#concrete porch stairs

[akashihuahua]

Porch Chicago

This is an illustration of a modern concrete back porch with a roof extension that is medium in size.

[vezely]

Huge classic concrete front porch idea large traditional concrete front porch concept

[kazuos]

Mediterranean Porch in Austin Ideas for a sizable Mediterranean-style concrete paver front porch renovation

[tethrasing]

Roof Extensions - Patio Huge front yard brick patio photo with a roof extension

[seabreezebazaar]

Contemporary Porch in Chicago

This is an illustration of a modern, mid-sized concrete back porch with an addition to the roof.

[marymars-shop]

New York Poolhouse Inspiration for a large contemporary front yard concrete and rectangular lap pool house remodel

[mahina-honu]

Brick Pavers - Landscape Inspiration for a huge partial sun front yard brick driveway.

[peachhtea]

San Francisco Natural Inspiration for a massive Mediterranean backyard remodel featuring a naturally occurring pool fountain

[hekyll-jyde]

Chicago Front Yard Ideas for a sizable, modern concrete front porch renovation with an awning

[fujofi]

Porch - Backyard

[izuminokamiis]

Traditional Exterior - Fiberboard

[eksvaized]

[ Next ] [ All In One ] part 1, MDNI

The vibrant colours of the setting sun blend effortlessly with the cool, dusky sky, bringing a sense of tranquillity. With every step you take down the deserted street, your eyes dart around. Your gaze keeps scanning your surroundings. The faint smell of old rain on the ground fills your nostrils. It's a sharp contrast to the day's disappearing warmth. You tread carefully, being cautious not to let the hard soles of your boots echo against the cold concrete. Despite the ache in your legs and the dull throb in your sore feet, you maintain a brisk pace. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your hurried footsteps.

In your right hand, which is glued to your side, you hold a hefty knife. The handle feels cold and digs into your skin. Your sweaty palm makes maintaining a steady grip a constant struggle. This forces you to adjust your hold occasionally to prevent the sharp blade from slipping through your fingers. As your gaze scans a row of abandoned houses, your eyes glide along the overgrown front lawns. The sight triggers an unsettling realisation — you have never been in this neighbourhood before.

A cold shudder trails down your spine. You swallow hard, trying to loosen the knot of fear tightening in your stomach. The thrill of discovering unknown places is usually a welcome feeling. It means you may find something useful. Whether it's a warm jacket, a gun with a few bullets in its chamber, or an abandoned stash of food. But when the sun sets and darkness takes over, unfamiliar territory is the last place you wish to be. Right now, you have no choice. You are miles away from your home. No matter how hard you are determined to push yourself, you won't be able to reach it tonight. You need to find another place to spend the night in. Roaming the dark streets at night is not an option — it's a risk you are reluctant to take.

The houses in this neighbourhood are all abandoned. But the dead could still be lurking within these dilapidated homes. As you continue walking down the street, you find yourself peering through the dusty broken windows. Eventually, your gaze falls on a particular house. Its windows are boarded up, though the front door stands ajar. You hesitate for a moment, your senses on high alert, listening for any signs of movement. Though you'd prefer to wait a few more minutes, the night is growing darker, and you can't keep standing on the porch. A biter could sneak up on you, and you don't wish to be its dinner tonight.

Deciding this place will have to do, you hold the knife in front of you and push the door. As it creaks, the sound reverberates through the air, causing you to grimace. You step inside the dark hallway, feeling the tension mounting. When no one jumps out at you from the shadows, you retrieve a flashlight from your backpack and turn it on. You explore the first floor, checking the living room and kitchen. A quick peek into the bathroom downstairs and an empty broom closet reassures you of your solitude. Apart from the sea of dust, broken furniture and an expired can of tomato soup, you find no signs of life. The shadows, once threatening, now offer solace in their silence.

Before climbing upstairs, you secure the front door and all the windows. You double and triple-check each one, making sure that no one else will get in or see you creeping around the house.

When you come to a halt at the top of the stairs, a sense of unease washes over you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. For a moment, you are convinced you hear something, akin to a whisper or a hushed footfall. Your heart races and your muscles tense, preparing for a biter that might be looming behind one of the closed doors. But it's a false alarm. A tiny rat scurries along the floor. You jump when the tiny creature brushes past your boots with its coarse fur.

As you step into the bedroom, the first thing you notice is the bed. It's been stripped of its mattress. The headboard is in a pitiful state, splintered and broken, a mere shadow of its former self. The rest of the room is sparse, furnished only with a chair and a dusty dresser, which you shove in front of the door. It serves as an extra layer of protection in case someone or something sneaks up on you in the dead of night.

Before settling down in the relative safety of a dim corner, you can't help but glance out of the window. Your eyes scan the backyard. You assure yourself that no biters are creeping around. Only then do you allow yourself a moment of relief. With a shaky hand, you pull the curtains closed, sealing yourself from the outside.

The world you are living in now has drastically changed, and you despise it. At first, you believed you might survive. The dead, or 'biters' as you've come to refer to them, were a constant source of terror. Their incessant low growling, the lifeless, pale gaze of their eyes, and their insatiable hunger terrified you. Yet, you weren't alone. You had a family: a mother, a father, and a brother. They made each day in this apocalypse easier to bear.

However, one time, your father was attacked. A biter cornered your mother, causing her to stumble, fall and freeze in terror. Without hesitation, your father shielded her from the dead man. Unarmed, without a gun or knife, he did his best to make the biter retreat. That day, he saved your mother but was bitten. Over the course of two nights, your father grew weaker and weaker. One fateful morning, you found him dead in the backyard. A knife embedded in his heart — the same one you now always carry with you — he killed himself since he knew what awaited him. He refused to become a dead walking man.

And yet, he turned into a biter. You were kneeling beside him when his eyes peeled open. Your father lunged towards you. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he tried to sink his teeth into your arm. Your mother was crying, begging you to leave your father alone. To keep her from intervening as you pulled the knife from your father's chest, your brother had to coddle her in his arms. You weren't conscious of your actions. But you knew you didn't want to die, nor did you want to see your brother or mother getting killed. So, with a shaky hand, you plunged the knife into your father's skull, causing his body to collapse on the ground.

That day, your father died twice. The last time he died, he taught you an important lesson — always aim for a biter's head.

