lethal | hs

/13/

The cat is the sweetest thing, I'm in absolute awe of it. Once I'm fully on the ground, it rubs itself up against the side of my leg. I go to see if it has a collar, but there isn't one, so I leave out its name before continuing to pet it.

"How did you end up here?" I ask the kitten as if it's going to respond, and all I get in return is another soft purr.

I don't know whether to feel bad for it or not. Never in the time that I've gotten to know Hot Shot could I have imagined him having a pet, let alone a kitten. The animal's absolutely adorable, too, and much sweeter than its owner.

He seems like the type of guy that would have a dog before he got a cat, or maybe I just don't know him well enough.

I don't even hear the door open before I turn around from where I'm sitting to see Hot Shot walking in. The first thing he sees is me petting his cat, and by the look on his face, he's pissed.

"I didn't know you had a cat," I make conversation, looking back at the kitten. If an animal could look guilty, this cat is the definition of what that expression would look like. It's almost like it knows that Hot Shot was going to be mad.

"Surprise?" He scoffs sarcastically, closing the door shut with his foot before he paces down the hallway.

He's holding his hands out awkwardly like he's in pain, and while he walks, the cat starts to chase after him.

Feeling awkward now that I'm sitting on his floor alone, I stand up, going after him, "What's its name? I noticed it doesn't have a collar."

"We can talk later, I'm busy right now," his voice flows with panic. He tries to unlock one of the locked doors with a key, but he looks like it hurts his hands when he does so.

"What's wron-" I cut myself off the moment I look down at his wrists, spotting his knuckles bleeding on both hands. "Are you okay? What'd you do?"

"That guy who came down to the shop earlier- Ross, or whatever. Beat his ass, but I got carried away and skinned them on the bricks," he finally manages to unlock the door.

He backs into it to push it open, and he leaves just enough of a gap to let the kitten walk in with him before he slams it closed in my face, locking me out.

"I'm going to need more context than that," I call from the other side of the door. I managed to catch a glimpse of the inside before he locked me out, and I know it has to be a bathroom.

"No, you don't," he calls back, cutting on the water. "Jus' let me stop the bleeding and I'll take you home."

I continue to hear shuffling and the opening of cabinets, like he's looking for something.

I feel bad, honestly. He looks like he's in a lot of pain, and I would be too.

"Do you need any help?" I offer up, holding myself close to the door.

"No, I don't want it," he grunts, and continues to dig through his cabinets.

"But do you need it?" I check his wording.

I hear the frustrated slam of a cabinet before he lets out a long breath, "Check the drawer in my kitchen closest to the stove. There's supposed to be bandages in there. I need those."