Derek ⚣ ✓

9. Shit, Can Cats Not Have Tuna?

And this was where I unintentionally stayed for hours. I hadn't realized it was getting so late until my phone started buzzing hard in my pocket. I picked up, not bothering to pull my eyes away from the page I was on as I answered "this is Derek."

"Hey Derek, it's John."

That made me drop the comic book entirely, having it close on itself. I let out an aggravated "shit" when I realized I forgot what page I was on.

"Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time? I tried to wait a bit with the time difference, so you'd for sure be off work... are you still working?"

Between my brain and my body, everything was starting to fail. "No that's okay! I'm not- I mean, I'm done with work. I'm actually just checking on Herold now." Why couldn't I sound like a normal human around this man? And also, what time was it?

"That's great! Thanks so much again. I know he can be a handful, so hopefully he's been treating you like he was raised right."

I glanced down at the wounds on my fingers, and the teeth holes in my pants. "One could say that." I replied, unintentionally letting a bit of sass run through that statement. It made John laugh, which in return made me smile. Maybe the battle scars were a bit worth it in the end.

"Please invoice me for any damage he may have caused. I'll try to wrap things up sooner and head back Wednesday night," John insisted.

"It's okay!" I quickly rushed out. The last thing I wanted John to do was have to work more than he already was. "I mean he's been... something, but with a weird twist of events, we're kinda bonding."

And we were. Herold hadn't left my side as I slowly read through John's comic book collection, instead opting in for the tummy rubs and nibbling on my fingers here and there. It didn't hurt nearly as much as when he intentionally bit down, so I allowed it.

"I'm happy to hear it. He can get irritated whenever his feeding schedule goes even slightly off course, so while I know these calls may seem a bit excessive, it's more for your safety than his."

That got a good laugh out of me. If only John had seen the last few hours unfold.

"I completely get it," I assured him. With every word that left John's lips, I could swear he was sounding more and more exhausted. I didn't want to keep him if he was just calling to check in. "I'll be leaving here soon, I just got here." I lied, not willing to admit that I had just spent hours in John's home reading his comics. "With Herolds food, I um... I was having some difficulty finding it. I sorta had to give him tuna from a can."

Whyyyyy couldn't I ever sound normal around this fucking man.

The chuckle John let slip past his lips, gave me hope. He didn't sound as disappointed as I thought he'd be.

"He must've given you hell, I'm so sorry. Tuna is his Kryptonite and should be an ultimate last resort because he has waged wars over another can. Brought kingdoms to their knees, et cetera." John explained. A little too late, I thought as Herold tucked my hand between his paws to hold it at his belly. "That's my fault though, my apologies. I set the new bag of dry food in the garage and forgot to bring it in."

I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that the bag of food even existed, even though I just saw this man haul one through the pet store yesterday.

I did not have the hands to fight this cat on the regular, I thought to myself. Or a first aid kit at home.

"No problem!" I replied. "I'm happy to hear he can have tuna, I really should've checked with you first before just giving it to him."

That sentence made a lot more sense in my head, cause when John followed it up with "what do you mean? Shit, can cats not have tuna?" I realized how incredibly dumb I sounded.