There are a lot of things that Yifan takes pleasure in, though he's admittedly more inclined towards a love for the simpler things in life. He likes the smell of books, old and new, and finds a fondness in the nostalgia of the too-hot summer days he spent as a child, drinking in just as many fables and tall tales as he did glasses of water. The sound of aged brown parchment, scraping against the dry pads of his fingertips, the soft, but not-so-angry chiding of his mother, scolding him for leaving his books everywhere (but better books than another questionable hobby)—all are memories and feelings that Yifan cherish.

But, alongside his love for books and reading and the colors that orange and pink make when mixed together like hot summer sunsets, Yifan likes the feeling of running his fingers through the feather-soft black hair of his feline hybrid, Tao. He likes the sweet, happy purrs and mewls that escapes Tao’s lips when he's being bathed under a constant stream of affection, of which Yifan loves to supply.

Yifan likes to think he's found a happy combination of all of the things he so adores—he keeps in tune with his own humility and nostalgia, but stays close to the one he loves the most—in his quiet, sleepy little bookstore, a place of wonderment and the mouth of adventure, in a historic, quaint area of downtown, right beside his best friend, Suho’s, bakery, and amongst the shelves (and sometimes on top of them) and hidden amongst pillows and blankets in the little reading alcove that sits at the front of the store, Tao’s glossy black ears and fluffy black tail can often be seen, flickering about and swaying to and fro.

Tao came into Yifan’s life as an answer to all of Yifan’s silent and atoned prayers for companionship to coddle his old, gentle soul, and quite frankly, the hybrid was a surprise as much as he was a gift.

Tao was a stray before Yifan, finding his home underneath bridges and on park benches during warmer evenings, lead only by his judgement and the faint tug of red string around his heart. As cliched and picture perfect as the scenario may seem, Tao, enticed by the warmth emitted from the soft light and high shelves of books in Yifan’s shop, would often loiter in the shop, snuggling himself amongst the blankets and couches in the reading alcove, where he would lay and sunbathe until closing time, content to be somewhere warm and safe, and Yifan, always finding himself somewhat lonely during the quieter hours of the day, enjoyed his silent, strange customer, and didn't have the heart to kick Tao out.

“When did you get a hybrid?” Suho had asked one day, just after two in the afternoon, during his break from the lunch rush next door. He had been planning to have a quick lunch, hovering over the checkout counter at Yifan’s store, when, in crossing the store, he spotted the sleeping hybrid, nestled in blankets, just beneath the window.

Yifan, miles deep into another world, doesn't even look up from his book, Jane Eyre, and hums. “Huh? Oh, him?” He says, marking his page with a yellow tassel.

Suho smiles, glancing back over his shoulder at the hybrid, and then slides a croissant sandwich, placed neatly in a clear box that reads Rose Petal Bakery, across the checkout counter to Yifan.

“Yeah, him. I thought you hated cats.”

Yifan’s face scrunches up, and fearful that the hybrid beneath the blankets had heard Suho, he looks in the direction of the alcove, fairly pleased to find that the strange stray hasn't moved a muscle, and is still sleeping peacefully and adorably, soft purrs rumbling through the sweet thing’s breath every other exhale.

“I do not hate cats.” Yifan defends, opening the box, fairly pleased with the chicken salad croissant sandwich inside. “And he’s not mine. He just kinda hangs out here, I guess.”

Through a bite of his food, Suho snorts, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. “He's loitering? And you haven't kicked him out?”

Yifan scoffs softly with laughter, and shakes his head. “He doesn't bother me.” Yifan gazes fondly at the hybrid again, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Suho, who can't help but smile warmly at the expression.

Yifan isn't really the most social of people, mostly because he's a natural introvert, always preferring the company of books to people, and to see such a love struck swell in Yifan’s eyes is a treat. The sleeping hybrid surely must be special.

“He's cute.” Suho comments, chewing through his food. “Do you know his name?”

Yifan sections half of his sandwich off, setting it off to the side, along with the little bag of chips, and helping himself to the other half. “I think it's Teo?” No, no, Yifan thinks. That doesn't sound right at all. “Tao? Yeah, yeah,” Yifan nods. “It's Tao or Taozi or something like that.”

Suho has known Yifan long enough to be able to tell when Yifan has fallen in love with something—be it a book, a tea, even a rainy day—and Suho can instantly tell that Yifan has fallen for the sleepy hybrid by the window.

“Where’s his owner?”

Yifan frowns at this, and closes the little box that now houses half of a sandwich and an unopened bag of chips, and shrugs.

“I don't know. Sometimes I come out in the mornings and he's out in front of the door, waiting for me, and other times he doesn't come in until later.”

That had been six, almost seven months ago, and Yifan still remembers the heart wrenching night when he came downstairs to double check the locks on the shop, and found his hybrid friend, shivering with blue lips, sitting in the snow in wet clothes. Without thought, Yifan had taken Tao inside and the kitten had just never left.

it ends abruptly bc welcome 2 my blogs where i post things i'll never finish lmao

love yall so much tho

:***