One Shifty Boi | k.th (discontinued ?)

03 | Decision

With a satisfied smile you strut down the sidewalk towards your house, carefully parceled cat in tow.

The cardboard box is silent except for the light, irritated tapping of the cat's paws against the walls of his tiny prison, and you pat the box gently.

"Hush, little guy," you coo comfortingly, and pick up your pace. "We'll be home soon, and then you can get out and stretch your legs."

You had adopted the cat. You hadn't really planned such a thing when you had first stepped into the shop, but you now feel that it had been a good idea.

At least, you hope so.

You remember the bewildered face Jungkook had given you when you chose to adopt the sour-tempered cat, just minutes ago. He had tried in vain to talk you out of it, like a good person, you suppose, but a bad employee.

"You're supposed to make sales, not discourage them." You had said with a grin.

Adopting a cat... you just hope you had made a good decision.

If not, you always did love a nice challenge.

When you finally step into your apartment, you sigh with relief and close the door behind you. A muffled thump emits from the box, and you swiftly move to the center of the living room, crouch and lower the cardboard box, gently, to the carpeted floor.

Slowly you reach out and lift the tabs of the box, and your new companion rises like a tiny feline Jesus ascending from his tomb after days of imprisonment.

Bright, narrowed eyes survey the surrounding area, drinking in every inch of your small yet humble living space. Your apartment is cluttered with mismatched second-hand furniture and an impressive collection of all the seemingly random objects and knickknacks that you keep like a hoarder. It may not be much, but it's your home.

And finally as the curious cat's sharp gaze lands on you and the both of you lock unblinking eyes, you affirm, it is now his home too. You smile, and he flicks one ear.

"Okay," you begin, and speak as if the cat can understand you. "You'll need a name, any suggestions?"

He doesn't say anything, as expected. And he's still in the box. He keeps eyeing the rug below, but hasn't budged a whisker. You hum in thought.

"A street ruffian like you, you've probably already got a name, huh? Everyone in town knows you." You grin to yourself, but then the face drops and you stare horrified at the seemingly innocent-looking feline before you.

"Oh my God, I just brought a notorious criminal into my house."

Your voice is whispered with terror, and then you cackle uproariously to yourself, having a good ol' laugh alone in your empty apartment with just non-human company. You almost swear that you notice the cat roll his eyes.

"Come along, tiny felon." You beckon with one hand and a pleasant smile as you stand and head towards the compact kitchen. "Let's get something for both of us to eat."

The cat remains still, and you notice that only his calculating amber gaze follows closely. Then with one graceful leap, he exits the box and glides on light paws to your side.

With an affectionate twang deep in your chest, you beam down at the silver cat and begin to believe that you made the right decision.