Hobs laughter could be heard all around the gallery. Several older ladies standing before a tapestry shot him dirty looks.
"How hard is it for the British Museum to admit they just don't know what something is? Nobody believes them when they write "religious importance" beside something."
"Pride is still a universal sin, Hob," Dream murmured quietly as they walked into an older section. "It pulls the logic from men's minds and sullies reputations with arrogance."
Hob huffed another laugh. "Should write that down, put it on a mug for the Literature department."
Dream smirked and continued walking.
"We save the weirdest stuff. How much of this stuff was just something a kid made while learning his craft, realized he buggered it up, and buried in the forest so his master wouldn't see it."
Hob leaned over a case, smiling. "Or, how much is kept because us humans are just sentimental fools? Like this?"
"We saved something just because a cat stepped on it. Wonderful, isn't it?"
"Hardly," Dream sniffed, lip curled. "He dared to stop his ministrations upon my person before satisfaction."
Hob blinked.
Blinked again.
"He stopped petting you, so you ruined his work."
Dream slow-blinked back at him.
"You are a menace." Hob smiled, pulling one of Dream's hand up to his lips. "Absolute menace."
A/N: dream strikes me as such a touch-starved, praise-desperate being that im sure he turns to his feline form to experience such simple forms of affection.
Just a short drabble that stemmed from this observation.
You weren’t one to collect strays. Feed them? Of course. Tell them how much you loved their tiny little faces? Absolutely. But to gather them up into your arms and delicately carry them into your home? Probably not.
But this was different, you told yourself. You had never seen such a docile cat before. You were gathering your mail when you first spotted him through the glass door. A gasp fled your lips, then a grin spread across your face as you whispered a soft “Hi!”
He stopped then, pausing to sit on his hind legs as he peered at you. His tail flicked behind him in fascination as you left your mailbox, spam and bills entirely forgotten, and pushed the glass door open to step outside cautiously.
“Hi, there!” You gasped, inching closer to avoid spooking him. To your surprise, he took an equally hesitant step towards you. Kneeling down, you placed the back of your hand before him, allowing him to study your scent and lower what limited defenses he seemed to have. When he deemed you no possible threat and lowered his nose from your hand, you placed a slow palm to his back and stroked him gently. “So soft!” You gasped, exaggeratedly. You knew he would be: he was all shining black fur, fine silky hair.
He turned then, making a tight circle to have you pet his other side. “And someone seems to love his pets,” you teased, before obliging him. You watched him as he moved, noting how docile he seemed and well-fed, you realized. “Did you run away from home?” You wondered, before moving your hand gingerly to the top of his head. Your hand came down softly, and his bright eyes closed to thin lines at the touch. “Do you live here?” You asked, with a quick glance back at your apartment building.
But he was far too preoccupied by the warm hand you had placed upon his head. Although, he most likely couldn’t have answered you, anyway. He was a cat.
So you rose then, and you knew you probably shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t seem to help it. You started with another gentle petting, slowly adding your other hand, before tensing your fingers slightly and raising him from the ground.
If he was displeased by the act, he didn’t show it.
Instead, as you cradled him in your arms, he peered up at you for only a moment before laying his head against you.
“Aw,” you sighed, as you looked down to find him with his eyes closed. “Such a sleepy baby,” you cooed, before opening the door, and bringing him inside.
You had gone to the building manager with the soft kitty in your arms, but she explained that no resident had declared a black cat or that one had gone missing. She asked if you planned to keep him, and you frowned before peering down at him once more.
He gazed back at you as if he were trying to decipher the very nature of your soul.
“I don’t know,” you answered, distantly.
The shelter was next. Plenty of orange cats had been reported missing. Two black cats, but one was a tuxedo cat and both were short-hairs.
He wasn’t chipped either, you found out after the volunteer checked him over for any sign of malnutrion or disease. He proposed leaving him at the shelter; perhaps his owner would come looking or someone would like to adopt him. But you made the mistake of glancing down at him once again and frowned.
He was closer to figuring out the exact nature of your being with this next piercing gaze.
“I don’t know,” you murmured, still transfixed by his bright, golden eyes. “Maybe I could take him home, and if his owner comes looking for him, they could contact me.”
The volunteer simply shrugged before accepting your number.
After a short stop at the pet store, you were both home.
You unlocked the door and pushed it open, but before you could gently lower to him the ground, he leapt from your arms and landed gracefully on his paws before inspecting every inch of your home.
