#mefistrap

The night air was chilly with the last north wind of winter. The cold months had long overstayed their welcome, Munkustrap thought, and he was glad of the warmth radiating up from the sun-baked roof tiles beneath his feet. Soon enough, it would be spring again; the bare branches of the trees were starting to bud as he passed them by on his nightly patrol. Winter was a lonely, desolate season, pristine in its beauty but ruthless in its totality. He much preferred the soft comforts of spring, puckish and spontaneous as they were. Even a brief embarrassment of cool rain was a trifle compared to the deafening stoicism of fresh snow.

Munkustrap continued on his train of thought, barely noticing even the sound of the busy streets, until he rounded a corner and suddenly noticed a rose lying in the path in front of him. He smiled to himself and knelt to pick it up, admiring its fresh scent and deep scarlet color. Then his gaze traveled upward into the shadows, where he saw just what he was expecting: a pair of very particular eyes ringed with the same proud red. 

“All alone tonight, handsome?”

“Feliks.” He stood to greet the black-and-white cat who strode out of the shadows, his smile widening. Hands clasped hands, lips met lips, and suddenly they were the only two things in the world, blanketed under a sky of endless stars. When they pulled away from each other, Munkustrap stayed quiet, admiring Feliks’ face.

“Something on your mind this evening?” he quipped, clearly admiring his time in the spotlight.

“Not more than usual. Why do you ask?”

He nodded his head at the flower Munkustrap was still clutching onto. “It’s only the fourth one I dropped for you tonight.”

Face flushing, he moved to turn around and collect the others, but was stopped by Feliks’ hand on his shoulder. As Munkustrap watched, he reached behind his cape and produced three more roses, offering them forward with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let them go to waste.”

“Thank you.” He collected the makeshift bouquet, the roses’ perfume now hanging in the chill air around them. “They smell beautiful, love.” Suddenly, he remembered what he ought to be doing, but the thought of leaving Feliks behind was unimaginable to him. “Would you like to accompany me on the rest of my walk?”

“That sounds lovely, skarbie.” The wind howled above them, and Munkustrap realized Feliks must surely be colder than him with his sleeker, less dense fur. Evidently Feliks was thinking along the same lines, because next he said, “You must be so cold with this wind. Come, let me take you under my cloak and keep you warm.”