You and your brother buried him together. Your mother, overwhelmed by grief and despair, stayed inside the house and locked herself in the bedroom. From then on, your world was forever altered. The constant sorrow that washed over you was like a tidal wave. A relentless pain that welled up in your heart and threatened to make you break down in tears at any given moment. But you swallowed all your emotions, including the terror that gripped you daily. You had to be strong, not just for yourself, but for your mother and your brother.

In a cruel twist of fate, you were separated from them during a terrifying encounter with a horde of biters. The days passed one by one. Slowly. No matter how long and hard you looked, you couldn't find them as if they had vanished into thin air. There was a possibility that they were dead and that the next time you will see them, they would be among the biters. Yet you refuse to even let such thoughts settle in your mind. You cling to the hope that when you find them, they will be alive and well.

In the early hours of the morning, noises emanating from downstairs wake you up. At first, you're disoriented, struggling to comprehend that you were indeed sleeping. But as the loud clamour persists and even increases in volume, any chance of falling back to sleep is eliminated.

Blinking, you try to adjust your eyes to the harsh brightness of the morning light. It filters through the dirty curtains. Your skin is freezing, and the cold is seeping into your bones. The fear that grips you. You don't dare to move and remain glued to the floor, sitting in the corner of the room. You listen to the commotion downstairs, your heart pounding in your chest. To combat the creeping chill, you move your fingers. This repetitive motion makes your blood flow through your veins again, providing a much-needed source of warmth to your otherwise icy body.

You know you must get out of this house before whoever is downstairs decides to explore the second floor and discovers you. Fear runs through your body like ice-cold water. You aren't a fighter; you have never been. Even outside, when you encounter a biter, it's a struggle for you. The prospect of having to fight the dead within the confined space of this home is terrifying. There is less room to manoeuvre. Escape could be more difficult, and a fight could end before it begins if a biter sneaks up on you. Your only other option is to risk jumping out of the window. But you've never been fond of heights. Not to mention the very real possibility you might injure yourself.

You pack your backpack. Casting a sweeping glance around the bedroom, you ensure nothing of value is left behind. Gathering your courage, you push aside the dresser that's been barricading the door. Your senses heighten as you leave the room and approach the staircase. You tiptoe down, gripping the railing. The sound of footsteps in the living room intensifies your alertness. You draw your knife, ready to stab any biter that comes into your peripheral view. Right now, there's no room for caution. Your survival instinct is in high gear because you're determined not to get bitten.

After rounding the corner, you press your body against the wall and peek inside the living room. Your eyes immediately land on a towering figure. His back is turned towards you, so he's unaware of your presence. You have never seen such a big-biter before, let alone fought one. However, he is blocking your only way out. If you want to exit the house, you need to reach the front door. You can't climb out through the windows because they are all bolted shut. And if you want to step a foot in the hallway, first you need to cross the living room. But it's impossible while the biter is still in there, and your only choice is to deal with him.

In your mind, you toy with the idea of tossing something across the floor. The noise might divert his attention long enough for you to sneak past. But this might not work. Your gut tells you that your only viable option, although terrifying, is to approach the biter from behind and plunge your knife into his skull before he can turn around and grab you.

At first, everything goes according to your plan. You are quiet and avoid drawing unwanted attention towards yourself. Yet, as you are about to strike, the biter spins around and lunges at you with an unexpected ferocity. Your knife slips out of your hand. It clatters onto the floor. You are knocked off balance, your feet betraying you on the deceptive carpet. The fall is harsh. Your back collides with the unforgiving ground. A loud groan of pain escapes your lips as you feel the shock of the impact.

You roll to the side, keeping your eyes, wide and filled with fear, fixated on the biter. You notice his face is concealed — he is wearing a skull mask. This means he can't bite you. The realisation strikes you like a bolt of lightning. It reignites the dwindling flame of hope inside of you and causes a surge of strength to flood your body.

The biter is relentless, showing an uncanny level of determination for a dead man. He charges at you, his hand extending as he tries to grab your hair. Despite still being on the floor, you push your body backwards, just barely evading his grasp. The carpet burns your exposed skin as you slide towards its edge. Your legs kick and slip on the dirty, coarse material.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you start swearing. Your eyes race across the floor, desperately searching for something, anything, to use as a weapon. Your heart pounds in your chest as you realise you don't know where your knife has landed.

As the string of curse words tumbles from your lips, the dead man, who had seemed unstoppable until now, suddenly comes to a complete halt. You, too, freeze. Your mind races as you try to figure out what made him take a step back from you. There is a brief moment of silence, but then you come back to your senses. This is your chance to flee. With a burst of adrenaline, you push past your fear and leap to your feet.

"Duck!" The man roars, his voice booming in the quiet. The sudden command almost throws you off balance and you stumble again. Nonetheless, without you realising it, your body reacts to the order, and you do as told.

He moves closer, his heavy footsteps making your heart pound even louder in your ears. You stop breathing, convinced that you've walked straight into his trap. But, to your surprise, he doesn't attack you. Instead, he lunges forward and stabs a biter that had crept up behind you.

Ever since you were left alone, you haven't seen a single other person. But now, you find yourself standing in front of another human being. It's a strange sensation. It's as if you've forgotten how to interact, how to react, and even how to contribute to a simple conversation. You're wary and apprehensive. You don't know who this man is, where he comes from, or what his intentions might be. Yet you can't bring yourself to leave. You want to at least say thank you before fleeing.

After all, he saved you. Even if he initially tried to cut you with your knife.

[eddies-ashtray]

Drunk Eddie being a clingy/insecure boy 🥺 lots of cuddles and kisses. “You love me right? Even though I’m a freak? I know I’m not the picture perfect person but I try my best to be good enough for you.” 😭

you’re just chatting casually with jeff on eddie’s porch, jeff standing in front of you while you sit on the porch couch, when eddie comes stumbling outside.

the front door smacks open clumsily, drawing your attention towards it, but no one comes out for a moment. then suddenly, eddie’s face appears around the door, his dark eyes landing on jeff.

“v’you seen y/n?” eddie slurs hopefully, hair falling over his face. when strands land in his mouth, he sputters and spits it out.

immediately, you realize he’s tipsy and know that jeff may not want to be around when eddie eventually figures out you’re out here.

jeff squints his eyes at eddie, then they slide over to you on the couch, then back to eddie as he says, gesturing vaguely to you:

“you mean the y/n sitting right in front of me?” jeff asks lightly, a note of jest in his voice.

leaning forward slightly on the couch, you wave at your very cute, very drunk boyfriend as his gaze shifts to you.

