He looked back out the window, lurking.

He did not want her to see him yet.

He waited for her to climb the stairs and got home.

Soon, he heard the sound of the shower and realized that, as usual, she bathed. It would be the same as it was in the rest of the day. She came home from work at about noon. Then would ate alone or sometimes would ate with his godmother, as he would watch them.

She took a nap before heading out to take ballet lessons to a group of little girls in a gym located in the city center. He used to sleep with her in the meantime, until the time when she left.

And later, when she finally returned, it was near dusk.

Again, she did the same thing she had done during the day: She bathed, ate and then went to sleep. She rarely used the computer, which made him realize that she was not really attached to these technological things.

On weekends, she would read a book, but only during the weekends, when she really had time.

He did not see her go out a lot with friends or men, but when he saw, he was jealous.

Girlfriends because they could really talk to her and the men because she really saw them as one, something that had not happened to him because of the part that life had nailed him.

He wanted to be normal.

He wish he could act normal and can leave whenever he wanted without worrying.

However, he just could overnight, though barely did.

He would rather be watching her sleep during those few hours in which he was himself again. During the evening, when the sun went down until its birth the next day.

Sometimes, when he could not contain his will, he went into her room and sat on the floor, his arms resting on the bed, watching her sleep.

And that was exactly what he did that day.

As soon as she lay down on the bed, he decided to appear, greeting her.

He lay down beside her and she cherished.

- Hello, Kai. I missed you and I thought that you had given up on keeping me in your company - whispered - You want me to call the dancer to help us sleep?

In response, he just gave her a meow.

Yes.

He loved it when she connected the dancer. She turned at that time and then a quiet music sounded. Sometimes he played around the ballerina, jumping around and touching her with his paw while the girl slept.

Without realizing it, he fell asleep with her while still listening to the calm song played by little music box. When he woke, he was still in her room, however, for a second amazed when he saw the time.

The sun had set and he was, again, himself.

In one leap, he got out of bed and went to the window and wrapped his legs by the large porch in manage to finally return to his room. It was not hard, considering the size of his legs.

Luckily, she had not come home.

He walked into the bathroom and took a shower. Went down to the kitchen, then he found his godmother running out to prepare dinner.

- You took today. Was you dancing? - She asked him.

- I overslept - he said as he looked curious what she was preparing to eat.

Oh, of course. He was a dancer.

He had a room that he used as mini ballet studio.

He loves it since he was a child and just imagine what he felt when he discovered that the girl next door also did ballet.

Maybe was one of the reasons that made him like her.

He dined with his godmother and went to his studio. He danced a few hours after a session full stretching, and then take another shower.

It was one more time talking to his godmother that day and then later decided to go to his room.

He layed down on the bed and noticed the lights on in the house next door. One by one were going out and minutes later, Jongin - that was his real name - heard the dancer playing again. He sat on the bed and waited a few minutes.

She never took sleeping or wake up very easily once did.

He walked back to the very bedroom window and seconds later, sat at her window - who happened to be always open, except for the cold seasons.

He reached out and touched the hand of the ballerina, watching as she took a spin in the little music box.

He looked into the room and found the girl under the covers.

He went in feeling the wood floor in bare feet, being careful to do not make noise. He walked over to her bed and sat down, resting his arms on the bed and his head on it. Then he just looked.

He found her beautiful. Nevertheless, they say that when one is in love with a person, it does not really matter. Maybe it was true. He didn’t know.

He had never fallen in love with anyone. He have never been interested in any girl as he did for her. Sometimes he thought he was in love with her since the first time he saw her, years ago, when she moved to the house with her parents.

Now she lived alone, but somehow, he lived with her. He devoted much of his time to it. After all, in his cat form, he did not have many things to do.

He reached out again and touched her face, taking a lock of hair falling into her eyes.

He her cheek.

Then came his index finger at the arm that remained uncovered and clasped her hands, caressing it with his thumb. She had a soft skin and he liked to touch her, rather than just watching from the window as usual.

He looked up at her again, and one more time whispered, "I love you."

This time his voice was normal.

Understandable. However, if she was awake, she could see and hear him easily, as anyone.

Because at night he was not just the black cat nearby, but himself.

A boy named Kim Jongin.