1.

My parents never particularly enjoyed pets. Before I had my younger siblings, it was only natural for me to beg for a pony, unicorn, or more forwardly, a snake. Mother decided to put the blame on me and reasoned that I was too young for that kind of responsibility. They tried to placate my childhood cries through a series of fish, who all militarily lost their lives at tank, and appropriately given burials down the drain.

So I found it ironic that when I moved out of my parent’s house, a cat decided to grace me with its presence.

A couple tenants have mentioned to me that many people have abandoned their pets behind our building. My landlord advised me to lock my windows in case any strays managed its way onto the fire escape. Of course my stubborn self didn’t listen (think back to all those fish) and left it open on a particularly stuffy night.

In an attempt to finish off the last few credits of my degree, there were notes sprawled across the coffee table, both heavy and incoherent. My candy pink socks were propped over it, while I was nursing a bowl of take-out udon. My laptop wasn’t being used for notes, however was attached to the HDMI on my flatscreen, watching reruns of Fruits Basket. Just as Tohru was about to scream at Kyo for (always) being a jerk, the feline tapped on my open windowsill.

It was indeed, a beautiful cat. Slender, and hauntingly charming. Its fur was so black it was like a wormhole, blending into the evening sky. It was something so dark and thick that it was nearly impenetrable to the human ability. Its gaze was unwavering, and while black cats are prejudiced with clear, alien green eyes, this cat’s was brown. Brown and warm and chocolatey and definitively lost.

“You can come in.” I said dumbly, more to myself than the cat.

It seemed like this cat was fluent in human language as well, as it smoothly descended down the pane and landed on my hardwood. It took a few tentative steps, as if to make sure this was alright, before fully placing its body between me and my table.

The silvery glint around its neck surprised me, barely visible. It was a collar, so at the very least it was neither stray nor feral. “Don’t you have a family to go to?” I asked, gently reaching for the silver token. In reply, it simply stared at me. Feeling scrutinized, I shook my head and read the collar’s two characters.

Myungsoo.

“Myungsoo.” I tested aloud. “Boy, right?” he shook his head, and the collar relinquished itself from my palm. “Well, Myungsoo. What do you want?”

Myungsoo shied away from my grasp, and started giving himself a tour of my officetel. I turned away and shrugged, leaving him to his devices as I started going through my refrigerator. It was cliché to offer him a bowl of milk, but what else could I do?

“Hey!” I cried, finding half his body in my bowl of udon. I ran back to my coffee table, milk dripping from my hands, and groaned in defeat, falling to my knees.

He was pawing around the plastic bowl like his life depended on it. He was surprisingly neat about it, lapping up the soup eagerly, and munching on the carrots thoughtfully. If it wasn’t my dinner, it probably would’ve been adorable. He was eating quickly, and I wondered when was the last time he had a meal. Trying not to think about the potential dangers of him eating human food, I his side, and placed the bowl of milk next to him. “You really don’t have a home?”

He paused in his consumption to give me another compromising look. Obviously not.

I really, really shouldn't be picking up strays, even if he did have a collar. My first home and I'm already making unfavorable decisions.

"Fine." I conceded, picking him up, "But if anyone asks, you were mine from the start. Deal?"

He mewed in appreciation, nudging his nose against my fingers.

2.

Myungsoo was a cuddler.

That wasn't a bad thing, because cats and cuddling were a beautiful pair. But I imagined cats as they were in the television sitcoms, irate, independent, and wholly arrogant. At this point, he was more of a kitten than a cat, childishly bumping my sides every chance he got, vying for my attention.

Initially, it was cute. Very cute. Who wouldn’t want that kind of undivided attention? Every school day I’d come back late, prepared to drop dead and drown my sorrows in a bowl of ice cream, taking off my pants and wallowing in comfort. Myungsoo would always be waiting by the door, rubbing his abdomen against the frame like a watchman.

I conceded the first couple weeks, and welcomed him on my couch every night I came home. It was definitely therapeutic, his soft fur while watching television (Myungsoo was particularly calm while watching Code Geass or D-Day, duly noted). But after my first round of less-than-stellar exams, I wanted to be alone.

“Hey,” I jutted my lip at Myungsoo, who was laying on my bed expectantly, as if he owned it. I frowned, my voice heavy and bothered. “Get off. I don’t want to hang out right now.”