“hi, eddie.”

eddie’s entire face lights up at the sound and sight of you, smiling brightly. then, bambi-like as ever in his drunken state, eddie trips over himself and nearly falls down the concrete stairs as he shuts the trailer door enthusiastically. you and jeff both instinctively reach out for him, half rising off the couch as you do. but eddie recovers quickly, steadying himself on the porch railing and continuing his trek towards you.

eddie embraces jeff as soon as he’s within distance, and he grunts with the force of the hug. you stifle a laugh at his forward gesture.

“thank you,” eddie tells jeff earnestly as if he’d been searching for you for weeks and jeff had found the final clue to your location.

jeff claps him on the back with a: “sure thing, buddy.”

as soon as eddie pulls away from the heartfelt embrace, he plops himself in your lap casually. warmth rolls off of him in waves as he places soft kisses to your neck.

“right, well, i’m gonna-” jeff begins, jerking a thumb towards the trailer door.

“yeah,” you nod once, giving him an out. everyone was used to eddie’s drunken affections by now, but that didn’t mean they had to be subjected to his overt PDA toward you.

“missed you,” eddie says into your neck as the trailer door opens and closes, leaving you and eddie alone in the light fall breeze.

finally, he lays his head on your shoulder, his breath ghosting your now slightly damp neck.

you soothe down his arm as you say, empathetically, “it’s only been 15 minutes, baby.”

“yeah, but if you think about it, that’s like a thousand seconds and that’s somanyseconds.”

“you’re right, that is a lot of seconds,” you agree solemnly because there is no use in arguing with drunk eddie.

he moves his head off your shoulder in a flash and your eyes widen in surprise. his glassy brown ones meet yours as he asks, seemingly out of the blue, “do you think i’m a freak?”

you almost say, a little bit, yeah, but know he’s in no state to be joked around with when you see his twisted up features; the light pout of his mouth, the furrow in his brow.

“of course not,” you say instead, brushing some hair behind his ears. and then, slightly concerned when his features don’t smooth out, you ask: “you okay, puppy?”

when he looks up at you through his thick lashes he really does look puppy-like as ever.

he sniffles lightly as he explains, “know i’m not, like, normal. not like everyone e-”-he hiccups-“else. and yer so ‘mazing and could have, like, any fuckin person you want! i just wanna be good enough fer you.”

your heart aches in your chest. you’ve spoken about this before; had a couple serious conversations about eddie not feeling good enough for you. how he feels like you deserve someone smarter, someone who can impress your parents and buy you pretty things that remind them of you whenever they want. you’d worked through those thoughts together, reassuring him that he’s more than enough for you. but he can get a little extra insecure when he’s tipsy; dredging up old thoughts and feelings, especially as it gets later and he gets more in his head.

so you grab his pretty puppy dog face, and kiss him tenderly, deeply, pouring as much love as you can into it. he tastes like cheap beer and faintly of cigarettes as his tongue licks into your mouth sensually, groaning as he does so.

when you pull away, he whines and tries to chase your lips, but you have to say something first. he looks dazed and kinda spacey; big brown eyes somehow more glassy than they were previously, cheeks tinted a darker shade of pink.

“i love you so much, you wouldn’t believe it. and it’s because you’re a little different than everyone else…i’ve only ever wanted you.”

“jesus christ, i love you too,” eddie says, sounding pained by it.

he drags you back in for another kiss, this one longer than the last. and you spend the next while sitting outside with him, his head in your lap eventually as you braid small sections of his hair until you realize he’s fallen asleep, peacefully snoozing with your fingers still brushing through his hair.

you are so fucking lucky to love a dork like him.

***

pt. 1

pt. 2

[alecvolturiswifeforever]

All too well | F.V x Reader

warnings: angst? fluffff ( tbh i was listening to taylor swift while writing this hence the name)

ʚɞ

Pulling back the old curtains of your childhood home the familiar image of the Swan house came into view and the muscles of your jaw tensed on their own accord. Wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck and pulling your wool hat over your ears you stepped out of the front door, onto the porch. You were weary, well aware of the fact that if was snowing and there was more than likely ice waiting to send you sliding down the concrete stairs.

You lived in the house on the opposite side of the street. Both you and Bella had grown up together, practically conjoined from the moment she arrived back in Forks every time she would visit her father right up until the moments she had to leave.

That was until she left when she you were around thirteen, confessing to you that she wouldn’t be coming back to visit again anytime soon. You remembered the moment all too well, as if it was yesterday, the memory replaying in the forefront of your mind.

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You both let out rather loud giggles as you lay together upon your bed, flipping through old magazines you had stolen from your mother and gossiping like the preteen girls you were.

“Oh! I should get going… dad said I have to be home by six today! Early flight and all tomorrow” Bella rolled her eyes as she spoke and another giggle elicited from you as you sat up.

“How long are you going for this time?” You had questioned innocently and the atmosphere immediately changed as your room was suddenly full of an uncomfortable stuffiness. That was when she confessed.

“Um.. I don’t… I’m not really planning on coming back anytime soon…”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Mom said that we’re moving again… but it’s going to be more permanent this time and I just… I don’t really like coming here that much anyway…”

“Oh…”

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You recalled the tight feeling in your throat and the burn of tears behind your eyes. Yes you lived in the small town for your entire life but you had never really had many friends, none with the bond you had shared with the Swan girl and you definitely did not want to be friends with people like Jessica Stanley.

When Bella had moved back it was almost relieving and you both fell back into your old ways quickly. Staying at each others houses late, gossiping, sharing books and little trinkets.

That was until he came into the picture.

If you knew one thing it was that you absolutely despised Edward Cullen. Especially for taking your best friend away again just to leave her. Alone. In the middle of the woods. In the middle of September. What a jerk.

You were snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of voices, averting your eyes as you saw both Bella and her devil spawn step out of the house. Your lips parted as you made eye contact, and she threw you a glare turning to face Edward.

“Y/N, are you coming or not?” You heard the voice of your father yell from the car and you sighed before pulling the door shut and locking it.

“Coming!”

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“Bella please!”

You heard the yell from your spot on your couch and you rushed outside to see the commotion. Crossing the road and eyeing the sharp look of Alice.

