A/N: So I feel like writing short stories all of the sudden, and if that will get me back into writing then I say, go for it! Plus I could use the short story practice. I’m also curious to see if I can write one a day. (We’ve got two and counting. lol.) I do hope to start in on Bedlam again soon, I just need to get used to sitting down and writing again. Until then, enjoy what ever I happen to put up. Like this…

In Need of a Better Day

The sound of the crowd grows loud then fades as the door swings closed once more. The street is quiet, but for the distant sound of cars driving along the wet streets. The constant mist of rain makes no sound upon the city already awash in water.

She stumbles down the stairs, away from the club. She is too tired for dancing, too angry at her friends’ indifference to stay. Amazing how alone she could feel in such a crowded place. She notices the increasing damp after a few paces and sighs in resignation at yet another annoyance. She slumps against the wall of the building, waiting for the cab she has already called.

A small noise, and the thud of something furry hitting her leg, makes her jump with a gasp. She looks down to find a cat at her feet. It is looking at her reproachfully with its green, slit-pupil eyes, as though she has purposefully gotten in its way. She returns its look with one that says, you’re the one who should be watching where he’s going.

The cat makes a huffing noise, then ducks its head once more against the rain and continues on its way. She watches it for a moment, the slim form, barely out of kitten-hood, resembling a drowned rat more than a cat, its golden fur matted into brown snarls.

Without thinking she scoops it from the ground. It yowls and bares its teeth, claws extended to kill. She ignores all this and holds it before her face. She quirks a brow and, as the taxi pulls up to the curb, asks a silent question with a jerk of her head. Want to come?

To her surprise the animal calms in her hands, and she takes this as an answer. She steps into the taxi and spends the ride to her apartment absently petting the shivering animal in her lap. It is only as they arrive that she realizes that a deep rumble is coming from the creature. This brings a smile to her lips, the first of the entire night.

She carries the still purring cat up to her apartment, where she dries them both, and presents the animal with a bowl of milk and some leftover roast beef, both of which disappear quickly.

Then she curls up in her bed, and lets the tears flow for all that has gone wrong that night. She feels the weight of the cat as it jumps onto the bed, and another smile tinges her lips as it burrows beneath the sheets to curl up against her stomach. The purring begins again, and she lets the soothing sound carry her into sleep.

She wakes to sunlight streaming through her window. Perhaps this day will be better than the last. Still groggy from sleep, she feels a pressure against her stomach, and remembers her guest from the night before. Smiling she reaches beneath the sheet and runs her fingers through soft hair and against smooth skin….Skin?

Suddenly wide awake, she throws the sheet back. There curled beside her, his head pressed against her side, is a man with ruffled tawny hair and, when he opens them a moment later, green eyes with cat-slit pupils. He is not wearing anything as far as she can tell, and her eyes unconsciously travel along the lean length of his body before quickly jerking back to his face when her gaze reaches the spot where his lower half disappears beneath the sheet.

Her mouth moves, but no words emerge. It is impossible. He can’t be.

He looks at her. He tilts his head. He reaches to her and pulls her back down beside him. He quirks an eyebrow in silent question. Staying?

Still in shock, though disbelief is quickly fading, she doesn’t resist his pull. A moment later she has regained enough of her poise to respond in kind. It’s my apartment.

A smile grows on his lips, wild, rakish, and he begins to pull the sheet back over them. She shivers at the smile, but returns it with one of her own as the sunlight is blocked by the smooth fabric and soft fingers trace her cheek. This day would definitely be better than the last.