𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃!|| 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖. ( Rewritten!)

𝐎𝐍𝐄!

𝟙𝟘 : 𝟚𝟞 𝕡𝕞

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

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» [ Die Young ] «

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⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Valentine always thought small cats were slow, but she was very Wrong. The young teen is hot on its tail as she chases it. She's to focus on the small white cat that holds something shiny and its mouth—and that shiny thing the cat holds is something of value that belongs to Valentine.

A little earlier, She snuck out of her home much like she does every night despite her father, who is a cop, telling her not to do so.

But Valentine never listens to her blood. Not one bit.

she sneaks to a place she visits very often at night. Where she goes to feed a specific cat—in an abandoned building (but in all honesty Valentine thinks it's abandoned when truth be told it probably isn't, not things abandoned in Gotham).

"Come back!" She shouts at the cat, hoping that her sudden shout will make the small white cat stop—but it's a stray.

The cat never listens to anyone.

"Lottie!" And yes, Valentine did name the cat, and since the poor teen named it there was no abandoning it now (unsaid rule: if you name something you have to keep it)

She starts to sweat, feeling uncomfortable in her thick blue coat and her breathing becomes uneven and Lottie doesn't show any signs of stopping anytime soon. Her eyes are glued to the animal—unaware of her surroundings and such. The cat hides behind some old boxes and Valentine Stops in front of them, hands on her knees as she catches her breath from her burning lungs. It only takes a minute before she gets her composure together—straightening her posture as she looks around. Boxes are all around and old newspapers are scattered on the ground. She calls out to the cat.

But there's no response, you can't suspect a cat to call or shout back right?

The tried teen gets on all fours crawling around trying to find sight of pure white furry pawns. Every corner, every dark spot the cat was nowhere near. She starts to worry, her heart almost dropping to her stomach as she keeps an eye out. 

For a few minutes, she walks around, calling out to Lottie hoping that she'll bump into the white cat. A few whistles leave her lips—a call out to Lottie. And the soft call of a meow have you perking her head up to the sound. Valentine's speed in her steps quickens for a moment—following the sound before she stoops in front of a window. An old and torn down window, missing its glass as parts of it are shattered on the ground.

There stands the white fur animal. The piece of jewelry in its mouth. Tail moving in a taunting manner—

"Lottie.." The teen calls out once more, her steps are hesitant and slow, and echos of her soft kissing noise can be heard. Her arm Is stretched out, palm facing the cat as it watches her every move with its slit pupils.

With the crunch of the glass under Valentine's foot the cat turns, all four legs bent getting ready to jump. She notices the sudden movement and leaps forward, hoping to catch the cat in her arms, but seeing as the universe seems to have favorites, and Valentine was not one of them, she couldn't reach the white cat in time. She lets out a string of groans and curses as her midsection comes in contact with the stool part of the frame.

"That's for sure leaving a bruise" Valentine mumbles out, rubbing away the pain as Lottie lands herself on the stairway and as it rattles softly she takes a soft leap. The teen doesn't hesitate to jump out the window—feet landing on the rusty iron of a fire escape. It shakes and rattles under her and her grip on the railing tightens a bit as she makes her way down. She takes her time getting down, a part of her is afraid that if she moves too fast the railing from underneath will break.

A breath leaves past her lips—one she didn't know she was holding. Her eyes wander around, trying to find a ball of pure whiteness and there Lottie stands waiting patiently on the other side of the fence that guards the abandoned building. She groans, walking up to the fence and getting a good grip. Valentine doesn't waste a single second of a minute, quickly clumping the fence with ease. She doesn't land on her feet when he reaches the ground on the other side, landing on her knees and hands.

Lottie takes a few steps towards the female, almost in a worried way. Valentine takes this chance to grab ahold of her, but she's too slow. Seeing as the cat jumps backward right before She can grab her. Lottie makes a run for it, making the teen groan as she struggles to get up and catch up.

For a few minutes, she lost the cat, looking through every ally, street, and dumpster there was. But there was no sign of Lottie.

Finally, after searching for so long, the teen spots white. Lottie lays there in the middle of an un-busy street, licking her paw as she cleans herself. The jewelry is no longer in her mouth as it sits beside her on the ground.

Predator vs Prey.

That's what it felt like.

Valentine snuck up on the cat that was oblivious to her surroundings. She takes small steps, careful to not step on anything that would make a slight sound and make her known.

A light on the ground pops up on the streets, the closer it gets the more brighter gets. She pecks her head forward and her heart drops. A car, going a little over the speeding limit, speeding down the street. The tired teen breaks out in a sprint, going as fast as she can to get to the small cat. It was clear the car didn't see the animal lying on the street.

Taking a small leap forward, she's quick to reach out to the cat, stumbling over her feet as she lands safely on the ground, off the street, and moments later the car speeds by. Tired screeching as it makes an unsudden turn.

She frowns, as her eyes land on her knees, her pants are now ripped and her skin is torn from the fall. The cat makes a soft Meow sound, purring gently as Valentine picks her up.

"I thought black cats were supposed to be bad luck"

As a response, Lottie lets out a soft purr. Valentine smiles gently placing the cat down on its paws and pushes herself up—ignoring the burning sensation on her knees as she walks up to the street, looking for the piece of jewelry that the cat had taken earlier that night. She finds it, in one piece as it shimmers under the lamppost light. She bends down, picking up the bracelet before she places it back on her wrist.

Valentine turns to look at the cat, but Lottie is nowhere to be found.

"That damn cat"

She lets out an exhausted sigh, head thrown back as she glances at the sky, and at the corner of her eyes a figure hides itself in the shadows.

And that was a sigh for Valentine to head home and call it a night.