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prompt: I work at the animal shelter and you always come in to pet the cats when you're sad
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The first time he came in, it was a Sunday. Brooklyn was sat behind the front desk with her feet propped up and book in hand. It wasn't unusual that a kid her age would come into the animal shelter on a weekend so she didn't think much of his presence but she did notice him.
Disheveled brown hair, worn in shit, bags under his blue eyes whose color was striking enough to be seen before he even got inside the shop. It reminded her of Charlie, the husky that left the shelter less than a month ago, whose eyes looked impossibly piercing under the awful fluorescent lights of the animal shelter.
The kid who came in stayed for at least fifteen minutes. He didn't approach anyone who worked there, just sat down in front of the caged patch of grass, enclosed for the baby kittens they've just received two days ago.
He left straight afterwards, his eyes noticeably brighter than when he came, and she didn't think much of it.
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Until he came back on a Tuesday. She wasn't surprised by his presence on Sunday because it was the weekend and kids often came to look around but on Tuesday, the bell rang above the front door and when she looked up from the same book, she automatically checked the clock from across the room.
It was 1:45 in the afternoon and she didn't know of any high schools in the area that dismissed students before 3 o'clock. She was positive he wasn't a college student so his presence made her remember him even if he, once again, didn't approach anyone and went straight to the kittens at the corner of their lounge.
Two kittens got adopted last Monday. From where he sat, Brooklyn could only see his back, but the devastation was clear on the way his shoulder hunched.
He stayed for half an hour that day and when he left, Brooklyn tried her best to not think too much about him.
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He came back to the shelter on Wednesday and Thursday and by Friday, it just became ridiculous. He would go straight to the kittens, sit in front of them for almost an hour, and leave with a small smile, replacing the frown he came into the shop with.
So it was Friday, 2:15 pm, and Brooklyn put her book down and finally approached him.
"You could go in if you'd like," She said and he visibly jumped from where he sat, simultaneously startling the brown kitten he was in the middle of petting.
"In the cage?" He asked, eyes wide.
Brooklyn shrugged and bent down to unlock the latch, opening one corner of the gate and letting him step inside. He did it hesitantly, most likely out of fear that the tiny cats were too fragile, but he sat down on one of the stools by the corner regardless and she couldn't help but grin at the sight of him.