“Bella is convinced she is going to Italy to save her leech..” Jacob hissed.

“Leech?” You whispered in confusion before shaking your head “Bella you cant just leave and go to Italy right now, what about your dad?”

“I’m 18. It’s legal.” She rolled her eyes and you huffed. Why did she always have to be so stubborn?

“Well then i’m coming with you.” You had reached for the handle to the backseat of the car and slid in. That was when Alice paused, Bella throwing a worried look in her direction. After a moment of silence she spoke up.

“Y/N I can’t let you come”

“Why not?”

“It’s not… safe for you.”

“Well either i’m going or both me and Bella or staying… and by the looks of it she’s not willing to get out of the car” You turned and strapped yourself in and Alice huffed under her breath before muttering a sharp ‘have it your way’ and speeding off.

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The rest was quite blurry for you, only remembering certain snippets of their explanations on the plane ride there. You were informed about the existence of vampires, how Bella and Edward were mated, Alice’s vision… all that boring stuff. You remembered one moment very well though.

The moment you made eye contact with him. The way his eyes softened as he took you in. The feel of his hand lightly brushing your back as you stood in the elevator.

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“Interesting” You heard the raven haired king hum, dropping your hand as he turned to look at the giant, seeking for his hand. He let out a loud laugh as you flinched back only to find Edward had pulled Bella back a few feet. You turned to look at him, eyes darting between him and the smaller Cullen next to them.

“What’s going on?” Your voice was accusing as you eyed them before you turned back to the man in front of you who was still looking at Felix.

“My dear, you have finally found your mate”

You remember the flip of your stomach, heartbeat increasing. You turned a hateful gaze back to Alice.

“You knew…” You spoke carefully as you put the pieces together. Your voice raised as she shook her head.

“You knew and you tried to stop me from coming!”

“Y/N…”

You only glared at her as the blonde king quickly moved back to the situation at hand.

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They had granted you all until graduation, Felix would visit you frequently while you continued the rest of your education and Edward had until then to turn his mate. The journey home was awkward to say the least. You and Alice had argued back and fourth in the reception once Demetri had guided you out of the throne room and after that they refused to acknowledge you. You rolled your eyes at the memory - the audacity of them to think it was you who was in the wrong, as if any of this was your fault.

They were furious that you had allowed him to speak to you, let alone touch you.

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“What do you want?” you heard Edwards menacing hiss as the vampire came into frame, lifting your head from where you had buried them into your knees to see what was happening.

“I’m here to speak to my mate. You will do well to back off before I put you through the wall again.”

You hoped his eyes wouldn’t fall onto you however the hope was quickly crushed as his gaze moved right to you, holding a large hand out to you.

“May I take a moment of your time?”

You sighed, half tempted to look to the others for guidance however you stopped yourself when you remembered they now wanted nothing to do with you. So you took his hand, uncurling yourself from the position you was in and allowed him to guide you out into a seemingly abandoned hallway.

“I apologise for the… violence… you had to witness, I did not intend for it to startle you.” Clearly he had heard the way your breathing had shallowed and your heartbeat increase then.

“It’s.. it’s fine” You struggled to find the right words to speak to the stranger in front of you and you shifted your weight from one foot to another awkwardly.

“You are so much more beautiful than I had imagined” You were convinced you weren’t meant to hear that, tilting your head to look up at him. You took in his face, the bright red of his eyes, the way his hair fell softly over his forehead and you couldn’t help but feel entranced. His hand lifted as if on it’s own accord and he searched your eyes carefully.

“May I?” His voice was deep as he spoke and you gave him a weary nod, jolting at the current that ran through your body as his cold hand made contact with your cheek, running his thumb across your cheekbone. You let out a breathe you had no idea you were holding and melted into him as he pulled you into him.

“I have finally found you.”

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You smiled at the memory, watching the scenery blur by the window of the car. For once you felt at ease, as if everything was perfect.

That was how you knew, you were exactly where you needed to be. You knew it all too well.

ʚɞ

[missmeinyourbones]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO 

cw: angsty fluff? is that a thing? light mentions of alcohol and weed, suna is drunk and silly, reader is designated driver (drink safely, my friends!!!), heavy mutual pining, inspired by that normal people scene (brothers...iykyk)

For a midsummer night, the breeze outside is surprisingly chilly. 

Feeling more like September than July, your car window is barely cracked to let a bit of air inside the small stuffy vehicle. 

The streets are barren as you drive through the backroads of your hometown—which is expected, as no one sane tends to willingly drive at 1:31 AM. Not unless they received a brief text from a blonde-haired setter asking you to handle a “liability” for him.  

Equally intrigued as you were annoyed, you agreed to his weird request and he dropped a pin to his location almost instantly. 

You remember him talking about some lowkey Inarizaki reunion this weekend—just like the old days, shitty booze in someone’s parent’s basement and cheap weed from the town’s local plug. Pro-volleyball players and all, you suppose some things never change. 

With the lack of details Atsumu gave you, you don’t know what to expect as you drive to the marker on your GPS.

Seeing how he was cognizant enough to text you, you doubt he’s the one in need of assistance. It’s unlike Osamu to get belligerent enough to leave a party early, so he’s pretty much ruled out of your list of suspects, too. And hell would freeze over the day you see Kita drunk enough to need a designated driver. 

So pulling up to the address and seeing a familiar headache comically slumped on the front steps of the porch, you don't know why you ever dared to be curious. 

When you see him, you think he’s sleeping. It’s not until you park the car and make your way towards his slumped frame that you can confirm; even while his eyes are closed and he’s not necessarily awake, Suna is very much not asleep. 

Nothing but an unruly mop of brunette slightly sways as he bobs his head from side to side, almost like he’s following along with a one-sided conversation in his thoughts. He’s alone, aside from a few discarded beer cans and the diluted thumping of the music from inside. 

The anxiety inside of you can’t help from asking, "Did they just leave you here?" 

You don’t expect an answer from him—more so thinking out loud at the brute stupidity and lack of safety from the whole situation. You make a mental note to scold Atsumu for his critical thinking skills the next time you see him. 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Suna notices you walking toward him. Wrapped in a sweatshirt nearly swallowing you whole, he grins brightly. Your genuine concern paired with your silly choice of apparel somehow fits the situation nicely, he decides. 

