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Owen had never been good at accepting gifts.
It wasn’t that he was ungrateful—far from it. He simply wasn’t used to people giving him things with no hidden motive behind it. Centuries of survival had taught the vampire that kindness often came with strings attached, and even after falling in love with emir, that old instinct still lingered in the corners of his mind.
So when emir told him to meet him at their estate’s greenhouse late one evening with a suspiciously bright smile on his face, owen immediately narrowed his eyes.
“What did you do?” Owen asked the moment he stepped inside.
The greenhouse glowed under hanging lanterns, warm gold light reflecting off glass walls while rain softly tapped against the outside panes. Vines curled around old iron beams, flowers bloomed despite the season, and in the center stood emir—hands tucked behind his back, trying and failing to hide his excitement.
“I’m offended you assume I’ve done something.”
“You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that means I’m about to either be emotionally devastated or incredibly annoyed.”
Emir grinned. “Hopefully neither.”
Owen huffed, leaning heavily on his cane as he approached. Though he wore confidence like armor, emir always noticed the subtle stiffness in his movements—the lingering pain from losing his leg all those years ago. Emir hated seeing him struggle in silence, especially when owen acted as though he needed no comfort from anyone.
When owen stopped in front of him, emir gently reached forward and covered his eyes.
“Emir.”
“Trust me.”
“I do trust you. I just also think you’re insufferable.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
Owen muttered under his breath but allowed emir to guide him forward carefully through the greenhouse.
“Don’t let me trip.”
“I would never.”
“You laughed when I slipped on ice last winter.”
“It was a little funny.”
“You are truly awful.”
“And you adore me.”
Owen couldn’t argue with that.
After a few more careful steps, emir finally stopped him.
“Okay,” Emir whispered near his ear. “Open your eyes.”
Owen blinked as Emir removed his hands.
At first, he didn’t understand what he was looking at.
A small velvet bed sat beneath a blooming jasmine bush. Tiny toys were scattered around it, and curled up in the center was the smallest cat Owen had ever seen.
The kitten was cream-colored with dark ears, enormous blue eyes, and impossibly short little legs. It looked up at owen, blinked slowly—
—and immediately tumbled out of its bed trying to run toward him.
Owen stared in complete silence as the tiny creature waddled across the floor with all the grace of a falling loaf of bread.
Emir looked nervous now.
“You mentioned once that when you were human, you had a cat you loved more than anything,” Emir said quietly. “You talked about how she used to sleep beside you when nightmares kept you awake.”
Owen remained frozen.
Emir continued softer, “And... lately when I leave for diplomatic trips, I worry about how alone you become here. You act like solitude doesn’t bother you, but I know better.”
The tiny munchkin kitten finally reached Owen’s boot and began aggressively attacking the lace.
Owen stared down at it as his entire expression slowly unraveled.
“She’s yours,” Emir murmured. “Well... if you want her.”
The kitten looked up at Owen and let out the tiniest squeak of a meow.
And Owen—feared vampire lord, survivor of countless wars, terrifying creature of the night—
started crying.
Quietly at first.
Then all at once.
Emir’s eyes widened. “Oh no—I made him cry.”
“You—” Owen laughed weakly through tears as he bent down, carefully scooping the kitten into his arms. “You absolute menace.”
The kitten immediately climbed onto his shoulder and began chewing on his hair.
Owen clutched the tiny creature to his chest like something precious and breakable. His voice cracked.
“No one has ever remembered things I said so casually.”
Emir stepped closer, gently wiping tears from Owen’s face with his thumb.
“I remember everything about you.”
That broke Owen all over again.
He leaned into Emir’s touch while the kitten purred loudly between them.
“What’s her name?” Emir asked.
Owen looked at the tiny cat currently sprawled dramatically in his arms.
The kitten sneezed directly into his face.
Owen laughed—a genuine, bright sound Emir wished he could bottle forever.
“…Mochi.”
“Mochi?” Emir smiled.
“She’s tiny, soft, and shaped like a dessert.”
“That is incredibly unfair.”
“She sneezed on me. We’re even.”
Emir leaned down and kissed Owen softly, smiling against his lips as Mochi climbed onto both of their shoulders like she owned them.
And from that day forward, wherever Owen went, Mochi followed.
She slept curled against the space where his missing leg often ached on cold nights.
She perched on his shoulders during royal meetings.
She terrorized palace staff.
And every night, Owen would glance at Emir sleeping beside him, Mochi curled between them, and think the same thing:
After all the pain he endured…
life had somehow still found ways to be gentle with him.