Starco : Bad Boy Turns Into A Cat

Ch 5 : I Can Speak Cat Language

  Chapter Five - I can Speak Cat Language 

Author's Note : Do you like fast-paced romance or slow one? I'm always writing slow-paced romance and maybe some of you guys are going to get bored of that.

Who in the hell created mornings? I mean that's a very stupid question knowing that it wasn't anyone's fault but the rotation of the Earth was.

As you can tell, I'm not a morning person. My eyes flung open in a hazy state as I scram with my fingers to get a hold of my darn phone and stop the alarm that's been ringing on my ears for the past 2 minutes.

I groaned, shuffling and sat-right up on the foam, my back aching and my neck sore. That wasn't the best sleep ever. My body was prickling painful because of a certain being.and he calls himself Marco.

Speaking of the devil, I peeked through my soft and ultra-comfortable mattress to see a white whisker stand out. I made sure to rub my eyes to affirm my suspicions.

When I was sure that I wasn't dreaming, I stood up despite my body going against it. Then my mouth unhinged in abrupt shock with my eyes slightly dilated.

He's a fucking cat!

I stood there, staring at the white fur fellow with its fur looking so soft and white fur that reminded you of snow. I could hear it's silent purr and my immense hatred in cats kicked in.

As much as I'd like to adore it and gush how adorable it was, I stare at revolt because that cat was unbearable, especially when human.

I didn't want to get my hands on it's icky fur and instead grabbed a random pen from my desk and used it to poke onto its cheeks. At first, the cat shifted and then it groaned.

Third times the charm, right? I poked the ballpen a little bit with more pressure and the cat's eyes bolt wide awake and with what followed to be series of colourful curses.

Its reddish eyes stare at mine and I took a step back cautiously, hoping that this guy wouldn't lung and claw it's claw onto my poor, average looking face.

"What the hell do you want?" The cat--Marco hissed.

I blinked. He's speaking human language right now, isn't he? I let out an involuntarily chuckle which seemed like my body's way of trying to cope up with this weirdness around me.

I pointed at him, a little bit creeped up that a cat was speaking to me right now. "You're a cat."

It or he? Which one? Either way, he's still a douchebag.

He lifts his paws and started licking on it, with what seemed to be an instinct in his part. He abruptly stopped and stared at me. "Thanks for making the obvious, obvious Ms. Smarty Pants."

"I really thought you were kidding," was the only thing I could muster to utter.

"Are we really that close that I'd make a joke to you?" he sneered, then proceeded on licking his fur like what cats usually do.

"But you seemed like crazy," I tried to reasoned out.

My eyes flung to the wall clock that was hanging on my wall, alongside a handful of posters and drawings I've coloured the past few years. Then I dart my eyes back to the cat. "You aren't going to school?"

Marco chuckled sarcastically. "You think me, a cat, would go to school? Are you hearing yourself right now?"

I crossed my arms, a defiant blush comes across my cheeks. "You're going to be staying at my room, then?"

Marco, the cat, stands up and then stretches his small, slender cat body as he hoped off my bed without any problem as every cat would.

"I'm hungry," his ruby eyes stared at mine. Then I heard a grumble of what seemed like a monster about to devour a girl.

I chuckled at him, still maintaining my distance. "I hear that."

"Well whatever," Marco, in his cat body, walked towards the door with its tail wagging slightly.

. . .

"I wondered where the cat went," my mother's eyes traveled to the cat sitting near my foot. The cat lifts its paws and does a brush-like motion towards its head.

"I see he slept at your room," my mother peeked a smile. "--as far as I've known, you hated cats."

I casually shrugged. "It's a mutual hatred. You wouldn't understand that."

"Well I'm glad your starting to warm up on the new fella," my mother grinned as she went back onto the kitchen and placed the delicious pancake on the separate plates with an abundant amount of syrup dripping onto it.

I glance back at the cat. "What are you doing?"

The cat doesn't answer and just keeps licking its fur. Tch. Cold hearted.

A minute later, my mother comes up with two plates of pancake and my eyes water in delight, my mouth probably drooling at this point.

I feel a soft object purr my feet and I glanced down to see the cat eyeing me with dilated eyes.

I was being petty, but I really wanted to get back to him. So I ignored him and shuffled towards my seat with the pancake in front of me.

My mouth drooled and my mother prepared a separate bowl for the cat, who by the way hissed with his whiskers standing up.

My mother smiled, then bent down and placed the cat bowl filled with milk towards the cat. "Eat your fill up...," my mother glances at me.

"What do you want to name him?"

I smiled sickly. "How about dickens? It's such an adorable cat name."

My mother playfully scowl. "Star! Language!"

The cat mutters. "Your mother is prissy, isn't she?"

My eyes widened, then I stared at my mother in mortification. I glanced at Marco with a death glare but the next thing my mother say surprises me.

"See? Even the cat doesn't agree," my mother smiles. "--it's meowing to say it's disapproval."

I stared at my mother like she's crazy. "Didn't. .you just hear it talk?"

"What do you mean?"

I groaned. "Like human talk."

"You must be tired," my mother states and stands up, leaving Marco with the bowl filled with milk. "--cats don't talk human, Star."

Then the cat and I shared glances.

Does that mean...I'm the only one who can understand him?

June 25, 2020

Not really my proudest chapter since I half-heartedly wrote this. But I'll make the next chapter better.

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