The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzzed as the light interrupted the uneven formation. The few customers looped between narrow aisles of food racks, a tired cashier reading a magazine from the counter behind the register.

Andrew looked like a watchdog dragging behind his master's back. Pushing the shopping trolley you sat in, he occasionally raked the groceries into the trolley, creating a mountain of stuff. Sir on your lap meowed loudly, attracting the attention of a random passerby, and King sitting in Andrew's hood echoed the sound, peering out of his cocoon.

"What's all the fuss? Quiet guys, behave yourselves," Andrew stopped, throwing cat food in addition to the rest of the junk.

The season had just ended. Spring was blooming outside and even in the night you could catch the scent of flowers and carelessness brought by the breeze of warmth and serenity. Andrew stopped the trolley outside, putting cigarette out from behind his ear and lighting it; wrinkling his nose when the King started breathing in his ear, sniffing.

Andrew rested his chin on the top of your head, listening to how he felt. There was no perpetual noise filling his ears, no painful emptiness sucking in all his senses like a Black Hole. There wasn't. Just peace.

Exhaling smoke through his nose, he followed your gesture with his gaze as you cooed. The white cat sat on the curb, back arched and fur puffed out, staring at the already excited King and Sir.

"No," Andrew cut you off immediately, not even letting you get a word in because he knew that look. Fucking hell. "We're not taking another cat."

Andrew caught King by the scruff of his neck, who was about to jump out of the hood, nonchalantly holding him at arm's length. The cat was rampaging and meowing, trying to break free and unleash its fangs, but Andrew was more focused on the cigarette clamped between his teeth and your pleading gaze. Go to hell.

"That's the last one," he arched an eyebrow, looking at you warningly. Did he believe his own words? Hell no.