Chapter Text
Ani absolutely, positively, indisputably should have told Igor no. She didn’t have the space, she didn’t have the time, and it was almost certainly against the terms of her lease. This was one-hundred-fucking-percent his problem, not hers. End of story. But then he had begged and pleaded, and at last she caved, as they had both known she would eventually do. And so sometime after 10:00 that night, her weirdo boyfriend had come over to her apartment and deposited his problem directly in her lap. It stared up at her with enormous yellow eyes and let out a tiny and extremely pathetic meow.
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Ani said as the black kitten squirmed around in her hands and almost escaped. “You found it, why can’t you just take it home?”
“My grandmother is allergic,” Igor explained. He squatted down and attempted to pet it, but it batted his hand away with its paw. According to him, the kitten had somehow snuck into the restaurant during his shift, and it had taken the entire staff close to an hour to finally corner it in the kitchen and catch it. “Anora, please…”
“I don’t know how to take care of a cat,” she protested. The only pet she’d ever had was a goldfish named Dennis, who had gone belly-up in his tank after less than a week. (RIP, little dude.) That had been traumatizing enough. And a kitten was way more fucking complicated than a fish. “Like, what am I supposed to feed it?”
“I bought cat food,” he reassured her. He fished a few cans out of his backpack, followed by a water bowl, a collar, a cat bed, and a bird-shaped toy with brightly colored feathers. Clearly he’d had time to go shopping.
She stared at Igor and his cat supplies, which were now scattered around the floor of her kitchen. “What about a litter box?”
“Oh.” He scratched his head. “Yeah, I will get that too. But you will help, right?”
She thought it over as the kitten gave another little yowl. The thing was actually trembling in her hands. She imagined it huddling in the corner of a cage in some animal shelter, scared and all alone. God fucking damn it.
“Fine,” she said. “But this is temporary, okay? You find a home for it. Also, I’m not cleaning the fucking litter box; that’s your job.”
A smile spread across his face. “Deal.”
They ended up sticking the kitten in the bathroom, which seemed like the least likely place for it to get in trouble. It darted out of her hands as soon as she let go and went and hid behind the toilet. Ani put some water in its bowl while Igor opened the can of food, and then they sat on the floor and waited. After a few minutes, the kitten hesitantly stepped out, gobbled down the food, and dashed back to its hiding place. And Ani wasn’t about to tell Igor this, but okay, it was kind of cute.
“What do you want to call it?” she asked him. “I guess we should give it a name.”
He looked thoughtful. “We can call it Igor,” he said very seriously. Then he grinned and she gave him a little shove. “Just kidding.”
“You’re an asshole,” she said. On the other hand, it wasn’t like she had a better idea. And Igor was a good name, after all. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, and he reached over and squeezed her hand. They stayed that way for a long time, neither of them speaking—just soaking up each other’s warmth.
From behind the toilet, Igor Jr. meowed, turned around a few times, and then settled down and went to sleep.
She ended up keeping Igor Jr. in the end. He was good company, for the most part: affectionate and cuddly and only occasionally a bastard (but for a cat, that was to be expected). Perched on the windowsill watching the world go by below, stretched out on a sunny spot on the floor, living his best feline life. And in the mornings after Ani got home from work and collapsed into bed, he would curl up at her side, and she would fall asleep to the sound of him purring in perfect contentment.