soft things he doesn’t warn you about
it’s the first time you’re at his place.
you try not to show how aware you are of that fact. how your hands feel slightly too warm, how you smooth your clothes twice before he opens the door and how your heart is beating just a little faster than usual.
you’re still new to this. to him. to being his.
the door opens before you knock a second time.
he looks the same as always- broad shoulders, steady gaze, presence that fills the doorway like he owns the world behind it. but his eyes linger on you a second longer than necessary.
“you’re late,” he says calmly.
you blink. “i’m two minutes early.”
but he steps aside to let you in.
his place is surprisingly quiet. not cold. not empty. just minimal. clean lines with low lighting and the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. it feels like him. controlled and deliberate.
you step inside carefully, as if the floor might react to you.
one of his hands settles at the small of your back, guiding you forward without asking. his touch is warm. firm. not hesitant in the slightest.
“relax,” he murmurs near your ear, voice low. “you look like you’re entering enemy territory.”
“maybe i am,” you whisper before you can stop yourself.
his mouth curves slightly.
a tiny sound interrupts the moment.
a small, high-pitched chirp.
he exhales through his nose, almost annoyed.
from behind the couch, something small and white stumbles into view.
not just any kitten- a ridiculously tiny, snow-white creature with oversized ears and paws slightly too big for its body. its fur is soft and slightly fluffy, not yet fully grown in. its tail sticks up like a little flag as it waddles toward you with determined clumsiness.
“you,” you say slowly, “have a kitten.”
“she lives here,” he corrects.
the kitten reaches your shoe and immediately attacks the lace like it has discovered its greatest enemy. it bites. paws. kicks with both back legs in dramatic, exaggerated movements.
your heart is gone. completely gone.
you crouch without thinking. the kitten abandons the shoelace and looks up at you with wide, bright eyes. one tiny pink nose. little whiskers twitching.
“hi, baby..” you breathe.
it steps onto your hand the second you offer it, small paws warm and impossibly light. it wobbles as it climbs higher, hooking tiny claws gently into your sleeve for balance.
behind you, he watches silently.
“she’s so small,” you whisper.
“she was smaller,” he replies.
you glance at him. “how long have you had her?”
this man. this terrifying, unmovable presence.
and he’s been quietly taking care of a kitten.
as if sensing your disbelief, he steps closer. you feel him before you see him. his body heat. the weight of his presence behind you.
“she followed me,” he says. “persistent thing.”
the kitten suddenly launches itself upward, climbing your arm with surprising speed until it reaches your shoulder. you gasp softly, steadying it with your hands.
it nuzzles under your chin.
“careful,” he says, but he doesn’t sound worried. just observant.
you stand slowly, kitten now cradled carefully against your chest. it immediately begins pawing at your necklace, tiny claws tapping the chain.
you laugh quietly, shyly.
one of his hands reaches forward- not for you at first, but for the kitten. his fingers are large compared to its tiny body. the kitten turns and grabs one of them instantly, biting down in playful aggression.
it gnaws on him. kicks at his finger. refuses to let go.
“she’s attacking you,” you murmur.
you watch as he slowly lifts his hand, kitten still clinging stubbornly. it dangles for a second before scrambling higher, climbing up his wrist like it’s scaling a mountain.
his other hand automatically steadies it.
the kitten makes a triumphant little sound as it reaches his forearm and settles there, tail flicking.
“you’re good with her,” you say softly.
he looks at you then. really looks.
“im good at controlling fragile things.”
the words should sound dangerous.
instead, they make your stomach flutter.
because he’s not squeezing. not restraining.
the kitten suddenly abandons him again and hops poorly toward you. you catch it just in time, holding it close as it presses into you, purring loudly now.
you smile, cheeks warming.
there’s a subtle shift in the air.
he steps forward until you’re forced to look up at him.
“she does not prefer you,” he says evenly.
you try not to smile. “she literally just left you.”
his hand comes up again- this time not for the kitten.
his fingers tilt your chin upward gently but firmly, making you meet his gaze.
“do not mistake her attachment for competition,” he murmurs.
you’re still shy with him. still getting used to how direct he is. how he doesn’t pull back. how he never hesitates.
the kitten, completely unaware of the small tension, squirms her way between you and stretches up on her hind legs, placing its tiny paws right against his chest.
“…she is tolerable,” he admits.
and without thinking, you step closer.
one of his arms slides around your waist naturally, pulling you against him while the kitten remains nestled between you both. the warmth of his body contrasts with the tiny, vibrating purr against your chest.
you’re aware of everything. his hand at your waist, the kitten’s soft fur under your fingers, the steady rhythm of his breathing.
you look up at him again, still a little shy.
“i didn’t expect this,” you admit.
his thumb traces a slow line against your hip, thoughtful.
“there are many versions,” he says quietly.
the kitten suddenly reaches up and bats at his chin.
you both look down at it.
he exhales, almost amused.
you rest your head lightly against his chest, careful not to squish the kitten between you.
and when the kitten starts purring louder, he doesn’t pretend he doesn’t like the sound.
he simply tightens his arm around you both. protective of the small life in your hands.
and maybe, just slightly,
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