ღHis Kittenღ {Sebastian Michaelis}

o4

‘Every individual werecat has its’ own original way of transforming into a human.’

“What’s that supposed to mean?” [Name] thought back to what the voice in her head told her. She was currently spread across the armrest of the couch, now rolling on her back as she tried figuring this out.

‘Figure out your own way of transforming.’

“ARGH! How do I do that?!” She growled in frustration. It’s been a week since she last became a human, but that's because she hasn’t been able to figure out what the trigger is to transform.

She’s tried self-harming like they do in the movies (biting, cutting). She’s tried chanting (in her mind, of course), and she even tried meditating by imagining to be human while saying, “Think like a human, be the human.”

But nothing worked.

“I don’t want to be a cat anymore,” she whined and released her stress by scratching the couch, but immediately stopped to realize she was ruining Sebastian’s fancy couch. Pulling back her paws, she dropped her ears, “Whoops…sorry,” and jumped off the couch to wait by the window.

After a week of constant fails to switch back, [Name] temporarily gave up on transforming and decided to spend her time learning basic cat behaviors—odd ones, that is.

The first thing she had to learn was using the litter box, because she has needs. And, oh man, that was awkward, especially when Sebastian would walk by while she tried using it. Many times she’d attempt using the actual toilet—which was funny because cats can do that with proper training, but [Name] learned by watching many YouTube videos (after learning to control her paws on the keyboard)... Unfortunately for her, she’d either slip and fall into the toilet bowl or accidently gets caught by Sebastian.

Now that was more awkward, she noted, being caught while squatting from the rim of the toilet…

On the positive side, she’s also learned about Sebastian, how he’s a psychologist and takes many phone calls from disturbed patients and tends to them for hours. He was also a patient man, with a voice so gentle as he spoke through the phone while those on the other side were either yelling or sobbing desperately in need of his counseling.

But [Name] has also learned that Sebastian is a sensitive man. There’s been moments where she’d be staring out the window when Sebastian sits next to her, pats her on the head and picks her up to hold her close. He wouldn’t say anything—he’d just hold her for a few seconds before setting her back down and walks away.

She’s also discovered that, while he’s flipping through his patient’s cases, Sebastian would always stop to stare at a specific case that had a red tab on top of the page. He’d rub his temples and heaved a deep sigh. Curious, [Name] would jump up on his lap to see what he was looking at, but every time her eyes made it on the table, Sebastian would set the case down to pet her.

Click!

“He’s here!” [Name] rose on her fours when the lock to the door flipped open. She was always excited to see him, except this time she sensed someone strange and grimaced at a foreign scent; something foul.

“I’m so sorry to bother you like this, Dr. Michealis,” a woman’s apologetic voice said behind the door that now opened. [Name] backed up around the corner of the couch to watch as Sebastian pull back the key from the lock.

“You said you have an emergency, so I’ll spare the time,” Sebastian assured, smiling, and beckoned the woman inside. “Please come in, Mrs. Alden.”

“Yes, thank you—oh and call me Gwen.” The golden-haired woman walked inside sheepishly to take a seat on the loveseat, where [Name] was now peering around. She observed as Gwen adjusted her blouse, revealing a bit of cleavage, and adjusted her tight pencil skirt.