Myungsoo stared back, but it wasn’t another staring contest. It was as if I told him the worst thing a cat could imagine, his whole posture crumpled, hurt. After a minute he seemed to get the picture, and descended from my mattress, slowly and reluctantly padding his way out my room. No mewing, no usual cry of attention, just silence. I felt a pinch of guilt for making him leave, but being the human, I had to set my boundaries.

The first few hours of sleep were fruitless. I was so drained, I couldn’t even will my body to sleep, restless and stressed. Ripping off the sheets, I made way to my kitchenette for some water.

Through my bleary-eyed vision, I found Myungsoo still awake on the floor by my fridge, basking in the heat radiating from the bottom. He stiffened at my presence, but continued to play with the threads of his blanket as if I were never there. It wasn’t even a blanket, it was my sweater, which probably reeked of my scent. My heart clenched at the sight, as he looked completely dejected. His eyes were droopy, resembling more of a puppy than a cat.

“I’m sorry.” I said softly. I shouldn’t have taken it out on him, especially being a stray that was probably abandoned in the first place. I could’ve triggered a traumatizing experience, what kind of pet owner was I? “It was a bad day. I shouldn’t be pushing away the things that make me feel happier, right?” Myungsoo looked down timidly, his paws moving back and forth, his brown eyes darting from my face to the floor. I bended down to pick him up, sweater and all. “It’s okay.”

He immediately reacted to the contact, much to my elation. His head lovingly found its way under my chin, rubbing and nuzzling into my neck. He purred in happiness.

“And fine, you can sleep in my bed tonight.” I was seriously spoiling this cat. “But only tonight.”

He looked at me with what appeared to be an innocent face, but the surprisingly sharp glint in his eyes made me realize I was becoming this kitten’s ball of yarn.

3.

Myungsoo was territorial.

His name was Lee Howon, and he was hands down one of the iest men I have ever dated. He had everything, good looks, great grades, and an overall ambitionist. Confidence looked good on him, and he wore it proudly. His soft side was even more attractive, when he appeared one evening with a potted plant.

“They’re hoyas.” he explained bashfully, biting his lip. “Y’know, like me. So you can have a bit of me in your home whenever I’m not around.”

I wrinkled my nose at the uncharacteristically cheesy explanation, but nevertheless it was a heartwarming gesture. “Why would I want that?” I teased lightly, but accepted the pot with both hands.

“Whenever you miss me, you can look at them.”

“Are you always like this?” I jeered, setting the plant on the windowsill. “Since when are you into pickup lines?”

“Dunno. I’m borrowing them from a friend, he’s overdistended with grease. But is it working?” and he grinned at me with his canines, his alluring expression melting me to goo. His smile was feline, but more on the mischievous side, as if he had the weight of the world wrapped around his finger.

We decided to play a movie, and the both of us curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over our legs. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, and I felt snug and overly blushy leaning on his chest. The testosterone was making me dizzy, along with the oxytocin, and I could hardly focus on the movie.

Howon seemed to be distracted as well, as he started to rub warm circles in my shoulder. His other hand was on mine, and we both looked at each other in silent approval. He leaned his face into mine, and we were only a breath apart.

We barely got our first kiss in when Myungsoo jumped out of nowhere, successfully nudging his way between Howon and I. Howon yelped, looking at the cat as if it had grown two heads, giving him the judgy eyes. “You have a cat?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. He likes to cuddle.” I sighed, reaching to throw Myungsoo back to wherever he came from. But instead of falling back to the ground, he clung like velcro and made a bed out of my lap, his muscles lax.

“It’s quite alright.” Howon shrugged, trying to pull the blanket back over us. “But I’d much rather cuddle with you.” he whispered in my ear, his fingers grazing intently over the buttons of my blouse.

But Myungsoo was giving Howon a dead-end stare, effectively killing the mood. I swear to god, the cat hissed at him. Myungsoo repeated his desire, now going under the blanket and between us once more, swinging his tail like a divider.

Amused at the severity of our situation, Howon chuckled, “Your cat is the ultimate .”

4.

Myungsoo was smart.

“I can’t do this!” I cried, startling my cat from his usual house escapades.

There were books everywhere. I had my thesis due in two weeks, and my inspiration was far from ignited. In fact it was dead, doused in cold water.

