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Mate is sad! Fix it! Fix it now! I'm trying, believe me.

I really am. Today was the first time I've ever seen Y/n this way. There was twice before where I'd seen her tears. The first time she'd been afraid because BooBoo was hurt, the second time she'd been scared again, but neither of those occasions compared to now.

Today she's scary. Scarier than usual. There's an unmistakable emotional roller coaster she's riding on and I have no choice but to ride along it with her if I want to stay in her presence.

On a normal day, her mood ranges from grumpy to happy, and will stay in that range, sometimes venturing into the middle ground that is 'tolerating but will bite'. Occasionally I get to see her playful side, where she poses the most random, off the wall questions and thinks I'm the odd one for not being able to answer.

The thing is, these moods have a natural flow and I've learned how to decipher when each one is about to appear. But...today is different.

Today, I walk in and she's laughing, then she's crying, then she's laughing. This went from crying and then to a passionate mood of sorts, which was everything I'd ever hoped it would be, though it ended with a well deserved series of kicks to my shin. As masochistic as it sounds, I love when that side of her shows itself. She's strong and opinionated and doesn't hesitate to speak her mind or stand up for herself. Every time I see it I end up adoring her more, something I continue to make the mistake of thinking is impossible.

Mate gives the best kisses. The best.

Since it's always been so easy to fluster her I'd had this idea in my head that she would be timid when it came to kissing. On the contrary, she was the one to take the lead and was far more aggressive than I had pegged her to be. She blushes when I compliment her or remind her of how much I admire her. I was the one blushing when she bit my ear and rolled her tongue experimentally along the back of it, before whispering that dirty, four letter word that had me hot all over and ready to snap.

I don't know why I liked that so much. Most likely because it's her doing it. She could boil me in hot tar and I'd say thank you.

Mate would never do that. Mate likes me. Y/n likes me, she thinks you're weird.

An unhappy rumble sounds inside of my head before my wolf snaps back.

She said I was cute. Actually, she said I was cute before she ever complimented you. You couldn't win her without showing me, remember?

...Oh...You're right.

She's sad, fix it!

Since we stepped out of the vet's office, Y/n had been irregularly silent. What they had said in there was obviously bothering her, but she hadn't said a word about it. If she wanted to talk about it, I know she would, so I don't pressure her. The problem with that is, I don't know what to say. How do I fix this? I can't. What would make it better would be if I could assure her that her cat is alright. I can't do that. I can let her know that I'm here for her, but something tells me that this isn't what she needs to hear.

She needs hugs. Our hugs can help Mate to feel better. Are you sure?

He's probably right. He can sense her feelings better than I can. While he has a sort of sixth sense for it, I depend on judging her facial expressions and thinking over every word she says carefully.

By the time we arrive back at her home, not one word had been spoken, but the sound of her breathing had evened out somewhat, a sign that she wasn't on the edge of tears anymore. I'm so glad. I hate when she cries. It's the worst thing ever. I'd rather see a hundred different remixes of 'sexy like a porn star' than to see her cry once.

She doesn't let BooBoo out of the carrier until we've reached the kitchen, and when she does, he strolls out, casual as ever. Voldemort leaves the water bowl in the corner to greet him, but the second he takes one sniff, the hackles on his back and tail raise up and he hisses.

"Yah!" Y/n snaps her fingers and scolds him. "Don't be rude to your brother!"

BooBoo, just as alarmed by this 'new' cat hisses in return, earning a scolding himself.

"You guys, stop this!" Y/n runs a hand through her hair tiredly. "Every time I take one of them to the vet they act like they don't know each other—STOP IT!"

The cats were now having a slap fight, albeit a very weak one, both standing on their hind legs and scowling in one another's direction.

This is when Steve appears, sliding around the corner and barreling toward us. At first I thought he was coming to greet Y/n, but he bypasses her (and the fighting cats) to rub himself along my legs, his multicolored tail standing proudly in the air.

Y/n takes a moment to glare at him before pulling out BooBoo's medicine and new can food, all the while muttering something about traitorous children.

Her mood picks up a lot when BooBoo eats the entire helping of food, along with the medicine hidden inside.

After some time we're back on the sofa, just as we had been before leaving for the vet. Except that this time Mr Lee wasn't spying on us, and this time we're actually watching the television.

Y/n is completely enthralled with the K-drama playing on the screen, but each scene that passes leaves me more frustrated and confused than the last one. Why do the male leads keep grabbing the female's wrist? And they're hardly being gentle about it. If I ever did that to Y/n she'd bite my head off.

