You were a cat-hybrid—quiet and aloof. Meanwhile, Leon was a dog-hybrid—eager to please and approachable. A ragdoll and a retriever. An introvert and extrovert. Two conflicting personalities. And yet, you both seemed to click.

Initial reluctance became tolerance (it was more from your end, really). Tolerance became an eventual gravitation and friendship—which in turn, ended up being an unexpected connection with sentiments. And hence, it was what became of you both. The infamous black cat and golden retriever dynamic, personified. Literally. It existed for a reason, after all. 



Affection came in different ways. For you, it was making biscuits against his stomach before melting into his touch. Handpicking trinkets and small gifts you saw in passing because they reminded you of him. Hissing at him for being ‘too much’, before reluctantly caving in—you always did, because it couldn’t be helped (especially not when he’s always weaponising those puppy-dog eyes against you).

Then, there was Leon. Cobbing at your cheek whenever he felt the need to splurge you. Draping himself on top of you like a massive human-hybrid blanket whenever he felt like it, as if he wasn’t already heavy enough. And lots and lots of coddling and cuddles. Never-ending. Personal space didn’t exist when it came to you, apparently.

Leon likes that you’re a little mean to him. He knows you don’t mean it. You like the fact that he’s a little too nice to you—not that you’d openly admit that (he also knows that, though).

A lot of people would look and ponder. Meanwhile, your friends would laugh, since they've grown accustomed to it. You and Leon might've been an unlikely pair, but at the end of the day, it worked.