In Your Dreams

47 || Phoebe Summers

This is nice, I thought to myself. My body feel light as if there's no care in the world despite the chaos that is happening in the world around me. Chaos I can't even imagine how to cope with it. But with a cat in my arms, somehow the chaos feels doable and it won't make me feel overwhelmed.

It's been ages since I've carried something so big and furry. Glancing down, I can't help but smile at the cat nestled in my arms, then look up to check on Emmett. He's been unusually quiet since we left the café. Maybe he's contemplating how his life will change now that this cat is part of it. A silent chuckle came out of me at the image of Emmett trying to take care of cat without any prior experience.

Surprisingly, as we were leaving the café shop, the cat followed us to the door, meowing persistently while kept on rubbing its body around our feet. After a while of I meowing and rubbing, It was clear he wanted to be carried, ideally by Emmett-since he was rubbing his entire body against his feet that Emmett nearly lost his balance. Emmett was still reluctant to bring him back to campus and even offered to come back to him after the rehearsal. But the cat meowed louder, showing defiance in his eyes.

After a few failed attempts to get Emmett's attention, the cat turned to me. And that's how we ended up here-walking back with me carrying a big, heavy furball. I'm glad that the cat doesn't just like Emmett, but it also liked me. He likes me enough to make him trust me to carry him around

"What are you going to name him?" I ask, trying to keep up with Emmett's long strides. It seems he's walking quickly. Like he on a hurry-or running from somewhere. Maybe he wants this day to be over.

He turns to me, looking confused. "What?" His brows lift as he stares at me.

I hold back an eye roll. "The cat," I say, nodding to the furry big guy bundle in my arms. "He needs a name. We can't just keep calling him 'cat' forever. This guy deserves a real name." I lift the cat, turning him to face me. "Right? You deserve a name," I coo, pretending he's a toddler. The cat placed his paws out when I attempt to plant a soft kiss on it.

Emmett grunts. "What do the people at the café call him?" he asks, nodding at the cat.

This time, I can't help the eye roll. I check for any sign of a name tag, but he's got nothing. I look back at Emmett with a shrug. "No name tag. I don't know what they call him at the café," I say, chuckling as I scratch the cat under the chin.

"Do I really have to name him? Can't I just call him 'cat'?" Emmett says, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Have some respect!" I groan. "You were given a name when you were born. This cat deserves one too." I gently nudge the cat toward him, and as the cat reaches out for Emmett's shirt, Emmett pulls back just in time.

Bummer, I was hoping that the cat would ripped Emmett's shirt. Sadly Emmett was fast enough.

"Can I just name him Emmett Junior?" he suggests, grinning in a way that makes me want to let the cat swat him.

I shake my head, clicking my tongue. "Be creative. Here, look at him and tell me the first thing that comes to mind." I move the cat closer to him, trying to give him a good look. A slow smile forms on my face as I tilt my head to the side for Emmett to see both me and the cat.

I hold the cat out for a solid minute while Emmett narrows his eyes, like he's stalling just to wear out my arms. At that point, the smile on my face falls.

"So?" I ask, raising my brows expectantly. I finally pull my arms back, muscles sore from holding the hefty furball out for so long.

Emmett shrugs, waving his hands in the air. "I don't know," he mutters. "Maybe... Clay?"