Not only that, but why are these two men fighting over this woman? She's homeless, jobless, doesn't possess any discernible skills, and is easily the most dimwitted character on the show. Meanwhile both men are multi billionaires, and extremely successful. One is inherently rude and cruel, while the other is practically an angel. Strangely, the woman falls for the cruel one.

I don't understand this.

None of it makes sense, but the main thing frustrating me the most, I pose as a question to my mate, who appears to have watched this before.

"Why do they keep misunderstanding everything possible?!?"

Y/n giggles cutely and lays her head on my shoulder. "They have to; it's a K-drama."

"That doesn't make sense." I point out as the female lead is now sliding down a wall, crying heavily for the ninth time this episode. I wonder if the actress got tired of having to cry so much. "Why are we watching this?"

"Cause of that." Y/n's voice is all appreciation as the next scene starts with a wholly unnecessary close up of the male lead's abs in the shower.

"Yah!" Panicking, I attempt to shield her eyes but she's ready for me, slapping my hand away and staring avidly at the TV screen.

We have a mini wrestling match over the remote that is entirely chaotic for me, with the shower scene playing and the actor exposing more skin by the second, Y/n laughing her head off, and my wolf screaming in my head to be careful, but not forgetting to add that I should find the actor and kill him. Because that's logical.

To add more chaos to the mix, the volume somehow began to skyrocket. Come to find out that the remote ended up falling during the struggle and Madam Sparklepuss sat on it.

"Can you just-" I don't remember what the end of that sentence was supposed to be, once I realize the position we're in, her being pinned to the couch beneath me. Both my wolf and I think different thoughts, but at the same time.

She smells so good. She's so pretty.

And she smells like dessert.

See if she'll kiss us again!

The wolf in my head is excited and greedy for more of her kisses. I can practically feel his tail wagging, silently begging for her attention. She has been irregularly affectionate today, on and off. It's likely she's come back around to a more pleasant mood.

"Get the fuck off me, you weigh like a thousand pounds."

Or not.

I puff my cheeks cutely, attempting to use one of her weaknesses against her. "Pay the toll." Tapping a finger against my lower lip, I pucker them comically and inch closer.

"Bite me."

This line turned out to be very hard to resist.

"Just one." I manage to whine out after swallowing the lump in my throat. She really needs to be wary of her choice of words...then again, she doesn't know why that would affect me. "Please?" I resort to begging when she shows no signs of obliging. I'm not too proud.

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she accommodates my request in the form of three kisses instead of the asked for one, planting one on each cheek and the third on the tip of my nose.

I want more. Me too.

"Huh?"

You replied out loud.

Apologizing, (I don't know why) I retreated back to my original position on the couch. After sending a quizzical look my way, she retrieved the remote from underneath the cat on the floor and lowered the volume.

Steve, who had been annoyingly persistent all day, continually nudged against my arm for pets. I like this cat, but at this point I wish he'd give me some space. There was no way he was going to leave on his own. And I've got a feeling that if I asked Y/n to maybe lock him in another room, she'd take his side and say I was being mean. It was more likely that I'd be the one locked in another room.

"What's your wolf's name?"

This draws my attention from the calico right away, as confusing as the question is. "My wolf's name is Namjoon...? He's me."

"No," she waves a hand dismissively and gives a warm squeeze and a cuddle to Madam Sparklepuss when she jumps in her lap. "That was him you were talking to, right? I don't think you realize how often you talk to to him out loud. Anyway, you said you talked to him in your head, so what do you call him?"

I stared at her, perplexed. My wolf is me, he is my wolf and we're Namjoon. Is it that confusing?

Before I could answer she asks, "have you ever asked him?"

"No. That would be a pointless endeavor. He's me. We're the same person."

She gives me a look so stern I feel like I should straighten my posture to avoid being scolded further. "You're being very rude to your wolf, Namjoon." she admonishes. "Ask him what his name is."

This is absurd. I was opening my mouth to explain that once again, we are both Namjoon, but my wolf's voice stops me.

Tell her to name me. That's ridiculous; you aren't a pet.

I'll be hers. You're both crazy.

She and him probably have more in common than she and I do, but maybe that's how it's meant to be. When I relay the message, her eyes light up and she claps her hands together, bouncing on the sofa a little. While the sight causes my heart to perform a somersault, I can feel Him yipping happily .

"Then his name-" she pauses for dramatic affect before delivering the final blow, "is Fluffy."

My eyes widen. "I don't-"

Address me as Fluffy from now on!

I give up. Y/n is thrilled and when she's happy she becomes distractingly gorgeous. It's a small consolation to the hit on my masculinity.

—

Edited 9/27/21