Jerrie Oneshot Book

Grumpy Cat

Summary: The one where Perrie has a cat that hates everybody except for Jade.

"Go away," Perrie says, solemn and still.

The mangy creature before her yowls quietly, regarding her defiantly.

Perrie sighs. "Back," she commands, clapping her hands sharply in an attempt to scare it away.

Completely motionless, it stares back at her with unyielding drops of arctic ice for eyes.

"Please?" Perrie tries, cocking her head uncertainly.

Nothing.

Perrie sighs again, awkwardly pushing fluttering strands of hair out of her face with her forearm. This is what she's come to – standing on a public street full of passersby, both arms laden down with bags of fresh painting supplies, attempting to negotiate with a damn cat.

The stray's fur is pale yellow, matted with unseemly clumps of grey and black that appear to be consequences of its time out on the streets. The animal has clearly seen better days. Its skin is hanging loose on its skeletal frame, ribs visible through the patchy fur. There are visible claw marks from where it must have gotten into fights with other strays, some still gleaming a moist, tender red. Its left ear is missing the entire top half, a jagged edge of nothingness left in its place.

All in all, it's not a pretty sight to behold. The fact that's it's been following Perrie for the last seven blocks really isn't helping to improve the irate blonde's impression nor esteem of it. She hadn't even been able to treat herself to a lovely cup of frozen yoghurt on her way home, thanks to the damn thing trailing her into the shop and getting her immediately booted out by the shift supervisor.

She gives up attempting to will the feline away with the power of stern eye contact and turns towards her building. She pulls open the door, and the cat instantly dashes in, weaving right through her ankles.

"No," she tells it as it patiently waits with her for the elevator.

It ignores her and slips right through the doors as they open with a 'ding'. What a surprise.

Its nose is practically glued to her heel all the way down the short corridor. She stops in front of her door and pauses, her hand on the doorknob.

"Look," Perrie begins, marginally less uncomfortable with directly addressing a cat than she'd been three minutes ago. "Thanks for... whatever all that was. Really. Believe it or not, you're the first person to walk me to my door in months. So, yeah, I guess I... appreciate that."

The cat stares up at her expectantly, neatly seated on its haunches. She suddenly wants to laugh. It looks... almost gentlemanly.

She shakes her head. "But you can't come in, okay? My roommate Leigh-Anne won't approve, but then she'll decide we should keep you, and honestly, you look like you might be carrying at least ninety-eight different strains of bacteria or viruses or something. Also, I don't even know if we're allowed to keep pets in this building. And I'm not going to ask, because our landlord is kind of a dick. So, you see why I can't let you in."

The cat watches her silently, its tail waving back and forth like the flag of some rebellion army.

"Okay," Perrie says, nodding. "Uh. Good talk."

Silence.

She exhales. "Right."

Pulling herself together, she wrenches open the door with one hand, all but jumping into the apartment as she simultaneously attempts to block the cat with one foot. Somehow, she manages to make it in without dropping any of her bags, or falling face first onto the floor of her front hallway, accidentally slamming the door on her own foot or the cat – though she can't really be a hundred percent sure about that last one.