"Nah," he slowly shakes his head. Through squinted eyes, he hazily meets your gaze with a teasing smile, "They told me to sit and stay, like a good boy."

You don’t know why his words light a fire in your stomach, and even more alarmingly, you don’t know why you don’t hate it. You can’t help but laugh a bit at his drunken words.

Nodding your head to where he (somehow) comfortably sits on the concrete stairs, you hum in agreement. 

"I’m surprised you actually listened," you exhale.  

The summer breeze blows once more, and while it makes you shiver, Suna finds it refreshing compared to the stuffy confines of someone’s childhood basement.

He shrugs lazily as he presses his palms onto the porch, slowly bracing himself to stand.

"Only ‘cause I knew you were already on your way," he tries to play it off casually, like his insides weren't churning with acidic excitement to see you tonight. “More scared of you than I am of them."

He’s always been an honest drunk, more deadpan and blunt than his usual reserved facade. You bite your tongue at the pride that swells in your chest with the honesty of his remark.

"Good.”

As he stands, Suna stumbles slightly against the wooden railing of the deck, leaving you rushing to his side to support his stupor. He giggles at his own lack of awareness before regaining his composure, using the railing for support as he mumbles out a sleepy “M’fine.” 

Not fully believing him, you let your hands linger a bit by his side, not quite touching him but still close enough to be prepared for another tumble. 

Suna takes a deep breath to sober himself and opens his eyes to face you. He stares at you for a moment or two, eyes flickering through your features as he struggles to decide which one to focus on. The way your cupid’s bow scrunches in thought. How your pupils dilate with the lack of light. The stray piece of hair blown over your eyes and resting in the middle of your forehead. 

It’s beautiful, he thinks. All of it. How easily breathtaking you can be on a chilly summer’s night, in an empty street, wearing a giant sweater, with a man who is irrevocably in love with you.

But, he knows he’s too drunk to be thinking like this.

He closes his eyes once more, grounding himself with the crisp inhale. 

"It feels like the sidewalk is moving."

He hears your laughter and immediately opens his eyes again to see it—and, oh, he adores the sight. Flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes, he completely soaks in the moment of you entertaining his terribly lame joke. He’d take a moment to thank the stars watching above, but he doesn’t dare to look away for a second.

"I promise you, it’s not," you whisper, once again supporting his side and beginning the so-close but so-far-away walk back to your car. “How much did you even have to drink?”

His head plops onto your shoulder, “Never ask a man how much he’s had to drink. Weren’t you ever taught that?”

You scoff and he wants to kiss you, wants to taste it on his tongue and savor it forever. But he can barely lift his head, so he chooses to ignore the overwhelming urge. 

Before he knows it, as if his feet were moving on their own, he's leaning up against the passenger side of your car.

“I don’t consider you a man,” your voice calls his attention back to reality, “I consider you a nuisance.”

He hums at your words, again finding his drunk gaze unable to be pulled away from you. Leaning against your car, he giddily smiles at seemingly nothing at all.

When you're about to usher him into the passenger seat, he speaks up, and it's not what you expect. Eyes still lost in yours, he wonders.

"Do I still have pupils?"

The question catches you off guard, has you shaking your head in disbelief and adoration at the nuisance before you. His eyes bore into yours, pupils still intact and practically shaped like hearts as he awaits your answer.

"Yeah," you reply. "They're about the size of saucers right now, but yes, you have pupils."

"S'fine,” Suna, as sleepy as he is, doesn't miss a beat. “They always get like that when I see you, anyways."

And something is suddenly different. In the streetlights illuminating from above, the moment turns intimate like the magnetic flip of a coin.

His words aren't flirty or teasing, they're genuine. Pure. His gaze leaves little room to argue with the fact that while he’s dizzy and mumbling and not nearly in the right state of mind, he’s honest, nonetheless.

And it feels wrong to take advantage of that.

“Okay,” you softly decide, opening the door and gently ushering his lanky body beneath its roof, “let’s go.” 

He complies without restraint, lets you cover his head when it nearly skims the roof and buckle him in with caution. He rests his cheek against the cool window for the entire way to his apartment. It’s a quick drive, and you learn that Suna looks just as pretty illuminated in the red lights as he does in the green ones. 

When your car is parked and his apartment complex taunts you from across the street, you call his name. 

“Suna?”

“...”

“Rintaro?”

“Hmmph?”

Your hand is gentle on his shoulder, a featherlight weight to let him know you’ve arrived. And he knows—in fact, he was awake the whole drive. Watching the moon follow your car and relishing in the smell of your perfume invading his senses. 

He feels you tap his shoulder again, “Do you need help getting out?”

“Y’know,” he turns his head to lazily send you a smile, “you shouldn’t try and get your hands on a man when he’s drunk.”

Your palm sweats against the steering wheel. He’s so infuriating and you want to kiss him—two things you’ve officially decided are not mutually exclusive. You choose to fight off a grin, instead. 

“Well, you don’t usually need help getting out of the car when you're sober.”

“Yeah, but even if I was sober, I’d still want y’to touch me.” 

The coin flips again. Words that are usually meant to be dirty or promiscuous are pouring out from his soul and directly into your heart. He means them, and both of you know it.

Something inside of you aches to grab his hand, so you do. You scratch the inevitable itch and hold his palm in yours. He lets you with ease, even squeezing it for good measure as he delicately plays with your fingers. 

You squeeze his hand right back, and he knows it's saying all the things you can't right now. 

With a warm belly, you smile softly, “Go to bed, Rintaro.”

Hearts in his eyes, he nods and opens the door. He leaves your car and crosses the street with a newfound caution to get home safely. Because he knows that while tomorrow inevitably will come, tonight—that feeling in your car—can never be taken from him. 

On the elevator ride up to his apartment, he can’t help but flex the hand in his pocket—the one that squeezed yours a few moments ago. 

Still trying to relish in the faint feeling of your skin on his, Suna begs himself not to be a coward when he’s sober in the morning.

[wanderersbell]

lost and found

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff, modern!au

warnings: none

word count: 4444

✧.* when a lost cat drags in your very snarky and attractive apartment neighbor, you end up with a bit more than you bargained for.

for the modern au writing event at @yae-publishing-house

it’s nearly the middle of the night when you see her for the first time - a little white cat huddled up by the staircase of your apartment building. your feet are aching from running around all day and your knees are on the brink of giving out from exhaustion, but you don’t even hesitate to approach her and crouch down to get closer the moment you take notice. 

she chirps in surprise and stands up to greet you right away, brushing her cold pink nose against your hand and dragging her body against you affectionately with her tail twitching happily in the air. 

