catgirl hours

The sun dips down between the skyscrapers as two lone figures stand behind a guard rail some distance away from the bustling sounds of the city. One is a redhead with pale skin, a scarf tide around their neck and tucked into a light brown wool trench coat. The other is a man, even paler, with short, black hair, a black leather jacket, and fingerless gloves. No words are spoken between the two of them. The only sounds between them come from the man with black hair and it’s merely inhalations and exhalations followed by smoke drifting from his mouth.

The redhead leans against the guard rail with their forearms, their hands clasped in front of them, despite the chill of the metal seeping through their jacket sleeves. The black-haired man shifts next to them, peering down at the other’s change in position before bringing his eyes back to the sunset. The redhead takes a breath and looks up at their companion, waiting for him to notice them staring. The other glances at them with a brow raised before rolling his eyes and passing the cigarette he was smoking over to their slim fingers. A coy smile and flutter of eyelashes is given as a silent ‘thank you’ causing the black-haired man to scoff in response. The redhead takes a drag from the cigarette before bringing their hand back where it was leaning on the railing. The smoke trails lazily from between their limp fingers and they exhale slowly, watching the smoke obscure the sun in a haze.

“If you drop my cigarette, Benbozo, we’re going to have some problems,” the black-haired man warns slowly. The redhead chuckles lightly.

“Is that a promise, Bad?” the redhead retorts. The threat and response hang in the air like the smoke they were breathing. Benbozo straightens their posture before swiftly sticking the cigarette between Bad’s lips. Bad simply laughs out of the corner of his mouth before readjusting the cigarette so it’s securely between his teeth. Benbozo leans closer to Bad so that their shoulders were touching and a meager amount of warmth could be shared. Any closer feels like something forbidden. Yet despite that, Bad wraps an arm around Benbozo’s waist, his hand gripping their hip to pull them closer. Benbozo turns their head to try and read Bad’s facial expression but it doesn’t reveal anything. They continue to stare before turning their gaze back to the horizon.

“Prime says you’re a version of him that made bad choices instead of good ones,” Benbozo starts. Bad grunts, clearly not thrilled at both the mention and comparison to Prime. He remains silent though so Benbozo takes that as a sign to continue speaking. “So does that make me another one of your bad choices?” they ask, facing Bad again. At this question, Bad does turn his head, his brow raised. They maintain eye contact for a few seconds before Bad looks away first. He takes a drag from his cigarette to buy himself time, which Benbozo grants him. They’re not really expecting an answer, it’s just something they’re curious about.

“In my mind, my choices are just choices. They aren’t good or bad,” Bad explains. “But you’re probably a bad choice because you’re too good for me.” Benbozo laughs behind their hand and ignores Bad’s affronted noise.

“Prime would think I’m the one making a bad choice if I told him we’re spending time together,” Benbozo chirps. “But as you said, right now it’s just a choice. We’ll find out later if it’s good or bad,” they conclude. They rest their head against Bad’s and sigh feeling Bad tighten his grip on their waist. “Maybe I can be your first good choice? Isn’t that a thought?” they ask dreamily. Bad barks out a harsh laugh, which causes Benbozo to giggle behind their hand again.

“You’re so gross,” Bad comments.