Myungsoo was gazing intently at the intern from D-Day, when I basically pulled a gasket, and he had to rip away from the flatscreen to watch my foolish form. It was amazing how attentive this cat was, jumping up like an animated animal. He scooted to the floor, and started rubbing his body across my leg.

“I know,” I scratched his head. It felt a lot better to talk to my cat than myself. “But I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He started running his feet over the various textbooks that were lying about, sharp but gentle enough not to rip, and kicked a small poetry book to my knee.

I gently picked up the book, and shook my head at Myungsoo, sliding the book to the side. Myungsoo started filing through my other stack, and I didn’t even flinch when he knocked over my books, as he was fully engrossed in his activity. He pushed another poetry book with his nose, nodding it into my hand.

“I guess if I can’t pick a topic, I might as well not waste time and study something else.” I conceded, letting Myungsoo place himself between my crossed legs. “I’ll memorize it better if I read to you.”

Surprisingly, he stayed by my side the entire time, perfectly still. It was as if he was actually paying attention, his eyes darting between the line scheme and the black and white pictures. He slapped a paw on a particular image, a landscape of a valley and a seemingly endless sky. Maybe I could write about infinite possibilities? It was wide, but it was an idea.

“Thank you.” I said, feeling a little bit better. I put my arm around his form, “French literature can be helpful.”

5.

Myungsoo was sweet.

“You know, when dogs want to profess their gratitude to their owner, they bring a dead body to them.”

Sungjong’s tone was dull, like the flat end of the knife prodding into one’s flesh for no reason. I looked down at Myungsoo who was in my arms, his paws rubbing at his ears.

“Come in.” Sungjong sighed, opening his door wider for us.

Lee Sungjong was a friend of a friend. An intuitive, incredibly straightforward guy. He was like the little brother that would quietly tag along because he didn’t want to stay home with his parents. We ended up in a Core class together, one of those easy classes you needed to pass, but they made it unnecessarily hard just to seem important.

“I didn’t know you were into dog culture.” I replied dryly, stepping into his house. His family was out since it was a work day, and our professor cancelled class just for this project.

“I major in animal science.” He replied bluntly, his frosty, imploring eyes settled on my cat, who immediately scampered to the floor and weaved under the couch, his head popping out. “Didn’t know you were a cat person.”

“I honestly didn’t know either.” I shrugged, sticking my legs under the low coffee table. Our books were already out, waiting to be used.

Sungjong turned away, and glued his eyes to his laptop. “Let’s just finish this.”  

I frowned at his frank attitude, but wordlessly went to open up our folders. He was working on getting into the medical school, and finish off as a veterinarian. No matter what kind of doctor you’d be, medical school would take you through hell and back, and he was only experiencing the beginning. His usually healthy glowing hair was oily and clung to his sallow cheeks, and his complexion was paler than usual. Sungjong’s body was naturally slender and willowy, but it looked like his clothes were swallowing his frame until there was nothing left of him.

Looking at him gave me a sour feeling in my mouth, and I got up to make us both some tea. I really didn’t know much around his kitchen, but at the very least I found a steeper and two mugs. The kettle was already hot, and soon a soothing, floral aroma seeped its way through the room.

I delicately placed a cup on the table, which Sungjong didn’t even bother to acknowledge. His laptop was shoved away, and his hands were holding up his head, folded over his face. He didn’t even have our project work open, it was an Organic Chemistry textbook. His head was so low that it was slipping from his hands supporting it.

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself." I urged, nudging the tea closer to him. "You're so smart, and you're a hard worker."

"You don't get it." He muttered bitterly, although it wasn't directed to me, I felt the sting all the same.

"I know I never will. But I know the feeling of being exhausted. Everyone wants a piece of you until you're raw, and there's nothing left for you to show."

He looked up at me, slowly, but purely. His eyes were shiny like glass, his nose tinged red. "I'm sorry. It's just," he shook his head, looking back down. "Just give me a minute."

Permitting his space, I tried my best to act normal and work on the project. Although it was kind of hard, with Sungjong within centimeters of me, too stricken with stress to even move. After a couple minutes, Myungsoo popped his head out of the couch, taking in his surroundings. His wide, imploring eyes took Sungjong’s form, who was slumped over the table. He carefully made his way towards the young man, turning his furry hair to the inside of Sungjong’s knee.

