Stalker's Tango

3: Trust Me

【ωαяиιиg】: Excessive Swearing, Excessive use of the word "fuck(ing)", A straight white man

sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀɪᴛɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴏʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴs ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄᴏɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ.

♪───Ｏ(✿◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*Ｏ────♪

You tilt your head.

The tiny, orange and white kitty tilts their head.

You tilt your head to the other side.

The tiny kitty mimics your movement, their ears pointed in your direction. They're a bit big, but you know they'll grow into them.

Heart was also born with big and lop ears. You thought when he would get older, the lop ears would eventually fix itself like most puppies who are born with that misshapen trait. But alas, it did not happen. The vet did assure you that he would be completely fine though, and that it was just a new trait with domestic dogs.

May also has lop ears to a degree, but that's more because of his breed, rather than being a mutation like with Heart.

Max, your sweet boy, he's just a cool German Shepard with his pointed ears.

Hmmm...

"An orange tabby cat," A random dude's voice suddenly speaks from your right, "Cute. Looks dead inside with those dark eyes, though."

You scoff and look at the white man who had the audacity to say that to the cute little cat.

Oh-

He really was a white man. He has brown hair that was parted at a side with epic sideburns. His eyebrows were particularly thick, too. He smells like cigarettes.

His dark brown eyes shift to look at you.

You pout ever so slightly, "This good girl is not dead inside, okay? She's just a little-"

"-He."

"Huh?"

Lucky for you, the man doesn't seem to mind that your dogs are sniffing his legs. The man pulls his hand out of the pocket of his mustard-colored jacket, bringing it up to point to the window separating you and the cat.

His hand was wrapped in bandages, the tip of his fingers were the only part that was exposed. He presses his index finger against the card taped to the window. The cat lowers his head to try and smell through the glass.

Ah, it's true. The cat, whose name is Butters(for now), is a boy. He's only six months old; he's already fixed and is caught up on his vaccines for now.

"You'll rarely find a female orange tabby." The white man informs.

"Oh!" You clear your throat and tug the dog's leashes when they start to get too close to the white man's crotch, "Well, still. He's not dead inside, he's just... no thoughts."

"...No thoughts?"

You nod, "Head empty."

"Head empty..." The man slowly nods, pulling his hand away, "Okay. Sure. Sounds about right."

Hmm.

You smile wide, "I'm going to adopt him."

The man widens his eyes and looks down at your dogs, "Um... is that a safe idea?"

"Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't it be?" You roll your eyes, feeling offended on your dog's behalf, "My dogs are huge, but they're not violent. And they're such big weenies. If anything, the cat will make them his bitches."