Melting his Heart

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Blind terror engulfs my mind as I flail my arms around, trying to get away.

"Meooowf!"

Huh? A cat?

"What the...?"

The stupid cat sinks its claws more into my neck and I push it away forcefully. It falls to the ground, still graceful and flicks up its tail and glares at me, its yellow eyes gleaming. Don't get me wrong, I love cats but this one has a thing against me. I stand up quickly and go slump on my bed. The adrenaline is wearing off and my breath returns slowly to normal.

Idiot. You are an idiot Misha. I run my hand through my hair, feeling all kinds of stupid. The cat is still sniffing around my house. I squint a little, and make out that it is in fact a he. That explains the grouchiness, I think, feeling annoyed. He might have a grudge against me, but I have to admit that the cat is quite a looker. Soft black fur covers every inch of his slightly plump body. His yellow eyes are still glittering as he jumps up next to me and settles down on the bed.

Thud thud thud.

I jump. Not again!

Thud thud thud.

Oh. I instantly get up and move towards the door. Who'd be knocking at this time of the night? Someone who's heard you screaming your head off, you idiot, the voice in my head snaps at me. Oh well. I open the door, heat creeping up my face, hoping it isn't the shrieking lady again.

A pair of green eyes stare at me. Crap. Now, I am really dead. Here is the murderer himself. I push the door again, so that there is only a slight gap from which he can attack me.

He frowns at me. "Were you screaming?"

I feel goosebumps rise on my arms at his deep husky voice. No. Those are because I'm scared, nothing else. Nope. I take in his clothes, the same ones from before. The black tee brings out his tanned skin.

Vaguely, I remember him asking me a question. "Yep." I say with a fake smile.

His frown deepens.

"Is screaming one of your night time rituals before going to bed?" He asks, his eyebrows going up.

I shake my head, unsure of how to explain without seeming even more mentally challenged.

"I heard a noise and it woke me up. I got up to investigate and this cat jumped right at me. I kind of, kind of freaked out then." I admit sheepishly.

"Cat? Watson?" With that he politely pushes me aside and goes into my apartment, leaving me with my mouth open.

"Is this some kind of a code? Are you crazy?" I feel irritated now, the lack of sleep and my emotional rollercoaster catching up on me. Who in the world does he think he is, just barging into my house?

He heads straight for my bed and picks up the little devil of cat. The cat, no I'm not kidding, licks his nose. I blink at them. Is this some conspiracy?

He looks at me, a slight apology written on his face. "I'm sorry; Watson must have gotten in to your place somehow. I'd been looking for him. Yeah, you've got your window open." He looks at me reproachfully, as if it is my fault. The devil has a cat. That seems plausible.

"That's your cat? No wonder." I sniff. "I'm Misha by the way, and who in the world are you?"

"Nick. I live upstairs."

I nod at that. "Yeah, I heard that lady yelling about it earlier." I say with a smile, as if it is very normal to make small talk with strangers in the middle of the night.

His lips twitch at that. "No one can accuse her of being quiet at least."

I grin at him. He's not that bad. And before I can stop myself, I open my big mouth.

"So what was that thing about you being a murderer, huh?" Way to go Misha. Ask a stranger if he kills people when you're alone with him at 3 A.M.

He stiffens and the little friendliness disappears. His face is stony once again and his walks past me to the door, Watson in his arms.

"Maybe you should ask her. I'll leave, then. 'Night."

And before I can speak a word in my defense, he's out, shutting the door behind him softly and leaving me standing alone.