Gemotions

"No way, Sam," Leo had declared the night before, his voice firm. He wasn't budging on his policy of no pets in their shared space. He was a creature of habit, and the thought of disrupting his routine was unbearable. He'd said he hated the idea of "another mouth to feed." Now, a small, shivering cat was cuddled next to him.

Sam had found the kitten abandoned, and Leo, despite his initial protests, had eventually agreed to help care for it. He found himself inexplicably endeared to the fragile creature, a feeling he did not understand. He'd even helped build a makeshift bed out of an old cardboard box.

The apartment felt different, softer somehow. The cat was curled into his side, purring softly.