I Unintentionally Became Her Kitten

Chapter 122: Itai

I didn’t go back to sleep. Even if I tried, I didn’t think I’d be able to. My skin still felt charged from the adrenaline, though we got the glass cleaned up and Alisha sent an email to whatever contractor did work on her house so the window would be fixed in a couple days. In the meantime we taped a plastic bag over the hole so nothing could get in.

I sat on the couch as Alisha took her first shower since the night before last, relaxing back against the cushions. Before, I had no idea there were guns everywhere. And now, I wondered how many other guns were in the house. Surely her bedroom was the place she had the most and they had been placed in key areas, not just haphazardly. Still it was sobering to see her pull all eight of them out of their hiding places and put them away in the closet. 

I watched the sun start to paint the sky greys and lavenders before the blue started to take over.

I frowned, seeing something out on the balcony out there, on the other side of the window.

It looked like some form of trash, which was why it had me concerned. Alisha and I hadn’t stepped foot out there. I got up, putting my phone aside and walked over, examining it through the glass.

Trash, right?

I investigated the door, found the dead bolt keeping it shut and managed to turn it over, stepping out into the outside world.

It felt open and exposed out here. That would explain why Alisha ignored this part of her house. A cold wind blew across the stonework in that lavender hued light.

I approached the trash, frowning more.

It wasn’t trash.

It was a bat. A dead bat and upon a slightly further inspection I saw the wound that downed it and immediately turned to look where the bullet had punched through the window.

Alisha hadn’t missed, I realized. Neither of us had seen the tiny creature in the dark.

I saw Alisha start to come out of the bathroom and with a hurried step, I swiped my foot to kick the bat off the balcony, letting it fall into the tall grass below.

She didn’t need to know how lethal she was when not conscious.

I still felt a bit bad about kicking the poor creature on top of everything else but at least it would end up reclaimed by the earth down there rather than getting mummified up here.

Alisha stepped out onto the balcony behind me. She didn’t like it. There was no immediately visible evidence to an outsider but I knew her well enough the stillness told me more than anything.

“Is everything alright, Kitten?” she asked.

I nodded, and went back to where she was hovering by the door. “Just curious,” I reassured her, and herded her back in before she saw any telltale signs of blood. Even tiny blood.

She didn’t protest, looking relieved to be inside again.

Her hand trailed back and wrapped around my waist before pulling me closer.

There was warmth radiating from her from the shower still. And she smelled wonderfully like lavender and cucumber.

And then she was pushing me ahead of her, then onto the bed.

I flushed hotly and turned myself over to watch her climb on after me and pull me in until our foreheads were touching.

Then she pushed me down the rest of the way. My body didn’t argue the treatment. She always made me feel good.

I laid in the bed after, warm, floaty, and completely content as she got up again and finished fixing her hair up.

She gave me that teasing smirk she did when she knew my insides were melty.

A selfish thought that I was glad she was ordered off work for a week passed through my brain, though I dismissed it quickly. Her affection was nice, but the anxiety and worry from watching her be so still for so long still lingered somewhere.

I yawned, stretched and then started to get up, just to have her put a hand on my chest and guide me back down again.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Shh,” she hushed me. Her hands started to roam again, leaving sparks of overstimulation in their wake.

“Alisha,” I started to protest

She kissed my forehead. “I can get more out of you,” she said coyly.

My hair stood on end and I started to pull away but she didn’t quite let me.

“Itai,” I stated firmly, my heart starting to beat with fear, not arousal.

She froze, pulled her hands away and sat back to look at me, brow furrowed.

I let out a breath, relieved. “I’m confused,” I told her.

“I love you,” she said.

“I… I know. But that didn’t feel…” I didn’t quite know how to explain. “Are you doing this for me or to shut your brain off?” I asked finally.

Her eyes skittered briefly as her thoughts processed. “Oh,” she said, realizing what I was saying.

I reached a hand out, letting her put her face into it lovingly. “I love you too, Alisha,” I told her. “But I don’t have more in me for today.”

She nodded, kissed my hand lovingly. “Okay,” she agreed.

I sat up the rest of the way, folding my bare legs underneath me. “Do you want to talk?” I asked her. “About feelings?”

“Are we fighting?” she asked. There was more concern and worry, probably about me.

I shook my head. “No. I mean about how you’re feeling. Without your work.”

She shifted on the bed, letting her legs relax more from their braced position. “I don’t know what there is to talk about. I don’t have anything to do. I don’t know how to fill the time,” she explained.

“I thought it was deeper than that,” I said calmly. “Like… anxiety. Like you feel like something bad’s going to happen if you aren’t doing something right now.”

She was silent.

“I know it’s… hard,” I told her. “I… was diagnosed with anxiety in college. I remember feeling frustrated about it.”

She took a breath, evened herself out a bit. “If I can’t turn my feelings off,” she started. “I can’t control them.”

I nodded.

“And if I can’t control them they spiral,” she said. “And I end up curled up on the bathroom floor of the laundromat, blubbering like an idiot.”

I put a hand on hers. “You’re human,” I reminded her. “Not a machine.”

She stared at the messed up comforter. “No one else can know that.”

My hand squeezed a little bit. I hoped it was reassuring to her. “You don’t have to show other people,” I told her. “But you’re not coping healthily by completely turning your emotions off.”

I pulled her down onto the bed with me and nestled against her.

“I know it's hard, but do you want to try to just be for a bit?”

“‘Just be?’” she echoed. She got more comfortable next to me, rustling the sheets around.

“Yes. So your brain processes feelings,” I explained. “So you can let go of them.”

There was more silence from her, though I could feel her thinking still. “I-I will cry,” she pointed out.

“No one else has to know,” I reassured.

She pulled me closer.

Once the tears started, they didn’t really stop until she had nothing left, but she still shook against me.

I didn’t ask what she was crying about. She might not even know, but the emotions bled out until she was limp and exhausted.