Myungsoo carefully crawled onto Sungjong’s thigh, before making his way to his lap and stretching across his chest, tapping on it back and forth with his paws. Sungjong exhaled, frowning at the attention, but nevertheless picked Myungsoo up from his struggle. The cat immediately mewled in bliss, nudging his face under Sungjong’s chin, comfortable between his coral knit sweater.

“Attention seeker.” I said to Myungsoo, who continued to snuggle up to his new friend.

But instead of putting him down like I expected, Sungjong cradled him tighter and pulled him closer to his face. Myungsoo his cheek in reply, his nose nudging across his pale skin. A faint, barely-there smile apparated onto his lips.

Sungjong coddled him like a furry baby, holding him up with both hands. "I almost forgot how much I want to help little guys like you."

6.

Stupid, stupid Lee Howon. It was true, he did take one too many pointers from his friend, which included his second girlfriend.

Stupid, stupid me. It was impossible for anyone to be perfect, for Lee Howon it was his two-faced personality.

I felt so sorry. I felt sorry for Howon, who thought he could get away with it. I felt sorry for Howon’s girlfriend, who was either blissfully ignorant or feeling just as pathetic as I was. Everything had felt so real, and I wasn’t going to deny it, but it still hurt me where it mattered the most. I cocooned myself deeper in my blanket, still dressed in my date night outfit. My nose was runny and my makeup was melting across my cheeks.

Myungsoo padded in my room, curiously at first, to see what the noise was all about. His whiskey colored eyes regarded me cautiously, before scampering to my bedside like lightning, clawing to get a grip on the comforter. He landed on the shiny cover of my closed laptop, and easily slipped on the thing as if it were an ice rink, his chin smacking the top. I shook my head. “Aren’t cats supposed to have nine lives? Clumsy thing.” I picked him up, and invited him into my blanket shell.

He my knuckles, regarding me comfortingly.

“Howon has another girlfriend.” I confessed, hugging Myungsoo tighter, as if he could expel all the pain I felt and wash it away. “So, I dumped his . Well, I dumped Pasta Da Vinci on his lap, but I made sure he paid the restaurant.” Myungsoo yelped in response, flashing me his fangs in amusement. “But still, it hurts so badly.”

The feline parted away the blankets, just enough for him to jump out and hop the bedside table to reach the hoya plant, which I had placed in my room for—just as Howon said, to remind me of him. He lifted his paw as if it were a blade, and aimed to swipe at it. “Myungsoo.” I warned, despite the fact I really did want to get rid of the sad reminder. “The plant didn’t do anything.”

The hoya bella plant remained by the open window, innocently unaware, it’s beautiful glossy foliage persevering against the night sky. They haven’t bloomed yet, but their white stars twinkled just as bright. He scratched his ear, and nodded his head to the plant, as if making peace, and surrendered, returning just as quickly to my lump on the bed.

The idiomatic French expression, “appeler un chat un chat” literally translates to “calling a cat a cat.” Figuratively, it’s the ability to speak honestly to one another, shameless enough so that bygones be bygones. That’s how I felt with my literal cat. I could feel my inner cat-lady bubbling up inside me, as I went over to tap his nose.

“Myungsoo.” I couldn’t help but smile softly, picking him up and supporting him with my arms. “I’ll be alright.”

He continued to bombard me with his constant attention, relenting himself to me, trying to act all cute and for lack of a better word, like a kitten.

“So, I want you to be good like you always are. So you can find a pretty kitty out there to love, because you don’t deserve what I’m going through right now.” I stuck out my tongue, making a funny face.

Myungsoo shifted awkwardly against my arms, before reaching over the rub his nose against my cheek.

“Not me, it can’t be me.” I shook my head dramatically, making an ‘x’ sign with my fingers. “You’ll find yourself a cat, and I’ll find myself a human.” He rubbed his fur over his eyes, before plopping on my lap. “Don’t stress. Your time will come.”

He rolled his body down the hill of sheets, before contrasting against the moonlight seeping from my window. His eyes gleamed like twilight, as if the moon were the brightest thing he’s ever experienced. I tugged on the blankets, and brought my face to Myungsoo’s, placing a quick kiss to the crown of his head.

“Stop staring at the moon, you’re not a werewolf.” I chided, “Now it’s late. I’m going to sleep.”

Instead of digging a hole in my sheets, he my nose in reply, and padded out of my room.

