somehow, every month, you manage to annoy arlecchino. at least, that's what you think, because every month the cat hybrid simply walks out the door and vanishes for about two days before coming right back home as if nothing happened.
you've tried, really, to watch yourself. not necessarily walking on eggshells around her, but just being more mindful of your words or actions when it comes to her. you make sure (when your budget allows) to get a nice cut of steak (raw) for her to enjoy once in a while. but still-- still, without fail, for two days in a month she will slip out of the front door into the dark, going god knows where until she decides it's time to come home again.
you try not to let it get to you. she's a cat hybrid, after all; their temperaments are not as consistent as dog hybrids, and with arlecchino's particular background, you know she's far from a normal cat hybrid either.
but there's only so much you can take before it starts really gnawing at you. your brain is supplying many, many unhelpful conclusions about her behaviour and it's gotten to a point where you've decided it's best to just ask her, even if the thought makes your stomach do backflips.
so you corner her one night, after she returns from her little foray around the neighbourhood. arlecchino, still in her cat form, squeezes back into the house through a window you've left open for her, landing on the floorboards with a soft thump you only hear because she lets you. her coat is spotless, glossy and shiny as ever, tickling your skin as she presses up and against your leg from where you stand by the kitchen counter. the brush of fur turns to that of skin in a matter of seconds, the sound of fabric rustling behind you, until you feel a solid, warm weight press against your back, arlecchino's breath spilling over your shoulder.
"welcome home," she purrs, the vibration of it making the tight knot in your stomach loosen somewhat. your hand rises up to scratch the underside of her chin; muscle memory, and the cat hybrid melts further against you. you don't need to see to know her tail is twitching contentedly behind her. strong arms wrap around your waist, fingers idly brushing your hip, and you forcibly reel yourself back to reality.
focus. there's answers you're looking for.
"arle?" you ask, voice soft, worried you might spook her. "will you be honest with me?"
"yes," she murmurs. "why?"
you draw in a slow breath, steeling your nerves.
"every month, you disappear for two days. you never tell me where you go, or when you're going. and i know you're entitled to your privacy, of course, but i just--" you bite your lip, somewhat loathing how needy and insecure you sound, "--i've just been overthinking it too much recently. is it me...? did i do something?"
arlecchino is silent behind you. you want to turn around and look at her, but you're also terrified to see what kind of expression is on her face. your mind races, filling with worst-case scenarios-- it's something dangerous, a vice, someone else--
but then she's laughing softly against the nape of your neck, arms squeezing around your waist a little tighter.
"you really don't know?" she asks, lips ghosting the sensitive skin there in a gentle kiss.
"no?" you answer, resisting the urge to squirm. part of you is relieved it appears to be nothing serious, but the other part is still very confused as to what she's getting at. "you'll have to spell it out for me."
with tender hands, arlecchino spins you around, and you feel your heart flutter ever so slightly at the achingly fond look on her face. her ear flicks--she probably heard the little jump of your heartbeat--and she cups your face in her palm, thumb brushing over the arch of your cheekbone.
"once a month," she begins slowly, "your scent changes."
the cat hybrid nods. "yes. it gets... sweeter." arlecchino sighs, her eyes sliding shut, as if imagining it. her tail swishes behind her, then curls around your leg. "inviting."
your hands grip the countertop for a little more support. "i-inviting?"
arlecchino sighs, clearly realising that she really will have to spell it out for you.
"my dear, you go into heat. and i fear that if i do not leave, i would not be able to resist mounting you."
you're certain your face has turned as red as the Xs of her eyes. you splutter out an incoherent string of noises that can hardly be called a sentence, before hiding your face in your hands, embarrassment crawling up your spine. how did it not click before? part of you prays the floorboards open up and swallow you whole, but not before arlecchino is hauling you onto the counter, a chuckle rumbling in her throat.
"so shy, all of a sudden?" she teases. "you did ask."
"i know," you whine, smacking her shoulder lightly, "doesn't mean that the answer is easy to hear. so you can, what-- smell when i'm ovulating?"
arlecchino nods, catching your offending hand by the wrist and bringing it to her lips to press a kiss into the heel of your palm. "essentially."
"and you... you would want to, um. mate. with me?"
the cat hybrid gives you a look as if you'd asked her if she likes raw steak.
you feel your face heat up again. "okay, that was a stupid question."
"indeed," she agrees dryly, an ear flicking in amusement.
"well-- why didn't you ever say anything? we... you know, pretty often."
arlecchino tilts her head. "the odds of me actually succeeding in breeding you are not as significant then." she allows you to choke on those words for a moment before continuing. "in addition, i did not know how you felt about kits, and i do not wish to force any sort of desire onto you."
how do you feel about kits? in truth, the thought never crossed your mind. it wasn't ever something you always knew you wanted, a goal in your life bucket list you want to cross out. but at the same time, you didn't feel any vehement opposition to the idea. and you do enjoy watching over the older kittens arlecchino has, well, collected over the years of living with you when she drags them to your doorstep for a meal and a warm place to sleep.
"well," you mumble, looping your arms around her shoulders to pull her close, "i wouldn't say the desire would be forced."
arlecchino blinks. "pardon?"
"i should be... in heat in a week," you say against her neck. "and i think you should stay this time."
her hands find your waist, squeezing tight. "my dear, i--"
"if anything happens, it'd be nothing that i don't want."
arlecchino stills, and then you feel the rumble of her purr against her throat.
a week's time has never felt so long.
