Like Cat And Dog {Finished}

Chapter 4

It’s been three days since you last saw Min Yoongi.

Three days since your heart last attempted to break free from your rib cage. Three days since you last found yourself analysing his every move and look. Three days since your blood warmed every time he glanced your way.

You’ve had three days to sort out your feelings, to tuck them away where they won’t cause you bother. So far your efforts have been less than fruitful. You won’t put a name to those feelings yet. But the word hovers in a back corner of your mind, lit up in flashing neon. Four letters. You won’t be able to avoid it forever.

Your apartment is feeling more and more like a prison, where you are condemned to sit, locked in doubt. If you were to open that door, take a few steps across the short hallway, and knock, you’d get to see his face again. And that thought terrifies you. Because seeing him flicks on that switch inside you, the switch that sends the signals coursing through your blood – energy, charged and dangerous. 

You’ve started to use any excuse to get out of the building: going for walks, shopping, visiting friends. You’ve started visiting the old lady more often as well. After having taken Yoongi’s cat in, she seems a lot happier. Her name is Linda, you’ve discovered, but she insists that you call her ‘aunty’. You always go alone, and she’s always surprised to see you standing on her doorstep, minus Yoongi. The first time she asked where your boyfriend was. Now she’s wise enough to shorten the word to friend. 

When you appear, she’ll always welcome you with a warm smile, a cup of tea and plates piled high with cookies and cakes. She’s always so grateful to see you. Something about this tugs at your insides.

So when you find yourself outside her door, three days since you last saw Yoongi, she greets you with the same crinkled-paper smile. You try to reciprocate it, but something stops the smile midway.

“Are you feeling okay?” Linda asks, taking your arm and leading you into the kitchen, where a pot of tea stands, steaming.

“I’m fine” you reply, trying to convince yourself. The cat comes to greet you, swirling around your feet. She has gotten used to you now, and will even let you stroke her when she’s in the mood.

“Now, dear, you know you can tell me if something’s wrong,” Linda’s face is plastered with concern.

You summon a smile, but it’s half-hearted. Seeing Linda’s kind face flooded with worry sends guilt rippling through you. “To be honest I don’t know what’s the matter myself,” you respond. It’s true.

“Does this have anything to do with that friend of yours?” Linda asks.

“Yoongi?” Your heart summersaults when you utter his name.

Linda nods, watching your face carefully. You’ve come to realise that she’s pretty observant. You wonder how many tell-tale hints are etched upon your face.

Suddenly, you get an unbearable desire to get everything out of your system, so you tell her. Everything. About how thoughts of him keep looping through your mind. About how you feel trapped in your apartment, away from him. Even about the feeling you won’t name, the one that makes you feel both giddy and sick. It feels good to finally lay it all out before yourself.

When you’re finished, a relieved silence hangs in the air, and you let out a breath you never realised you were holding.

“It sounds to me like you’ve already figured out what this is all about,” Linda says at last, “All you need to do is accept it.”

“I don’t want to accept it,” you admit, your voice all but a whisper.

“I understand, dear,” Linda nods, “But you know, I really think it would help if you talked to Yoongi.”