“Eager little guy, aren’t you?” You chuckled, before setting out his food and water bowls. You emptied out the bag of toys, but when you turned, he was nowhere to be seen. Your head whipped around to the door, but thankfully, it remained closed. You moved through the apartment then, checking around for him. And of course, you found him atop your bed.
He sat directly in the middle of the bed, lying on his side as his tail flicked out over the spread.
“Well, now, where am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, in exaggerated outrage as you folded your arms.
He rose then, before shifting to the right side of the bed and resuming his previous position.
Your brows rose then in surprise at his response, and you muttered under your breath, “Wow, okay, very smart kitty.”
You stretched over the side he had deemed yours, turning on your side to lay your hand against him. You pet him gently, soothingly, curiously, as you wondered how no one could miss such a sweet, intelligent little kitty.
He seemed to respond to your languid petting and the easy smile on your face as he shifted to his paws and took some careful, but determined, steps closer to you. He settled underneath the arm you had propped your head against, laying his tiny, impossibly soft head against your bicep before gazing up at you.
He was trying to steal your soul. You were certain of it.
You let out a soft laugh, before resuming your pets and sighing softly.
“Aw, I love you, too.”
He wasn’t there when you woke. Perhaps he had gone in search of his breakfast, you realized, but he wasn’t at his food bowls, either.
Despite a thorough search of your apartment, he wasn’t anywhere to be found.
You had gone to your building manager once more, this time in your pajamas, as your haste had you running out the door before you could change. You had called her memory of the cat you came to her with last evening and asked if she had seen it again. No, she had told you, and that if you planned to keep the cat, you would paperwork to file.
You weren’t sure how he had gotten out, but you returned to entrance of your building with a can of wet food and your pockets filled with treats as you tried to entice back to you.
You made the typical kissy noises, the harsh pspsps, but to no avail. You went to call his name, but frowned as you realized you had none for him. So you resorted to the clichéd, “Here, kitty, kitty!”
You searched through the surrounding parking lot and street in your pajamas, calling out for a cat with your hands full of canned wet food like a stereotypical crazy cat lady.
But your efforts proved fruitless and you resigned your efforts with a deep sigh as you returned to your apartment.
The work day had been miserable. You couldn’t possibly continue with your work when you had lost the smartest, softest, sweetest kitty you had ever had the pleasure of holding before. But by the time it was over, and you returned to your building, a spark of hope lit within you that he may be waiting for you.
He wasn’t outside your building as he had been the evening before. You sighed in disappointment, but you continued up to your floor; perhaps he had simply found a very good hiding place in your apartment. Maybe he hadn’t left at all – he was just tucked away somewhere in your home, safe and sound.
The optimistic thought left a smile on your face as you neared your door. You looked down as you fumbled with your keys and as you straightened to place the correct one in the lock, you startled with a gasp.
Your keys fell to the floor with a resounding clink and the stranger who had been the cause of it reached down to retrieve them for you. He straightened up before holding them out for you and you stilled at the sight of his piercing blue eyes.
“Thank you,” you blinked, after a moment. Your hand hovered over his palm, your fingers grazing the soft heel of it as you closed around your keys. His fingers seemed to curl upwards then, instinctively, unthinkingly, as he ached to keep your touch. Your heart fluttered at the strange contact, but you brushed it aside with a strangled, embarrassing noise as you tried to clear your throat. “Are you moving in there?” You asked, with a delayed nod to the apartment next to yours. You had noticed your previous neighbor moving out last month, and weren’t surprised to hear that it had been filled so soon.
He turned to follow your gaze, and as soon as he put the pieces together, he found the word spilling from him before he could think.
“Yes.”
He blinked then, surprised and confused by his own actions.
You smiled politely at his succinct response. Perhaps he liked to keep to himself, you realized. You turned back to your door, inserting the key and unlocking the door before you thought of something.
“I seem to have lost a cat,” you began, meekly. “Black fur. Very friendly and very smart,” you chuckled at the thought of him shifting over on your bed. “Would you let me know if you see him?”
He peered at you for a moment and you frowned. Piercing. Bright. As if he were trying to steal your soul.
“I shall,” he responded, and between his piercing gaze and the elegant grace of his tone and posture, you couldn’t help your light breath of laughter at the sight of the familiar. “Is something the matter?”
“No, nothing,” you stifled your laugh. “You just… remind me of someone,” you explained, distantly.
You took one last parting glance at him. Assessing. Considering. Shaking your head as you thought better of your sanity.
And you frowned at the sight of him. For a moment, it almost seemed that he had smiled at some hidden joke.
