Amalgamation

CHAPTER SIX

A/N: WARNING!!! SMUTTY CHAPTER AHEAD!

This has got to be the longest bout of flu to have ever existed. Nearly a week later and I am only just nearly fully functional. Of course, Jin won't allow me to return to work until I am a hundred percent, so there's been less than nothing to do. Between the sickness and the perplexity of having more free time than I can honestly remember having just about ever, I was compelled to do nothing more than sleep for the first couple of days. But now that I'm infinitely more alert I've realized that this is the first time I've spent such an extensive amount of time with a Suga who is not consistently trying to pick a fight. It's odd, to say the least.

In fact, over the past few days, Suga has been almost suffocatingly considerate of me. And yes, it is as strange as it sounds. I can't help but notice the small things that he does, just here and there, when he believes I am not watching. Such as the blanket incident five days ago. Or when, just earlier today, he'd left a glass of water and some Ibuprofen on the bedside table directly within my reach.

Obviously, he'd believed me asleep. If he had noticed the way one of my eyes had cracked open he'd said nothing. Oh, he's still a snarky asshole, sure enough. But I'm beginning to see something underneath, something that renews in me hope for him and his future. He isn't all bad. I'm not entirely certain why he is so determined to pretend that I don't know it either.

At first, I was all too happy to oblige him. But as the days continue and his behavior grows increasingly more considerate I cannot tamp down the unease that fills me. I have to thank him. It isn't right, him doing all of this and not even receiving a word of thanks for his efforts. It makes me feel so terrible too, to know that he prefers it this way.

Currently, we are strolling through the grocery store together. I grab the items while Suga pushes the cart. All while ignoring the many stares that we receive for his lack of a collar. Not that anyone would dare question him with a human nearly attached to his hip. Ever since I woke up on the couch he has been obstinately refusing to let me out of his sight. But oh, is he sneaky about it. Even so, he's not nearly as inconspicuous as he'd like to believe. It actually almost seems as if he's worried about me.

Suga, for the most part, seems to pay them no mind. The way that he strolls through the store at my side, so casually, is almost as if he's at ease. I cannot contain my hopes that this is the case.

It is after I toss a couple of cans of spam lite, a guilty pleasure of mine, that I notice him making eyes at the cans of tuna. I'm honestly not sure why I hadn't made the connection before, he's a cat hybrid, of course he likes Tuna.

"We can get some, if you like," I tell him gently.

It is an olive branch, a shaky one at best, but I am relieved nonetheless when his face lights up, even if only fractionally.

"Really?" He asks.

I nod my head and do my best to stifle the laugh that threatens to pour from my lips as he excitedly loads a massive amount of tuna into the cart. I don't think I've seen quite this much energy from him in all the time we've spent together. It's endearing.

His enthusiasm persists even as we begin to unload our groceries onto the belt at check out. I say we, but what I really mean is Suga. He unloads the entire cart himself, refusing to allow me to assist in any way.

"That's a hardworking hybrid you got there!" The cashier says. I don't fail to recognize the look of appraisal in her eyes as she studies him. It makes my stomach churn with indignation. Indignation that is only even more deeply aroused by her next words. "Good looking too, if not a bit pretty for my tastes. I know some people who'd pay a pretty penny to borrow him for a night or two though."