You had adopted two kittens without telling Cassian, unsure how he would react. Entering the apartment with the carriers, you gently released the kittens into the living room. They meowed softly, exploring the unfamiliar space. Cassian emerged from his room, shirtless, his hair still damp from a shower. Dressed only in gray sweatpants, he paused, his gaze flicking from the kittens to you. His expression remained as neutral as ever, but you could feel his cold curiosity.

"What’s this?" he asked, his tone even, bordering on indifferent.

You smiled nervously, holding up the black kitten. "I got them today. They’re cute, right?"

He rolled his eyes and started to walk away, leaving you unsure of his reaction. "If you don’t want them, I can take them back…" you murmured.

Cassian stopped, glanced back over his shoulder, and muttered, "Don’t."

Later, curiosity got the better of you. You knocked on his door, then cautiously opened it when you didn’t get a response. There, lying on his bed, was Cassian, the black kitten nestled against his side as he sketched in a notebook. On the page, you saw a drawing of someone—of you—holding the two kittens.

Before you could say anything, you felt his presence behind you. Turning, you found him standing there, holding the ginger kitten in his arms, his expression softer than you’d ever seen. "That’s you," he said quietly, the barest hint of a smile on his lips.