“aww, sweet girl,” you whisper in a soft voice while scratching lightly around her ears. “aren’t you cold out here?”

the cat of course does not understand this, but she still meows once you finish talking before bumping her head against your hand in response. her fur is lightly covered in dirt and dust from being outdoors and she isn’t wearing a collar which would normally indicate a stray, but she’s so friendly that you can’t help but gnaw your lip in worry. 

it’s not abnormal to see homeless cats in the area, and all of which are well taken care of by the people in the neighborhood, but what if she’s somebody’s lost pet? what if she hasn’t eaten in days and nobody has seen or fed her?

these thoughts are what have you ignoring the pain in your legs and jogging to the convenience store a few blocks away to pick up some cans of wet food. thanks to it being ridiculously late on a tuesday night the building is entirely empty aside from the cashier, so in record time you’re able to secure the goods and return to the little white cat that’s still waiting patiently under the concrete steps where you left her. 

as soon as the lid is off the can she’s circling around your feet and meowing so you’re quick to set it down and let her at it. just as you had feared, she scarfs it down in under a minute before turning to you with her big green eyes like she’s asking for more. she probably hadn’t eaten for a while, and your chest flutters with anxiety about what to do in this situation. 

animals aren’t allowed in this complex, so if she’s a pet she’s likely from the neighborhood nearby and ended up here after escaping her house. surely they have some sort of community group where everyone in the area can report things like porch thefts and lost animals, so you take your phone out to snap a few pictures of her while she continues to lazily brush against your legs. 

“i’m sorry i can’t bring you inside,” you say to her sadly, slipping off your jacket to fold up and place under the steps for her to lay on. “i’ll make sure people know you’re missing, so stay here okay? i’ll bring you food again tomorrow.”

she once again meows very politely when you finish, and it takes everything in you to start walking up the stairs to your door and leave her behind knowing she’s stuck out here in the cold all night. when you finally get inside and kick your shoes off the first thing you do is download a neighborhood forum app and make a missing animal report, and it’s only seconds after that when you flop down on your bed and are out like a light. 

the next morning, she isn’t there. 

your jacket is still where you left it and covered in white fur from her laying on it, but the cat herself is nowhere to be found. you still leave an open can of food for her anyways, but the rest of the day while you’re out all you can think about is whether or not she’s safe and if you’ll ever see her again. 

nobody has responded to the report you made last night yet, not even a single like left on the post despite the page having gotten multiple views, and you’re tempted to post in a few other neighborhoods nearby by decide to hold off and see if she comes back before jumping the gun. 

later that night when you finally return, she’s curled up on your jacket under the stairs again. a tidal wave of relief rushes through you as you reach into your bag to pull out a can of food and peel the lid off. 

alerted by the sound, the little white cats’ head shoots up and she’s already padding her way over to you before her eyes have even fully focused on the source of the noise. when she realizes it’s you, a series of delighted trills leave her throat and it takes everything in you not to scoop her up into your arms and baby her. 

you sit with her for a bit longer after she finishes eating before bidding her goodnight and reminding her to stay put until tomorrow. 

it’s only minutes after you’ve fled the scene that someone else who had also taken up the task of looking out for this cat for the time being approaches the stairs and clicks their tongue in annoyance at the sight of an empty can of food. 

when tomorrow comes around, if she’s still there and nobody has responded to your post, you make an oath to yourself that you’ll sneak her inside and risk the consequences of doing so. it’s certainly more trouble than it’s worth, but you can’t sleep knowing she’s out there all by herself and the fleeting thought of her being taken by someone else and stuck in a shelter fills you with dread throughout the night. 

she’s not there in the morning again, but you still leave an open can out for her like yesterday and have a little more confidence this time that she’ll still be waiting under the stairs when the day is over. 

as expected, the sight that greets you as the moon hangs high in the sky when you finally reach the entrance to your complex is a sound asleep bundle of white fur on a jacket. 

tonight is the night that you’ll take her up to your apartment and look after her, but you decide to let her eat first while you think up a backup plan in case picking her up and carrying her won’t work. a small smile sits on your face as you kneel next to her and watch her eat, lazily scratching up and down her back while she purrs between each bite. 

“so you’re the one who’s been feeding my cat.” a male’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you. 

you jump at the sound and snap your head around to face the source, the white feline slipping away from your hand to slink over to the person who spoke and meow at his feet expectantly. about ten feet away, with his arms crossed over his chest, stands the most attractive guy you have ever seen in your life. 

the first thing you notice is his eyes - a vivid violet ocean encapsulated in his irises as he glares down at your hunched form. there’s a small amount of bright red eyeliner smudged under his waterline in a tiny wing that perfectly compliments his complexion and distracts you so much that you almost don’t see the two black rings in his bottom lip, to which your stomach does a little flip upon noticing. cropped indigo hair frames his face delicately, a sharp contrast against his ivory skin that looks soft and unblemished from where you’re crouching. 

when you finally recover from how unfairly gorgeous he is and process his words, your brows crease together in a frown. 

“your cat?” you can only watch helplessly as the white feline stretches up on her back legs and balances herself against his shins until he reaches down and scoops her up. 

“yeah, obviously.” his tone is sarcastic as he gestures to the animal in his arms with a nod. 

“then why does your cat live outside?” when you finally push yourself to your feet you realize he’s no taller than you are, standing at perfect eye level as you regard him with a suspicious look. 

what kind of terrible person leaves their pet outside? it’s clear to you that he’s bullshitting and the cat isn’t really his, but if he’s so keen on being a jerk about it then he can have the same energy in return. 

he purses his lips (curse those metal rings glinting under the fluorescent stair lights) and tilts his head back in a mocking manner. “she’s mine because she likes me the most.” 

we’ll see about that.

“c’mere kitty, pspspsps.” at the sound of your voice the cat squirms out of his hold and pads over to you with a series of sweet little meows. the smug look you send him as you lean down to scratch her ears has his jaw visibly clenching with irritation. 

“also, what’s so wrong with me feeding your cat?” you continue. “shouldn’t you be grateful?”

“grateful? she’s going to end up fat if we both feed her.” the man huffs. 

