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“No,” Blue says.
Kenzo and the cat - because, for some ungodly reason, he’s decided to bring a stray cat to their apartment - immediately adopt the same wounded, wobbly-eyed pout. “Please?” Kenzo asks. “Look at him. How can you say no to this face?”
“Very easily,” Blue says, even though the cat is, admittedly, very cute. It’s a black fuzzball of a thing, with pointy ears that twitch in every direction and a small pink nose. “We don’t have time to take care of a cat.”
“I’ll do everything,” Kenzo tells her. “You won’t even know he’s here.”
Blue stares at her boyfriend of two years, who’s wearing the puppy-dog expression that he knows she’s weak to. Then she looks at the cat, who chooses that moment to yawn, revealing tiny white fangs and making an adorable squeaking sound in the process. She feels herself slipping.
“Fine.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “But if he starts becoming a hassle, we’re putting him up for adoption.”
Kenzo lights up, ducking forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Yes! You won’t regret this, Blue, promise.”
“Yeah, whatever.” A begrudging smile flits over Blue’s face. Maybe it’s worth it to keep the cat around, if it makes Kenzo happy.
The cat - which Kenzo refers to as Cags and which Blue resolutely refuses to talk about at all - makes a quick home in their apartment. He has a litterbox by the caladium plant in their living room and a box of toys next to the TV. Kenzo had begged Blue to let him sleep in their bed until she broke down, and now he curls into a little black donut at their feet every night.
Cags takes a special liking to Blue, which is odd because she does nothing to encourage it. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t try to hop into her lap in the middle of an important project or wind his furry body around her legs when she tries to walk. Blue has learned to be careful where she steps.
“He’s growing on you, isn’t he?” Kenzo often asks her.
“Not at all,” Blue always says. “Not even a little bit.”
She manages to keep up her pretense of apathy until one day when Kenzo comes home from work early to surprise her. He finds her eating dinner with Cags perched attentively at her feet. Every so often she’ll bend down and hold out a bit of salmon for him, letting him lick it off her fingers.
Kenzo grins and leans against the kitchen counter, waiting for Blue to notice him. When she finally does, she flushes guiltily and refuses to meet his eyes.
“Not growing on you, huh?” Kenzo asks.
“Shut up,” Blue says. “I’m kicking you out. Cags is the only man I need in my life.”
Kenzo just laughs.
It’s a rare day when Blue has no important work to get done, and she’s looking forward to a lazy morning in. Waking up late, padding into the kitchen to find Kenzo already waiting for her with a cup of coffee, and then settling onto the couch to binge a few episodes - or seasons - of Cutthroat Kitchen.
Of course, her plans are ruined by Cags. He wakes her up by stepping on her face and barely gives her two seconds to get her bearings before he’s headbutting her chest, demanding to be pet. Blue blinks blearily at him. “I hate you,” she says.
Cags meows at her, tail swishing contentedly from side to side. Blue sighs and reaches out to scratch at the scruff under his chin.
She hears a throaty chuckle beside her and shoots a venomous glare at the offending party. “This is all your fault, you know.”
Kenzo yawns and wraps an arm around her. “I know,” he says, not sounding particularly apologetic.
Blue huffs. “You’re making me coffee as an apology. And pancakes.”
“Sure,” Kenzo agrees. “Want me to go now?”
“Hmm.” Blue curls further into Kenzo’s chest, tucking Cags into the small space in between them. She rests her head in the crook of his arm. “Later. Sleep now.”
“Whatever you want.”
Blue closes her eyes, and she feels a warm pair of lips press against her forehead, just briefly, before she drifts off again.