Androphobia

ii. stranger danger

"Ruffles' collar," I mumbled, giving him a little glance. "Our address."

Angrily, Papa sighed before eyeing my expression. A hint of regret pierced through his mask.

He pulled me into his arms and placed his hand on my head. I clutched my mug tighter. My eyes moistened as he held me and I inhaled his welcoming scent. It was a mixture of warm tones of musk and aftershave, a complementary pairing that didn't make much sense. Holding back a sniffle, I wiped my eyes and smiled gratefully against his shoulder. He was my sanctuary and he didn't even know it.

"I'll drive you home from now on, okay?" he told me. "I don't want you coming back alone."

"Honestly it's fine, Papa. I promise to eat better, I will."

"Thea," he exhaled.

"What if I called you before I left?"

He hesitated. I tilted my head to the side.

"...Alright."

Beaming, I pulled away. "Thank you, Papa," I said before taking a small sip of my tea. He shook his head at me, as if knowing my puppy eyes were his weakness, and he placed his hands on his thighs and pushed himself up from the bed. Then a thought struck me. "Does Mama know?"

"Of course she does."

An awful feeling crept up my spine.

"Come down for breakfast in a bit, okay? Mum's made scrambled eggs."

With that, Papa left my bedroom, but not after leaving my door open a crack.

As soon as I heard his footsteps go down the stairs, I set my tea down next to me and looked at the sleeping cat on my bed. She was curled up in a croissant shape, paws stretched out in front of her as she unworriedly dreamt away. I reached over and stroked her head with one knuckle - she responded with a twitch of her ear.

I felt like a mess. I couldn't believe that something so petrifying had almost happened to me last night, and the mere thought of it only sent unsettling shivers down my spine. If it weren't for that stranger, I didn't know where I'd be - perhaps I'd still be lying in that damp alleyway, or maybe I'd even be stuck in a creepy, white van somewhere. And what would have happened to Ruffles?

I didn't even want to think about it.

But his voice... I couldn't get it out of my head. There was something so unique about it, so rough and foreign to my ears. From what I could remember, it reminded me of chocolate being slowly chopped and ground on a wooden board, each syllable pulsating with the knife. I didn't know why I remembered it so vividly; I was only half conscious. But he spoke... so softly.

Embarrassed that I had even been thinking of such a thing, I shook my head and sent my hair falling over my reddening cheeks. Bad, bad Thea. That should have been the last thing on my mind after something so traumatic. What was wrong with me?

"You're crazy," I chastised myself as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

I paused at the sight of my coat hanging at the door. I approached it and fumbled with the material on the peg. Where had my hat gone? That was my favourite hat as well.

But more importantly, I'd left my phone in one of the pockets. I silently prayed that no one had stolen it while I was unconscious. As I reached into the pocket, a grin pulled at my lips upon the cold screen touching my fingertips, but my brows twisted at the crinkling of paper along with it.

I pulled the piece of paper out, along with my phone, and stared at what was written on it.

Your cat fucked up my arm. Be glad you're cute enough for me not to hold a grudge against you for it.