“okay? so then stop feeding her.”

“no,” he retorts. “you stop feeding her. i was doing it first.”

“well that’s a shame. what do you want me to do about it? shall we take turns?” your tone is heavily sarcastic as you suggest this, and you’re positive that if looks could kill you’d be six feet under by now. 

“what, like divorced parents? isn’t that always rough on the kids?” he counters and shakes his head. “she deserves better so just let me handle it.”

you look him up and down suspiciously, trying your best to ignore how hot he is. “why should i? i don’t know you.”

“are you-“ he releases an aggrieved sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “fine, then let her choose.”

the cat, who’s sitting patiently watching you both exchange heated remarks, doesn't move a muscle. thirty tense seconds pass while she just looks between you and him with mild confusion, her tail flicking softly behind her until she gets bored and slinks off to go curl up on your discarded jacket, leaving the two of you standing in defeat. 

“just let me take her inside.” you sigh, too tired to keep this up. 

the man looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “inside? are you crazy? we aren’t allowed to have pets.”

“okay, and?” you shrug. “you’re telling me that wasn’t also your plan?”

his eyes close and he seems to be contemplating something for a few seconds before speaking up again. 

“one more night.”

“what?”

“one more night and if she chooses you tomorrow, i won’t argue.” he explains carefully, red lined violet eyes watching you closely. “but if she picks me, i’m taking her instead.”

reluctant to agree but unwilling to back down, you give a short nod and the deal is set. you both turn away at the same time without another word. 

the next day, as the two of you meet under the stairwell at the same time and the tiny white cat beelines past you towards the man who wears a grin so smug it has your hands clenching into fists in irritation. 

“have you even had a cat before?” you begin interrogating him, failing at trying not to be jealous over the whole thing. “do you even have everything you need? do you have electrical wires hidden and things she could eat and choke on picked up?”

he looks like he wants to argue, but instead shuts his mouth in a thin line and turns his head the other way, bangs falling into his eyes with the action.  

“…no.”

with a defeated groan you drop your head into your hands and heave a large sigh.“we’re going to the store then. you need a litter box so she needs to stay out here until you do.”

“wait- we’re going to the store?” he asks, clearly against the idea of you tagging along. “why can’t i-“

“c’mon.” he pauses when you turn on your heel to start walking the other way, leaving him momentarily perplexed while staring after your retreating form. 

there’s a place open for another hour down the road that should have everything you need, and you’re determined to not let the cat sleep out in the for cold another night so even though you can’t stand this guy, you may as well do it for her. 

after swearing under his breath the man speed walks to catch up to you. the walk there is completely silent and neither of you acknowledges each other once, but once you walk through the sliding doors into the building you look over at him and wait until he meets your eyes. 

“i’ll grab the litter, you grab the food. it’s that way.” you say while pointing to the isle. without another word, you take off towards your destination and spend a few minutes checking prices on different brands. 

it’s not long before the man returns to your side with a small bag in his hand and you realize a little too late that of course he would have no idea which kind of food to pick. 

“put that back,” you tell him while grabbing a case of litter. 

“what? why?” he asks sharply, looking slightly offended. 

“that brand is bad for them.” you explain while following hin back to the food isle. he’s visibly vexed as he trails after you. 

“if it’s bad for them then why would they sell it?” the man deadpans.  

“good question. here, grab this one.”

silently, he takes the bag from you and you lead him down a few other isles to grab things like food and water dishes and a small pack of mouse toys with bells before taking everything to self checkout. he’s strangely quiet the entire time, just letting you do your thing after having no choice but to accept that he knows nothing on the matter, and you can’t help but find it a bit endearing. 

when you scan the items, the man hovers behind you silently until you  pull out your wallet to pay. he rudely shoves you aside with his shoulder and swipes his card before you can even begin to protest, but anything you were about to say dissipates into thin air and is replaced upon seeing the name on his card. 

“kunikuzushi?” you ask with mild surprise, reading the letters out loud. 

the man’s shoulder tense up at the sound of his name coming from your lips but he’s quick to recover and clicks his tongue. 

“don’t call me that.” he grumbles, typing in his pin with a little more force than necessary. despite his irritation expression, there’s a hint of amusement in the way he speaks that makes you think he truly is just putting up an act. 

you watch him for a few beats to figure out if he’s serious or not before humming and nodding like you’ve just come to a conclusion. 

“kuni it is then.”

kuni snaps his head around to glare at you, but the pink flush that stains the tips of his ears and cheekbones gives him away. “don’t call me that either.”

you give him an innocent smile and reach around him to grab the receipt and bag before heading to the exit, not bothering to wait and see if he follows. as expected, his footsteps approach from behind. 

“cant believe i’m stuck living in the same complex as you.” kuni hisses under his breath when he catches up. you find yourself staring at his lip rings for a moment before ripping your eyes away. 

“speaking of that,” you start to say, completely ignoring his prior words. “how long have you lived there? why haven’t i seen you before?”

kuni looks like he’d rather not answer, huffing an exasperated sigh. “around five months now.”

he won’t tell you much, but you force a little more small talk out of him until the two of you finally arrive back at the complex and scoop up the cat to bring her inside. she doesn’t make a sound once on the way up, and you can’t help but thank her silently for keeping quiet since you’re definitely not supposed to be doing this. 

when you step inside, kuni’s apartment is clean and organized and dark just as you had expected. the walls are almost completely bare save for a few band posters and the only things decorating the small living room are a black leather couch and a tv on a simple glass stand. it takes no time at all to set things up while the white cat sniffs around the house and takes in her new surroundings. 

the litter box gets tucked into a corner of the bathroom, the food and water dishes set on a mat by the kitchen counter, and a few toys are laid out around the place where she can bat them around as she pleases. 

“you have to let me come visit whenever i want.” you demand when you’re finally being shooed out of the front door by him. 

“what? absolutely not.” kuni snaps, turning back to give you an offended look. 

“you have to! wouldn’t she be sad if she never saw me again? divorced parents both still get to see the kids.” you insist with full seriousness. 

kuni watches you quietly, absentmindedly moving his lip rings back and forth with his tongue before sighing in defeat. 

“fine, whatever.” he concedes. you’re about to pump your fist in delight, but he stops you to finish. “you can visit once a month.”

“one a week.” 

“no.” he argues. 

