Kitty 🐺

Platonic Cuddles

I storm into the house, frustrated enough to scream. The door slamming behind me shook that area of the house, that's how hard it hit.

All day, I've been dealing with slow traffic because of people going to Coachella, and then to add on to it all, Fire and I had been fighting, and we were currently on non-speaking terms.

“Kitty?” Corbyn says from somewhere further into the house.

I ignore the sounds of running, instead going over to the couch. I flop down, face first, into a pillow. I was thoroughly done with today.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Corbyn asks, running to stand next to me.

I shake my head, closing my eyes.

Flinching when I feel a hand rub my upper back, I turn to lay on my cheek, looking at the sandy-haired boy.

He was crouching next to me now, looking at me with an all-too-sympathetic expression.

Finally, I just let the tears fall. All of the pent up anger was trashing my mental health and emotions.

“Hey, hey.” My guy best friend coos, moving his hand to stroke my hair.

“Let's get into pajamas, we can watch whatever you want. I'll get Ice from out back too, okay?” He says, and I just wipe my tears away and nod.

"Platonic cuddles?" I ask, trying to crack a small smile and cheer myself up.

He smiles, standing up, pretty much ignoring my joking question. I don't get up until he's down the hall, and his door closes. I get up, albeit slow, and go to my room as well.

After ten minutes, I was sitting on the couch waiting in a tank top and shorts. It wasn't too late, only 9:30, but I was feeling tired already. Crying drained me, even if it only lasted a minute.

I hear Corbyn's door open, and I perk up, looking down the hall. He comes out, wearing only shorts, with his comforter and a few pillows bundled in his arms.

He sets them on the opposite end of the couch from me, Ice trailing behind him happily.

It took some rearranging, but in the end, Corbyn was laying on his side, back pressed against the couch, while I laid in front of him, my back pressed up to his bare chest. He had his arms around me, his hands linked on my lower stomach. The pillows were propped up so we were comfortable, and the comforter was pulled over us.

"This doesn't seem platonic but whatever." Corbyn mumbles, amused.

My arm dangled down, petting Ice slowly as he slept, curled up. The Greatest Showman played on the TV, illuminating the otherwise dark room.

Although today was rough, it would be okay.

Coachella would soon be over, and I know I'd have a text from Fire in the morning saying she was sorry.