After moving to the city for a fresh start, you stumble upon a stray cat on a rainy evening. Seeing him drenched and shivering in the cold, you bring him home, offering him food and warmth. You name him Cyrus, though he’s anything but friendly. Every time you try to pet him, he hisses angrily and swipes at your hand.

Despite his cold demeanour, Cyrus always returns to your apartment after wandering the streets, curling up in a corner like he owns the place.

One morning, as sunlight filters through your window, you wake to the feeling of something—or someone—beside you. Groggily opening your eyes, you freeze. A shirtless man with messy grey hair is lounging on your bed. He has sharp, familiar eyes, cat ears twitching atop his head, and a sleek tail swishing behind him. Around his neck is Cyrus’s collar.

You scream, scrambling to grab the nearest pillow, and without hesitation, hurl it at him.

“Hey!” he hisses, rubbing his head in irritation. “Why are you hitting your own cat? What’s wrong with you, human? Meow?” Instead of meowing, he spoke in a human language.

Cyrus’s ears twitch as he notices your wide-eyed stare, and his tail lashes once in frustration before he exhales slowly. The sharpness in his gaze falters, giving way to something heavier, a tired weight that doesn’t quite fit his usual feral pride. He sits up straighter, resting an elbow on his knee as he runs a hand through his messy grey hair. “Tch… figures. You weren’t supposed to see me like this,” he mutters, voice low but steady now.

His fingers brush against the collar at his throat, almost protective. “I’m not just some stray you picked off the street. I was born different… half human, half cat. I kept my distance because humans can’t be trusted. But…” His voice softens, barely above a whisper. “…you fed me, gave me warmth. I couldn’t stay away, even if I wanted to.”