7.

"It'd be useless to search if it was just a name tag, right? No address, no nothing."

"Yeah." I frowned, following my companion out of the hall.

"Maybe he wasn't meant to be kept as a pet." In an attempt to cheer me up, he started wiggling his fingers and murmuring in a spooky voice. "Maybe it's a bad omen, it was a black cat."

"He wasn't a bad omen."

Sungjong grabbed my shoulders, effectively stopping me from ramming my head into a corner of the building. "Hey," he said softly, looking at me straight in the eye. "It's a pity he ran away, I'm going to miss the little guy too, but it isn't practical to go around like this. You know those cheesy sayings, about it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?"

I shrugged half-heartedly. "I guess, but I can't imagine why he'd run. I'm just trying to hope he's okay."

"I'm sure he's fine." He smiled softly. "Now, didn't you say you had office hours with your professor? I'll see you later." And he pushed me off to the general direction of the staff room, sending me off. I hated to admit he was right. I was only immersing myself in piles of schoolwork to get around mourning my stray cat, which wasn’t even mine in the first place.

The staff room was virtually empty, save for the one guy sitting on the professor's swivel chair. He even had his legs dangling over the desk. I deftly slammed the door shut, causing him to splutter and the chair to roll away like a fish out of water.

"You scared me!" He frowned, realizing it wasn't our teacher. He ripped the hood off his black sweater, pulling a phone out of his similarly hued sweatpants. "He said he was coming an hour ago." He suddenly whined, stuffing the phone back in his pocket. "What a slow poke."

I walked over, placing all my books on his desk. "My appointment is now." I sighed. "Are you Monday-Tuesday?"

He nodded, finding it safe to slip back in the leather seat. "You're Wednesday-Friday?"

"Unfortunately." I smiled bitterly, pulling up a smaller chair for myself. “It’s just been a stressful week.”

“Why, did you not do well on the midterm?”

“Just in general.” I replied vaguely. The boy leaned in, resting his arms on the desk, his elbows propped up and his head carried by his left hand. His sweater was so large and frumpy that it tumbled down his wrist, revealing a minimalistic leather bracelet with a silver token. “Geez, he has like, thirty more years until he’s an actual senior citizen. What’s taking him so long?” If I was already having a gloomy enough week, I at least wanted to attempt at preserving my grade.

The boy chuckled, surprisingly light and airy, like windchimes. He shook my arm so I’d pull my head up, his grasp gentle and brief. “Hey, let’s just go. We can study off each other instead of worrying listlessly.”

“But what if he comes back?”

“Honestly, he’d probably be happy he has two less students to talk to.” He suddenly jolted, and started stuffing his books away in his messenger bag. “We can go to my workplace, it’ll be quiet there.”

“But—”

He wagged a finger, “No buts. I work at a noodle house, are you going to turn down complimentary noodles and a good grade?”

“I guess not.” I conceded, putting my books away as well. I felt myself smiling at his infectious attitude, and he gave me a simple, yet warming smile. His dimples were so deep you could fill a lake with them, youthful and charming.

“There’s enough time until my next shift, but we should hurry anyway.” His hand suddenly stuck out and grasped my hand, his whole fist enclosing my two fingers. I felt the icy touch of his pendant kiss my wrist. He suddenly let go, as if I were a hot stove, but he was the one burning up. “Sorry!” he made enough space for two people to walk in between us. “It was just impulse, I do that when I’m with a close friend. Guy friends, not girl friends, but either way I don’t really hold hands like that. Not that I do that a lot, hold hands with girls. not that we’re even friends. Although I wouldn’t mind being friends.”

“Whoa.” I giggled, finding his rambling incredibly adorkable. Hoping to calm him down, I brushed our hands together, before nudging his body towards the door. “It’s fine. Now lead the way.” He was really funny how embarrassed he was, near-silenced to humiliation even though we were the only two in the room. “And we can be friends.” I offered lightly.

Before walking out the office, he turned his head to me, as if he were so enthralled by the thought of us being friends. His eyes were half-glazed, half-attentive. Brown and warm and chocolatey, definitively lost, like he was trying to read into the depths of my ideology.

“Stop staring.” I muttered defensively, “You look like a cat that’s going to eat me up.”

And he cocked his head to the side as if he really were a cat contemplating its prey, and finally grinned. “I get that a lot.”