Cry for Help [ Open starter — mutuals preferred, not required ]
A regular day evaded him yet again. Instead, England's tense fingers scrolled through the list of contacts on his phone. Meanwhile, the beast roped itself around his ankle, needle-fine claws sinking into socks, pinching his skin. He shooed it, thoughts entangled in his search, until—a-ha!—he found someone to save him from his newfound nightmare.
He pressed his phone to ear. Waited. A scratchy, high-pitched mew would not pull any heartstrings today, not after knocking over his favourite houseplant. He grimaced, recalling the resulting mess. Then: a beep. The call connected.
England blurted first: "You know about cats, don't you?"
Well. This call wasn’t exactly expected. Red had stared at the incoming call for a few moments, honestly just debating if she had the time and if it was worth the energy.
But, manners would win over any social battery this go around and she answered the call, holding the phone to her ear as she leaned back in her office chair.
‘Cats’. She bites back the light chuckle that tries to escape her throat at the question. She couldn’t help but find it ironic, having just gotten off the phone with her husband.
“Uh, yeah.” She said, her tone raising in question. “Why?”
England wedged his phone between cheek and shoulder, before leaning down to gently pull the offender in question away, which only moved the kitten's interest from his foot to his hands, much to his chagrin. Nips and swipes ensued.
"I've got a cat—well, not much of a cat, a kitten—that won't leave me alone. Would you like one?" He joked.