“please.” 

your begging seems to do the trick, because kuni’s shoulders quickly drop in defeat when you look up at him with pleading eyes. “are you serio- fine. once a week.” he grumbles. “just get out now, it’s late.”

and so, because you’re fairly certain he’ll let you get away with it, you start showing up every night to see her. 

kuni acts like it’s the biggest inconvenience ever when you turn up at his door every time after that, but he never denies you entry, begrudgingly stepping aside and letting you coddle the little white cat that lives with him. 

you tell him about your day even if he insists he doesn’t care, and still listens intently and tells you about his when you ask in return. you learn more about him this way. he won’t tell you exactly what his job is, only that he works from home and occasionally takes small trips to collect something from people. it’s vague and makes no sense to you, but you don’t pry more than that. 

he’ll sit on the couch while you kneel on the floor and throw her toys around, watching you laugh and fawn over her until he eventually kicks you out. 

you discover that he’s actually incredibly easy to get along with, nowhere near as cold and unapproachable as he looks at first sight. he’s attentive and clever and loves nothing more than to laugh at your expense, but you find that you don’t mind letting him if it means you get to see the frown slip off of his face, even if just for a moment. 

this little routine continues for almost an entire month before one night, kuni shoves his phone in your face with a grim expression. after pushing it away a bit to actually be able to see the screen, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach. 

it’s a missing pet post, with images of the little white cat attached. 

after reading a bit, the situation becomes clear. her family had gone on vacation and hired someone to watch her, but that person let her escape and never said a word about it. her family didn't find out until they returned to her being gone, and were now clearly frantically searching for her and hoping she was still alive. 

“oh no,” you whisper sadly, looking towards the feline who’s happily curled up on the couch. when you meet kuni’s eyes, he almost looks a bit torn. 

“i’m calling them tomorrow.” he informs you bluntly. 

“wait, but-“ you start, trying to ignore the stinging burn of tears that threaten to fill your eyes. seeing the cat, seeing him, has become something to look forward to in the last month. the thought of seeing her go has a lump forming in your throat, bringing with it the selfish urge to keep her for yourself instead of doing the right thing and taking her back. 

“her family needs her. she needs to go home.” kuni says in a way that shows he’s trying his best to be sympathetic. 

even though he seems fine for the most part, there’s no way he isn’t going to miss her. he took the risk of letting her stay with him, and went out of his way to make sure she was comfortable and well taken care of. 

“i know, you’re right. i just…” you trail off quietly, fingernails digging into your palms. 

kuni meets your eyes, and a moment of silent understanding rushes between you like a heavy current. 

“i know.”

the next day, she gets returned to her very relieved family. kuni takes care of it since you’re not home, and then a  week passes by, as slow and miserable as ever. you have no reason to go over to kuni’s apartment anymore, so you haven’t spoken to him since, and every night you go straight to your own place and spend the evenings by yourself. 

it’s impossible not to miss the sweet little cat, the pleasant trill of her meows and the softness of her sides rubbing against your legs. 

but it’s even more impossible not to miss kuni. the way he always waited for you to stop talking before he answered, the way he would open and close the door for you even while telling you to get out of his hair, the sound of his stifled laughter when you would trip over a cat toy or mess up your words. 

one night, when you come home late as per usual, kuni is sitting at the bottom of the stairs appearing bored out of his mind. you don’t even notice him at first, but when you do your whole body freezes in fear until you realize who it is. 

“you scared me!” you accuse sharply, slightly irked by the unapologetic look on his face. 

he’s as attractive as ever, his red lined eyes creased together in amusement as he watches you gather your bearings. it may just be a trick of the light, but kuni seems almost nervous as he stands up and approaches you. 

“did you eat dinner?” he asks while shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to another. 

“um,” you respond intelligently, willing your eyes not to stray away to his lip rings. “no?”

he clicks his tongue and turns to start climbing up the stairs. “then come on.”

you follow after him wordlessly, having an internal battle the whole way up over whether or not he just asked you out or if you’re reading way too much into this. 

why was he even waiting for you tonight? he barely managed to put up with you whenever you came to pester him and the cat, so there’s no way he’s actually interested in you… right?

“you eat meat, yeah?” kuni asks as he opens the door for you and waits for you to step inside. his apartment is the same as you remember, the only difference being one less cat and a navy throw blanket folded over the back of the couch. 

brushing off the way it makes your heart twinge sadly, you take off your shoes and nod. “yeah, i do.”

“good.”

in the next thirty minutes of comfortable silence that pass, you find yourself sitting on the couch and helplessly watching as kuni moves around the kitchen and prepares something with practiced ease. the sleeves of his sweatshirt are rolled up to his elbows as he works, showing off his pale forearms in an all too distracting way. 

his bangs keep falling into his eyes and every time he tries to blow them out of the way you have to fight back a smile. his hair was a bit shorter when you had first met, so he must be due for a haircut by now. 

it’s strange to think that in the last month you had managed to become so fond of this grumpy stranger who nearly tried to fight you over a lost cat, but there’s no denying the way your heart rate picks up when he glances over and catches you staring every now and then. 

as the delicious smell of stir fry fills the place and your mouth water uncontrollably, you make your way over to the small dining table and take a seat at one of the chairs. kuni carries two plates over and places them down before sitting opposite of you. 

“sooo,” you finally break the silence. “what’s all this about?”

“eat.” kuni ignores you, gesturing to your plate with his fork. 

“but i-“

“eat.” he repeats himself, a bit louder than last time. his violet eyes narrow in your direction when you raise a teasing brow at him. 

“fine.” you huff. when you stab some of the food with your fork and shovel it into your mouth, you can’t stop the shock that spreads over your face as the flavor hits your tongue. 

“it’s good!” you gush in genuine surprise. you never would have thought he was good at cooking. 

“of course it is.” kuni says proudly, finally digging into his own portion. he gives a small satisfactory hum as he chews, and you feel your heart twinge again - this time for another reason entirely. 

“come over again for dinner tomorrow.” he says with no room for negotiation before taking another bite and avoiding your eyes. the tips of his ears are visibly pink despite the low light and you agree easily with a muffled laugh. 

“why are you looking at me like that?” kuni asks suspiciously after he swallows his mouthful, realizing you’ve been watching him a few moments later. 

you smile knowingly and look away. “no reason.”

it seems that as fate would have it, finding that little lost white cat was only the beginning.