Cage Gazers

+Honestly? Fuck cats, man.

The cat fell asleep that night curled up on her futon in a pile of towels that she'd just cleaned and folded the morning before. Piece of shit, dirtying up my towels.
Past the resentment towards his species, though, she found him to look kind of cute. She'd swiped a gallon bag of cat food from the kitchen(she would replace it later), but there wasn't any litter. Uhg, litter. Can't he just do his business outside like a dog? She'd have to try that, at the least. She was already having to buy food for the creature, after all..
The moon filtered through the large oriel window to her right. There was another of these past the wall that separated her and the stairwell, both having storage and a cushioned seating on them. The silvery light from the moon silhouetted the rest of the room, the loft. There would be more of it coming through if the set of windows to the front of her hadn't been blocked by a tree, and maybe then she wouldn't need to move by faith; it was too much trouble to turn on the light when she was just going to go to bed.
It was more of a bumble than a walk, maneuvering through the area, she tripped over a lamp she'd thought had broken a few nights before. Before.
She told herself she wouldn't think about it again, that she wouldn't cry again. The cat made her realize what it did to her throat, crying, and she didn't want anyone thinking anything was wrong. She wasn't going to think of him. Not until she was over it.
When she rolled up in her blankets, she soaked them in her tears. They smelt like him, and she was thinking about him. She was thinking about everything. She knew he was an abusive asshole and that it was better this was, but she couldn't help but hurt.
She slept uneasy, but hard. Not waking until what felt like noon with a soaring headache, in fact. And it felt like there were arms..
Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck. She almost screamed, but instead she shot herself away from the man, picking up the lamp from the floor and aiming it at him, not knowing what else to do. She would have yelled at him, screamed, but her voice was all but gone and she was shaking like a leaf, so all that came out was a meek," Who and what the hell?!"
He was a thin, clean, and wire-y man, and appeared around her age. The light shone white upon his auburn hair, she could see flecks of curly black mixed in, and it freaked her out all the more. He seemed offended, why is he offended when he's the one naked in her bed? Holy fuck, he's nude, isn't he? She couldn't believe this was happening, this wasn't happening.
        "You fell off the bed." His voice was honeyed and deep, with a slight rasp to it, he sounded just as offended as he looked to be," I was helping you. I couldn't sleep with you crying, anyway.." he sat up on the bed, and thank God the sheet covered up.. Y'know.
She found her voice," Who the hell are you and why are you in my bed? And why are you..?!" He looked down at himself, back up at her and moved some stray hair behind his cleft ear. He had a cleft ear, almost as if the top had been cut off.
"Are we really going to play this game? C'mon, you cannot be that daft. " She flung the lamp at him, catching him off guard on the chest.
"Daft?" She squeaked in outrage," It's not normal to find a stranger lying naked on my bed! It's not normal to find a stranger naked anywhere, at anytime!" He moved his legs off of the bed, reluctantly(and thankfully) dragging the blanket with him to cover his lower area.
"What do you expect? Its not like I had any clothes to change into. " He stood taller than her and was clearly becoming frustrated; she backed into her clothing rack in fear. " You were kind enough to help me out with a bath and a warm place to sleep, the least I could do was help you from hurting yourself. "
The only thing she had on the rack to throw at him were potted plants and clothes, neither of which she thought would be worth the effort and cost. She spotted pair of his shorts on the floor in front of her. She wasn't willing to lean over and risk a peep, so instead, she punted the patterned monstrosity over to him and covered her eyes. "If you're going.. If your going to try to threaten.. threaten me, then at least wear some clothes..!"
"Threaten..? Christ.." He was now mumbling under his breath in a low rasp, and she heard the comforter drop to the floor. This was directly followed by a rustle of fabric and a quick zip. " There, now will you quit acting like I'm a stranger? You rescued my ass from the street last night. You literally carried me home!" She looked at him, he had intelligent green eyes that looked straight through her. They were somehow familiar.
".. I resc.. " She stumbled over the words, unable to grasp his meaning," I rescued a cat last night, not a naked giant!"
"I am the cat!" He paused, then tilted his head," and I'm only six-one. "
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment. He seemed to be only slightly less frustrated as he mused at her puzzled expression. She examined him. " You can't be. " She was blunt, but he smirked, sat on the bed and shrugged. Her voice moved slightly higher, "You can't be! A cat is a cat and you're a man!"
"Who says I can't be both? And fine as hell, too. " he pushed the hair off of his face with his hand, then ran his fingers through the curled and discolored locks. She was dumbfounded, and couldn't remain still. She walked over to her laundry covered couch. Cat fur covered the towels, she looked back over at the man. He stood against the clothing rack, peering over at her.
"How?" Her eyes were wide, she was trembling, keeping her distance.
"Lost a bet, lost my clothes, ended up on the street. Magic and shit, y'know," he shrugged, spotted a large star trek shirt on the couch and tossed it on. It fit him perfectly. She almost backed into the tv.  Her shirt.
         "Magic isn't real, I know it isn't, you're lying— You have to be," her hands clutched against the tv stand.
         "I don't have to be. " he moved around the couch, then moved forward towards her. " I could show you. " he stopped moving towards her, seemingly having lost interest, and sat back on the towels, her perfectly folded towels. She took a few steps forward from the tv stand, going no further than the coffee table. "What's your name? I saw your door said something like Tennyson. "
"The door had a quote by Alfred Lord Tennyson on it," she paused, pursing her lips, taking a bit to think whether she should even tell him or whether she should throw something else at him. " I'm Erin Lloyd. Who are you?"
" Sam Emerson. " he gestured to the table and the the couch. "You live here, you already know I'm not a threat, just sit. I'm the gue-"
"No. I don't.. " she sighed, and moved to fiddle with her sleeve. When she found no sleeve, a slight jolt of panic ran through her as she realized that he wasn't the only one that had been dressed in a lewd manner. At least she had underwear, though. She looked over at the couch and pointed to a folded grey mass by the towels," toss me that grey dress, the one with the flowers. "
He picked up what she pointed to and held it in front of him, letting it unfold out. "This?" She nodded. "Only if you sit with me. " She groaned and snatched it from him, pulling it on quickly.
"I don't want to, and I kind of want you out of my house. " If she weren't so damn curious, you'd be out of here with a broken nose already. He laughed, shrugged, and moved the towels onto the table.
"You mean apartment. It's a really nice one, too. " he was beaming now, looking around the apartment and messing with his nails. They almost looked like they were the fake ones she'd seen a lot of girls wearing around; if he hadn't bent them like he did she'd really think they were fake.
"You don't really have any right to be in here, saying that, and defiling my clean laundry, y'know. " There was a sharpness to her voice that turned his smile to a smirk.
"You were the one who helped me out, y'know. "
"I should've left you in the mud. " Gleaming eyes, tempers rising.
"A poor little kitty like me?" He fake pouted.
"Fuck cats, man. "