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I miss Namjoon.

What am I even doing anymore? I'm still mad. Why? Hell if I know. I'm still angry and I'm still hurt and even now I don't want to talk about it. But I miss him.

I miss his dimple smiles and his dorky little laugh and his tan skin. I miss our lunches together, and the times when I didn't act like a crazy person trying to avoid all contact with him. But I know that if I don't avoid contact with him, then I'll be near him and either forgive him without talking about it, or get mad at him all over again.

What is wrong with me? All of my thoughts are like this. I'm aware that the only way out of this is talking it all out with him. Deep down I know I'm more hurt than angry. And when I thought hard enough about it I know why I'm so hurt. But those aren't thoughts I can say out loud without becoming completely vulnerable. I don't want to be vulnerable or have feelings. It makes me feel weak and I hate that more than anything.

But I miss him.

Groaning in frustration, I pull the covers over my head and roll around on my bed, kicking my feet a bit to relieve the anxiety that's built up in my chest.

I want to hug him.

I want to tease him.

I want to hear him call me his kitty.

My phone pings and I stick one hand from under the covers to grab it and bring it back under. My heart jumps when I see a text from Namjoon, though I know I'll just reply to it with more cat pictures or memes like I've been doing.

With a few taps I respond with a picture of Steve I've edited on Snapchat. No one ever should have let me on there.

😐

Ok, forget EVERYTHING I just said; it ISN'T IMPORTANT. Namjoon has seven kittens? How? Why? When? Without thinking twice I grab my jacket, keys, and a bag of cat treats and race out the door.

Namjoon's house was closer than I expected, but I guess if I thought about it I should have figured that since he always walks to mine. It's close but still a good ways from the rest of the neighborhood houses, more towards a rural part of town. The GPS leads me down a road lined with more trees than houses and I have to wonder how far the forest in this area stretches. Finally it directs me down into a cul-de-sac when it tells me I've arrived at my destination.

I can't help but blink in surprise at how huge his home is. Why the hell is it so big?

Wait. Is Namjoon rich?

Unbidden, my imagination begins to run wild. What if everything he's ever told me is a lie? What if this whole story is some type of weird ass Twilight shit and Namjoon is a ninety-year-old pervert who came back to high school cause he's got a fetish for teenage girls?

Or what if this is more Vampire Diaries and Namjoon doesn't actually care about me, but is getting close to me so he can get the moonstone? I don't even know what a moonstone is and I'm positive I don't have one, but after Eun-ji forced me to watch a bazillion episodes of that show that's all I took from it. That and Klaus what's-his-face is hot as hell.

No. Don't be stupid, Y/n. That's all fantasy.

Namjoon might be a pervert, but he isn't ninety.

Hopefully.

This all begs the question, though. If werewolves and werecats are real, are vampires real too?

OO! What if-

There's a sudden knock on the driver's window and I jump and scream out of shock, only to be met with the concerned expression of my not-a-boyfriend-cause-we're-on-a-break.

He opens the door and looks me up and down worriedly. "I didn't mean to scare you. You ok?"

"Namjoon." I say quickly, ignoring my still racing heart. "How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen. Why-"

"I want to see your birth certificate and ID card."

He stares, his mouth slightly open. "Ooookay..." The word is drawn out in a tone that suggests he thinks I'm behaving strangely but is going to agree to it anyway. Which I don't blame him for. Even I don't know what's wrong with my head.

Whatever excuse his mind gave him for my odd behavior, Namjoon appears to brush it off as he hastily grabs my hands and leads me into his home. Once in the foyer he lets me go and walks into a living room so I follow him.

He begins to whistle and awkwardly call out for the cats—at least I'm hoping it was for the cats cause who else's name would be Princess Jinglebell.

"What are you doing?" I eventually ask him when there is no animal in sight.

He half turns to me, seeming unsure of himself. "Calling the cats?"

"That's not how you call a cat." I tell him confidently and reach into my bag to pull out the packet of treats I'd brought along.

He stands back and watches as I begin to make a loud clicking sound with my tongue, the same sound I make for my own babies at home. At the same time I shake the packet of treats and like magic, the glorious creatures begin to appear.

There's seven of them, all racing in and stumbling over each other in order to get to me first. My heart pounds and excitement bubbles up from deep inside of me. They're all sleek, rather than fluffy and are all muted colors, gray, black and white, and are laden with spots as opposed to stripes.

Then they all look at me and start meowing and my soul feels satisfied. I could die right now and be happy.

Correction: they're all so cute I almost died.

"How did you do that?" Namjoon asks in amazement as I sit down on the floor and allow myself to be completely consumed by cats.

"What do you mean?" I ask breathlessly. The smallest kitty, wearing a pink bow and a string of bells, (I can only assume this is Princess Jingle Bell) has jumped onto my shoulder and is bumping her head into my ear. A gray one with white spots sits on my lap and rolls around playfully while a solid black one headbutts my side until I pay it attention.

