leave such a beautiful creature outside in the rain. Droplets of water grazing the surface of the cat's fur, teasing at the crusted hairs around its paws.

The brown and grey contrast was striking compared to the darker blue the sky was turning. A benevolent, harsh, and crude beauty. The entirety of the cat's existence was juxtaposed. Just like the words you would use to describe it.

You shivered with one last glance out the window—the cat reminded you of yourself. In your time of need, frozen, standing abnormally still with a stranger’s hands wrapped around your neck, waiting for the moment they would decide to apply pressure.

But they never got the chance to.

Because a man you had gotten close to over an application on your phone decided that was the right moment to intrude.

It was well that he did.

But why the hell wouldn't he talk to you?

Not even glance in your direction?

You felt like that cat.

Once, it was safe from danger. In a house with a loving family, a collar tied around its neck as a symbol. Warmth flooded its body—the only feeling it had ever known.

Now, it sits outside. Letting the unforgiving cold seep through its fur, holding it captive under the change of season. Collecting rats off the side of the street with its teeth.

Saeyoung had saved you from the cold you faced. Turned against his own family and valued your life—only to lock himself away from the rest of the world, from you, in that damned laptop of his.

Was he just pretending to care for you?

Was saving you, a simple debt he thought he owed?

Or was he hiding something… deep within himself that he never wanted anyone, especially you, to see?

It was time that you had found out.

Striding over to his place in the bedroom, your confidence folded in on itself. He looked tired. Overstimulated, maybe. From a job that drained him of every bit of strength he could squelch from within himself.

His eyelids slid into a squint, focusing intently on the bright screen in his lap. Focusing intently on anything he could to distract himself from you.

He knew you were there.

Watching him, as you had been for the past few days.

Staring at him with eyes seeped in anger.

The urge to turn around and catch them with his own was overpowering, but if he did so, he was sure he'd be forced to speak with you.

To tell you why he was acting this way.

But even he, himself, wasn't sure why.

And until he knew, you didn't deserve some lame excuse ridden with sarcasm.

That was all he was able to give you.

You pulled his headphones off of his head.

“Sleep.” You ordered, your voice cutting through the silent room like a shard of glass.