𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

Aren't You Dead

“So, let’s get to business, shall we?”

Layza’s voice is smooth and melodious, a stark contrast to his smug demeanor. We’re sitting—or rather, he’s sitting, and I’m perched—in what I assume is the living room. It’s hard to tell because the space is a chaotic mess.

Books are stacked in haphazard towers everywhere, their covers bright and illustrated like children’s picture books, though the writing is incomprehensible to me. In the corner, a bubbling cauldron emits a sweet, chocolatey aroma, the only pleasant thing about this eccentric room. Every available surface is covered with potted plants, their vines snaking across shelves, tabletops, and even the floor. The centerpiece is a small, round table with a single chair. I’m glad I don’t need to sit because Layza clearly didn’t prepare for guests.

I snap out of my observations as Layza leans back in his chair, his golden eyes fixed on me with an amused glint. “Well?” he prompts.

I nod, acknowledging his question, then glance around the cluttered room. Clearly, this man isn’t going to make things easy for me. If I want his help, I’ll have to earn it—or at least spell it out for him.

Spotting a piece of paper and what looks like a pen, I scamper across the room. Gripping both between my teeth, I climb his flowing robes with practiced ease and hop onto the table. The wood is polished and dark, and I settle across from him, laying the paper flat.

Balancing on my hind legs, I awkwardly hold the pen between my front paws. The scribbles I manage are barely legible, but they’ll do. “Ferrari,” I write in jagged letters, then pause to place a paw on my chest for emphasis.

Layza watches, his lips curving into a smile that’s equal parts amused and condescending. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “But no one mentioned I’d find you as a kitten.” He chuckles, as if he’s made the joke of the century, then bursts into full laughter, slapping the table like it’s a personal drum.

I stare at him, unamused. His sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired.

The laughter dies abruptly, replaced by a chilling seriousness that sets my fur on edge. “Aren’t you dead?” he asks, his voice low and grave. “Mail arrived last night. Something about your ‘tragic’ death.” He even air quotes the word tragic, like he’s mocking the concept.

This man is too weird. The kind of weird that makes you question every choice that led you to him. If I were his parent, I’d disown him out of sheer principle.

Focusing back on the task, I grab the pen again, scrawling more crooked words. “Ulso killed. Accident. Inside cat.” As an afterthought, I add, “No one knows.”

Layza tilts his head, reading the note carefully. The soft glow from the cauldron casts strange shadows on his face, making him look otherworldly. For a moment, I think he’s going to laugh again, but his expression hardens instead.

“Well,” he finally says, leaning back with a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes. “This just got interesting.”

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but I hold my ground—or rather, my spot on the table. I’ve come too far to back down now.

“And you’re here because you need me to help you get revenge on your beloved fiancé and reinstate you to your former glory?”

Layza leans back in his chair, his golden eyes glinting with amusement as he folds his arms across his chest. The smirk tugging at his lips is smug and lazy, as though he finds my predicament both amusing and beneath him.

I nod, then pause and shake my head furiously.

Grabbing the pen with my paw, I scrawl across the paper: “Kill Ulso. YOU become Chieftain.” I underline YOU for extra emphasis, then slide the paper toward him.

Layza raises an elegant eyebrow, the smirk widening into a grin. “Bold. Or should I say delusional?”

He’s not wrong, so I nod solemnly, earning another loud burst of laughter from him. His head tilts back, and the sound fills the cluttered room, bouncing off the walls and mingling with the faint bubbling of the cauldron.

Glad I could be his entertainment. Maybe I should find a red nose and a pair of oversized shoes to complete my clown persona.

Once his laughter dies down, he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Why don’t you want to be the Chieftain?”

I hesitate. There’s no way I can tell him the truth—that it’s not up to me, that this mission is tied to my survival. But if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t want to be Chieftain even if it were an option. Too much responsibility, too much effort.

“Lazy,” I write simply, shrugging for emphasis.

Layza explodes into laughter again, clutching his stomach as if I’ve just told the best joke in the universe. I sit quietly, watching his perfectly sculpted face contort in hilarity, wondering how he doesn’t have permanent laugh lines from all this.

“I’m lazy too!” he finally chokes out, wiping a tear from his eye. “So, unfortunately, I’m going to have to reject your ‘mutually beneficial’ proposal, Ferrari.” He air quotes with his fingers, the mockery evident.

My claws instinctively extend, scraping against the table. Can I scratch his face? Just once? The thought is tempting.

Unbothered by my clear irritation, Layza pushes himself to his feet and strides toward the cauldron, the trailing fabric of his robe sweeping along the floor. He doesn’t even offer me a drink—how charming. If there are any gods in this world, I hope they curse this man with the worst pain imaginable.

He pauses by the cauldron, his back to me, and speaks in that smooth, condescending tone. “If you’re looking for the exit, just go back to where you appeared and remember the numbers you typed in. I won’t be showing you out.”

Turning slightly, he smirks over his shoulder. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ferrari inside a kitten.” His words are taunting, almost playful, but the amusement in his tone is infuriating.

And with that, he vanishes into another part of the house, leaving me fuming on the table.

I glare at the empty doorway, tail flicking in frustration. “Mreowww!” My angry cry echoes in the room. If this man weren’t the key to my survival, I’d swear vengeance right here and now.

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A/N: Layza is HAWT. Not as hot as me but still... pretty hot.