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“I think it’s planning to kill me.”
“It’s a cat, Felix, it’s not planning anything.” Ingrid looks up from the motorcycle she’s working on and waggles a pair of pliers at him. “The heat’s just gotten to your head.”
She’s not wrong that this summer is the hottest Faerghus has had in the last decade and a half, but there’s more to it than that. Felix gets up and stretches, deciding to take a walk around the shop before his break ends. There’s not much room for him to pace about without getting in the way of Ingrid or Dimitri though, so he heads out to the front where Sylvain is (as usual) lounging about.
“Come to see your buddy again?” Sylvain snickers and points to the building across the street.
Blaiddyd Motor Works isn’t exactly off the beaten path, but it’s in a quieter area near the historical district; you can tell you’re getting close when the paved roads turn to cobble and brick buildings start popping up. The one Sylvain is gesturing to is a narrow two-story establishment, practically squeezed between its neighbors, but the brick facade is charming, with tidy white-trim windows on either side of a turquoise door. Its sign reads “Gaspard Books,” though one peek through the windows is enough to inform you of the store’s contents.
However, just beyond those windows is the creature that’s been causing Felix so much grief this past week: a silvery-gray cat, sitting on the windowsill, staring straight at him. It’s there when he comes in every morning. It’s there when he looks out during a break or lunch. It’s there when he heads home for the day. It’s not there the entire day, or so Sylvain claims – and as loath as Felix is to believe it, he’s starting to wonder if the creature can sense his presence.
Which is ridiculous, so Felix scoffs instead of responding to Sylvain’s taunt and returns to the back room.
***
The week turns over, then over again, but the darn cat still lingers in the corner of Felix’s eye whenever he goes in or out of the shop. Even the time he was late, or the time he took a half day, did nothing to halt the feline’s lookout.
While everyone’s enjoying lunch in the comfort of their air-conditioned break room, Felix comes to a decision. “I think there’s only one thing I can do at this point.”
“Return to normal?”
“Accept your death?”
“Make friends?”
“I’m going to give it a piece of my mind.”
Dimitri is the only one who wishes him good luck.
***
Today, Felix gets off work at 4:30 PM. It’s an oppressive 81 degrees out and part of him wants to head straight home, but alas, some things must be done. Nobody’s coming, so instead of walking a building down to the street corner, he jogs directly across the road to the bookstore. Lying in wait there is The Cat, which Felix has never gotten a good look at before. From a distance he’d thought it was heavyset, but up close it seems to just be a very fluffy cat. Its eyes are blue, and they stare at him unblinking.
Felix crouches down to be more on level with the cat. “It’s very rude to stare, you know.” No response. “Did you feel like I threatened your territory or something? Don’t worry, I’m not interested.” Still no response. “Look, if you could just leave me to do my job in peace, that would be great. Knock it off already.” The cat flicks an ear but doesn’t respond further, and Felix sighs. What was he hoping for, that it would meow in apology?
He moves to get up, but the cat on the other side of the window slowly lifts itself up onto its hind legs and waves a paw. Or, rather – Felix tilts his head up to meet the gaze of the smiling young man who’s just lifted up the cat to wave its paw at him.
Perhaps crouching in front of the store and talking to its cat was not as subtle an action as he’d hoped it to be.
Pale green eyes crinkle as the man beyond the glass smiles and points to Felix’s left, towards the entryway. Somewhat sheepishly, Felix stands up, heading over to the recessed turquoise door, mulling over how best to apologize for his strange behavior. A small bell chimes as he opens the door, and upon entry he’s immediately hit with the earthy smell of ink on paper. The walls are crammed full of bookshelves, and the shelves are packed with books; the store is somewhat narrow, so all available space is utilized, even the gap underneath the staircase near the back wall.
“First time here?” The young man – who appears to be the only person in the store, and is therefore presumably the bookseller – scratches behind the ears of the cat he’s holding before putting it down.
“Y-yeah.” Said cat makes a beeline for Felix with its tail sticking up, curved at the end like a question mark, and starts rubbing the top of its head against his lower legs as it circles around him.
“It seems Marth has taken a liking to you; normally he’s shy around strangers but besides that he’s very sweet, you can pet him if you’d like.” There’s a knowing grin on the bookseller’s face and his tone suggests he’s teasing, but Felix scoots out of the entryway and squats down nonetheless. He’s dealt with Annette’s cats often enough to know to hold out a hand and let Marth take a sniff before petting, giving it some ear scratches as he saw the other man do earlier.
Marth purrs contentedly, gently swishing his tail. But it doesn’t take long for Felix to realize he’s basically just come inside the store and started petting its cat, so he clears his throat and looks up. “My name’s Felix.”
“Oh – mine’s Ashe! Welcome to Gaspard Books, where book lovers and cat lovers are both welcome. Let me know if you have any questions.”
