Stray Kids One Shots

Catnapper- Lee Minho

Living in the outer of the city was annoying. You were isolated from most of the civilisation, didn't have good facilities nearby. You need to travel for hours to go wherever you want, including school, the mall, and most importantly, food.

Our nearest grocery store was about three blocks away, in a completely different neighborhood, so shopping for food has always been a chore to me. I force myself to walk there to get some exercise and fresh air, though carrying heavy bags of food while the sun was just over your head was torture.

I had found my own shortcut though, even if it meant I had to walk through random narrow streets of an unknown area. It was a sketchy place, but it wasn't dangerous.

Just like every weekend, I tok the complicated path towards the store, mentally listing out everything I've run out of.

Milk... yeah I need milk

And eggs... bread...

Onions and Leeks...

Maybe tangerines? They're in season...

As I mentally debated on whether tangerines were worth it, a faint meow caught my attention.

I paused for a minute, looking around. I heard it again, this time louder.

It was coming from that alley.

I walked in cautiously, straining my ears. When I heard it again, I follow the sound behind an abandoned bicycle and crouched down.

Behind the wheels was an orange and white cat.

It hissed at me at first, so I backed up a bit, not wanting to threaten it. As it shifted, I saw the hint of a blue-collar, with a silver name tag.

"Your not a stray are you?" I murmured quietly, gathering up the confidence to hold out my hand.

The cat cautiously sniffed it through the gaps of the wheel, then meowed softly. Assuming I've gained its permission, I slowly got up and gently moved the bicycle. The cat trotted out, its ears and tail perked up in high alert.

"It's okay." I crouched down again. "You can trust me."

Before long, the cat let me pet it, relaxing as it sat down, purring as I stroked its back.

I was a huge cat person. Every stray in my neighborhood knew me well, and my backyard was their daily lunch spot. Most cats seemed to trust me quickly, probably because I smell like their kind after filling my house with cat food.

I've been meaning to adopt my own cat. The strays were nice but they were... independent. Those cats wanted to survive and didn't want to be tied down to owners. They would hate being holed up in a house, they'd want to roam free and decide their own lives.

But I wanted a kitty I could smother with kisses every day, a cat that would wait for me to get home, a cat that chooses to spend time with me, not just for survival.

But I was scared. I may have dealt with a lot of cats, but I just had this underlying fear that I wouldn't be able to take care of one. Deep down I knew I could, I've done my research, but this was a huge commitment that I was scared to do alone.

It was no different than adopting a human child, and things like that mean you need to have your life in order, so you can pay attention the new living being in your household.

"We should find your owner," I mumbled to the cat. "What's your name sweetie?"

I gently shifted her around and took her name tag in my hand.