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Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, let me go through this again. Just to be sure I understand,” he said, looking up at Roman.
Roman sighed. “If you must.” He shifted to dangle his legs over the edge of his fridge, propping his chin on his hands. “I am, after all, a captive audience.”
Logan let out a small snicker at this observation. “True. So. You agreed to babysit Virgil’s cat over the weekend while he was gone.”
Roman nodded. “Like any good friend would!”
“Certainly,” Logan agreed. He went on, “You proceeded to give the cat free range of your entire house.”
“I—listen, she just made the saddest little face when I tried to shut her in the guest room. It felt cruel. You should have heard her meowing! Enough to bring the strongest-willed man to his knees!”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure. And when you discovered that, because she is a cat, she likes to climb things, your reaction was to what?”
Roman opened and shut his mouth several times and looked away. “…To tell her no.”
“And you expected a cat to obey you?” Logan put his hands on his hips.
“She clearly knew what it meant!” Roman said defensively, crossing his arms.
“And when you discovered that she had not, in fact, obeyed your command to stay off every high surface in the house, and had climbed onto the top shelf in your kitchen, how did you proceed to try and get her down?”
“Listen, the box was already right next to the fridge, I hadn’t unpacked it yet, I didn’t think about it, I just went ‘oh I can use that as a stepstool’ and did! I was more focused on the cat not getting hurt!”
“And your foot going through the cardboard as you used a delivery box to boost yourself onto the fridge raised no red flags for you?”
“I—you—I wasn’t thinking about that!”
“Clearly,” Logan said.
“Shut up,” Roman whined, grinning. “It’s not my fault Virgil’s cat is so damn curious about everything in my entire house. Are you going to help me get down, now?”
“Of course.” Logan surveyed the scene; the cat in question, a small creature with smooth dark gray fur, was winding back and forth about the legs of the table and chairs on the opposite side of the room, having safely made it to the ground after Roman lifted her down to the counter. Roman was perched on the fridge, with no surfaces close enough to climb down onto; a battered and crushed cardboard box with a rough hole on it had been kicked a little ways away from the fridge. “Let me take a picture first, though.”
“You are the worst,” Roman groused, but he was doing nothing to hide his grin. “Uh—if you send it to Virgil, make sure you say super clearly that Mrs Death Tarantula is totally safe, though.”
Logan blinked several times. “…Of course,” he agreed, choosing not to comment on the name as he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the scene. Roman posed dramatically from atop the fridge, prompting a few more photos as he tried out different poses. Several of these would definitely be making it into the groupchat of their friend group later.
At last Logan tucked his phone away and dragged one of the chairs over, propping it against the fridge. “Are you at all hurt?” he asked as Roman gratefully climbed down onto it.
“I think I skinned my ankle just the tiniest bit on that box,” Roman said, bending to check. “Ah. Yeah. It’s not bad, though. And I’m fine otherwise!” He caught Logan unawares and dragged him into a hug. “Thank you for coming by to rescue me,” he laughed. “Nobody else was picking up their phones, I was starting to get a little worried.”
“Of course. I am glad you and the cat are both safe and relatively unharmed.” Logan looked in the cupboard unter Roman’s sink, pulling out the mini first aid kit he knew was kept there. “You should clean your ankle off to prevent infection. Would you like help?”
“Oh! Sure. Thank you.” Roman obediently collapsed into a chair and allowed Logan to dab at the scrape on his ankle with an alcohol wipe and cover it in a bandaid. The cat came over to examine these proceedings, eventually jumping into Roman’s lap and purring happily when he began to pet her.
“She’s such a curious little critter,” Roman cooed, scritching under her chin. “Yes, you are. Aren’t you? You are!” He looked up at Logan. “Do you want to hang out for a bit, now that you’re here? She’s the cutest thing, wait until you see the little maze toy thing Virgil gave me for her, she loves it!”
Logan bit back a smile. “I’d love to,” he said, and followed Roman as he scooped up the cat and led the way into the living room.