"They won't come when we call them! They just sit and look at us!"

"Cats don't come when you call them, they come when they want to." I explain while rubbing a gray one with white feet on the tummy. "That's why I brought the treats; as an incentive. After they get to know and trust you they'll come because they like you...If they feel like it."

"Careful, don't pet that one!" his words rush out as a black one with a white spot over one eye approaches my outstretched hand. "She's scratched all of us, she even bit Jimin-"

Both me and the cats ignore Namjoon (it's easy when he's spouting nonsense like 'don't touch the cat') and the black cat sniffs me cautiously. After a moment, she seems satisfied and jumps into my lap where she begins to purr loudly.

"Yes, you're a sweetheart aren't you?" I spoke to it in a baby voice. "Silly Namjoon doesn't know what he's saying."

"Yah!"

"You're just a wittle softy! Yes you are, yes you are!"

"How are you doing this?" he asks, and by the tone of the voice I can tell he's in awe.

"What do you mean?" Two more kittens approach, one all white with the exception of one leg and a tail, the other a solid gray one with blue eyes and I squeal in happiness.

They all settle in on my lap, most of them sitting on others in some way, shape, or form but they're cats so they don't care if their sibling's ass is on their head and the other's foot is digging into their ribs. All of them purr contentedly and gaze up at me with little round heads that make me want to cry they're so cute.

This is the best day of my life.

"That is the calmest I have ever seen them!" Namjoon explains, clearly still in wonder.

"They know Y/n-unnie loves them."

Sixty minutes and a handful of treats later I was coming down from my blissful state of cat euphoria. All of the excitement had worn them out and they were currently in an adorable heap on the couch, paying no mind to the thousands of pictures I was taking and sending to everyone.

For some reason no one showed much interest apart from Carl, bless his soul. He was just as excited as I was and in return sent me pictures of his own cats. Every time this would happen I'd show them to an uninterested Namjoon who thought we should be talking about our relationship instead of cats.

I don't know what's wrong with him.

He needs to get his priorities straight.

Of course we needed to talk.

But cats come first.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asks while rolling his eyes. The black kitten had just yawned and I'd started to fangirl all over again.

"Sure." I answer without taking my eyes or my phone's camera lens off them. Ten more pictures of them should do it.

Of each of them.

"Come with me." His hand takes hold of my own and tugs gently.

"But-" I whine, "the kittens-"

"The kittens will be here when we get back." He assures and tugs insistently until I'm standing. How could he do this to me?

Silently I set the phone down and allow him to lead me into his big ass kitchen, complete with two refrigerators (who needs two?) a gas stove, and white granite counter tops.

As I observe the spacious island and the neatly hung pots and pans above it I can hear dad distantly screaming in my head. He would love this kitchen and would be so jealous if he saw it in someone else's house. Speaking of, why is it so quiet here?

"Where is everyone?" I ask when a cold bottle of water is placed in my hand.

Namjoon chuckles and I try and fail not to let my heart flutter when I see his smile.

"Did you just now notice that we're alone?"

I pause after taking a sip. "We are?"

How caught up in those cats was I that I didn't notice the absence of six other teenage boys? I haven't met all of them, but the ones I have met aren't exactly quiet.

Also, why I am shocked by this?

"Yes." Namjoon's hand wraps around the water bottle that I'm holding and moves it to the counter.

I watch him suspiciously, suddenly getting the inkling feeling that he's planning something.

Once done, he turns back to me and his jaw is protruding. Oh no. I know what he's going to say before it comes out of his mouth and in preparation I take a step backwards.

"We need to talk."

I move one more step back—and that's as far as I get before he's got me in his grip and I'm being pulled in and lifted, as easily as if I weigh nothing to sit on the surface of the island.

Not wasting another second he closes in, setting both hands on the surface next to my hips, efficiently caging me in.

I'd been so stunned by this unusually aggressive tactic from him that my only reaction at first had been an uncharacteristic squeak while being lifted and then an indignant huff when I realized what he'd just done.

"What are you-"

It pisses me off when I see the smirk on his face. A face that is way too close for my liking at the moment. I lean as far back as I can without falling over (which isn't very much, mind you) and fix him with a glare.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snap furiously. "Let me down!"

"No." he says firmly. "You aren't going anywhere until we talk about this."

"You-you can't do that." The words are meant to be confident but I feel unsure. My imagination starts to run wild again. "That's kidnapping."

"No, it's not." Namjoon suddenly grins and I'm momentarily stunned by the sight of those dimples, up close and personal. "You're my kitty. So it's kittynapping."

"You think you're cute?"

His smirk is back. "Actually, I do."

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Edited 7/28/21