Introductions settled, Ashe moves to behind the checkout counter and lifts up a half-sorted box of thin magazines, leaving Felix to his own devices. He eventually stands up, causing Marth to meow softly in protest before plodding back to his sunny perch on the windowsill. Now that he’s here, Felix supposes he could browse the books, but he’s never been much of a reader, so no genres beckon him to their shelves. In that case, he might as well get advice from the only other person here.
As he approaches the counter, Ashe glances up from his stacks and smiles amicably. Now that Felix is a bit closer, he can spot freckles dusted across the bridge of the bookkeeper’s nose, and notices that the green of his irises darken near the pupil.
Right. Conversation. He should engage in it instead of just staring. “Uh… Got any recommendations?”
“Hmm… Are you not sure where to start? We have a lot of options: the classics corner is upstairs, there’s sci-fi and fantasy over by where Marth’s lounging, and the center display here features local indie comics.”
“Any nonfiction?”
“Definitely, though our collection’s a bit small. It’s in the back beneath the stairs – cookbooks, memoirs, how-to’s, and a couple literary works as well. If you enjoy history, I’m a big fan of Sword of Kyphon; it’s written like a novel, but it sourced a large number of journals and autobiographies in order to depict events from the War of the Eagle and Lion as accurately as possible.” Ashe’s eyes light up as he outlines the book. “I always make sure we have a few copies on hand – of that and Loog and the Maiden of Wind, although that one’s strictly fantasy.”
“Sounds interesting. You said it’s near the staircase?”
“I know where it’s at – here, let me show you.” Ashe slips out from behind the counter and guides him to the shelves underneath the stairs, swiftly plucking a book from its spot. “Feel free to browse through if you’d like, there’s some chairs upstairs for sitting. Although Caeda might be napping in one right about now…”
As Felix grabs the proffered book, a word on the spine of another still on the wall catches his eye: ‘motorcycle.’ He reaches over to tug it out halfway and examine the front; judging by the title and cover, it’s a photo book of motorcycles throughout the years. Ever the enthusiast, Felix takes it to browse as well.
“Do you enjoy motorcycles?” Ashe glances curiously at the book, a faint glimmer in his eyes.
“You could say that… I work at the repair shop across the street.”
“BMW? I’ve seen you driving to and from work on motorcycles sometimes – er, not you you, just some of you, in general. I just keep an eye out because I’ve always thought they look cool, though I’ve never actually ridden one myself.”
“Would you like to?” Felix asks without thought, but after a moment of Ashe blinking at him, his brain catches up to his mouth and he realizes he’s just asked someone who’s basically a stranger if they’d like to go on a joyride with him. He can feel his ears warming, so before he can trip over his tongue any further, he hands back the books, mumbles out an “I’ve got to get going,” and heads straight for the door, the entryway’s bell ringing softly as he closes the door behind him.
***
“Oh goddess, I can’t believe you really did that.” Sylvain is cackling incessantly after drawing out the story from Felix the next day – the next day, because yesterday evening, Felix had gone straight to his bike and drove home, knowing this would happen as soon as Sylvain cornered him.
“Shut it, you weren’t there. It just sorta… happened.”
“Really? That’s the excuse you’re going for? You ‘just sorta happened’ to pet a guy’s cat, talk to him about books for all of what, five minutes, and then ask him on a date?” Ingrid derides him between bites of her fish sandwich.
“… Well, not in so many words…”
His two friends look at each other and shrug like he’s a lost cause. Which he’s not, because all he has to do is never step foot in that bookstore again and it’s problem solved.
The door to the front of the break room cracks open and Dimitri sticks his head in. “Felix? You may want to come out front, if you have a moment.”
“I’ll take that over staying here.” He scarfs down the rest of his sauteed jerky and follows after Dimitri, quickly seeing the problem.
There across the street, once again, is a certain silvery-gray cat sitting in the window, staring directly at him.
“I think your friend misses you!”
***
The third time Felix hears the doorway chime of Gaspard Books, he is walking confidently – or at least, in a way he hopes appears confident, and not excessively aware of the swinging of his arms and stride of his legs. Marth had still been at the windowsill as he approached the building, but as soon as Felix is inside, the cat is curling between his legs again.
“Welcome to Gaspard Books – oh, Felix! Welcome back.” Ashe smiles, giving him a polite out by not mentioning yesterday, but Felix is resolved to do this even if it means making a fool of himself.
“Would you like to go downtown sometime? I have a motorcycle, and spare protective gear, and you look to be about the same height as me so – if you wanted to, I mean…” He starts off strong but sputters out as the practiced speech dissipates from his memory like the morning mist.
“I get off work in half an hour.” Somehow, Ashe is now beaming as he reaches a hand to his side, pulling out two books – one novel and one photo book. “That sound good?”
This time, Felix stays and reads them.