Four Days Later
I'm walking back from the grocery store when I hear it.
A tiny, pathetic mewing sound coming from the alley beside our building.
I stop, listening.
There it is again. Quieter this time. Almost desperate.
I shouldn't investigate. I have ice cream in my bag that's going to melt if I don't get upstairs soon.
But the sound comes again and I find myself moving toward it anyway.
The alley is narrow and not particularly clean, but there—tucked between two trash bins—is a small cardboard box.
And inside the box is the tiniest kitten I've ever seen.
Gray and white, with enormous blue eyes that look up at me with what I can only describe as accusatory hope. Like it's saying finally, where have you been?
"Oh," I breathe, setting down my grocery bag and kneeling beside the box.
The kitten mews again, louder this time.
I reach in carefully and the kitten immediately climbs onto my hand, all sharp tiny claws and soft fur and desperate purring.
"Hi," I whisper. "Hi, little one. Are you all alone out here?"
The kitten just purrs louder, pressing its face against my palm.
I look around the alley but there's no sign of other kittens or a mother cat. Just this one tiny thing, clearly abandoned.
"Okay," I say, making a decision I'll probably regret. "Okay, you're coming with me."
I tuck the kitten carefully inside my jacket—it immediately burrows against my chest, still purring—and grab my grocery bag.
The ice cream is definitely going to melt.
---
Keith is in the kitchen when I get upstairs, and he looks up when I enter.
"You took a while. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, I just—" I pause, trying to figure out how to explain. "I found something."
"Found something?"
I carefully unzip my jacket and the kitten's head pops out, blinking up at Keith with those enormous eyes.
Keith's entire face lights up. "Oh my god. Is that a kitten?"
"I found her in the alley. She was alone and I couldn't just leave her there."
"Her?"
"I think so? I haven't actually checked yet." I lift the kitten out of my jacket, cradling her carefully. "She's so small."
Keith moves closer, his hand hovering uncertainly. "Can I?"
"Yeah."
He gently pets the kitten's head with one finger and she immediately tries to climb up his arm, mewing loudly.
"She's so tiny," Keith says, his voice doing that soft thing it does when he's trying not to be overwhelmed by cuteness. "What are you going to do with her?"
"I... I want to keep her. If that's okay." I look up at him. "I know it's your apartment and I should have asked first but—"
"Cecil." Keith's expression is impossibly fond. "Of course it's okay. This is your home too. You don't need permission to bring home a kitten."
Relief floods through me. "Really?"
"Really. Though we should probably take her to a vet. Make sure she's healthy."
"Yeah. I can do that tomorrow."
Dylan appears in the kitchen doorway, drawn by our voices. He takes one look at the kitten and raises an eyebrow.
"We have a cat now?"
"Cecil found her in the alley," Keith explains.
Dylan moves closer, examining the kitten with his usual analytical attention. "She's malnourished. Probably only a few weeks old. We'll need kitten formula, a heating pad, specialized food—"
"I'll get everything," I say quickly. "I can go to the pet store right now."
"We'll all go," Dylan decides. "She needs supplies immediately."
The kitten chooses that moment to climb from my arms onto my shoulder, where she perches precariously and mews directly into my ear.
I can't help but smile.
"What are you going to name her?" Keith asks.
I look at the tiny ball of fluff on my shoulder, at her gray and white fur and her enormous eyes. She's so delicate, so small and perfect.
"Lily," I say. "Her name is Lily."
---
The pet store trip takes two hours because Dylan insists on researching every single product before we buy it.
We end up with: kitten formula, bottles, a heating pad, a bed, toys, a litter box, specialized kitten food, a carrier, and approximately seventeen other things that Dylan declares "essential."
Keith just smiles and pays for everything without complaint.
Lily stays tucked inside my jacket the entire time, occasionally poking her head out to observe her new kingdom.
By the time we get home, my arms are full of supplies and my heart is uncomfortably full of affection for this tiny creature.
Dylan sets up the heating pad and bed in my room while Keith sterilizes the bottles.
I try to feed Lily the formula, following the instructions Dylan read aloud, and she latches on immediately—purring so hard she sounds like a tiny motor.
"She's starving," Dylan observes, watching with that focused attention he gets. "When did you find her?"
"About three hours ago."
"She was probably out there all night. Maybe longer." He reaches out to gently stroke her back while she eats. "Good thing you found her when you did."
Something warm settles in my chest at his words.
I saved her.
This tiny, helpless thing was alone and scared and now she's here, safe and warm and eating.
I saved her.
The thought is more powerful than it should be.
---
Lily falls asleep immediately after eating, curled up on the heating pad in her new bed.
I sit beside her, watching her tiny chest rise and fall.
"You okay?" Keith asks from the doorway.
"Yeah. Just... watching her."
He comes to sit beside me. "She's lucky you found her."
"I'm lucky I found her," I correct quietly.
Keith doesn't ask what I mean. He just puts his arm around my shoulders and we sit there together, watching Lily sleep.
Dylan appears a while later with a bottle of water and some food for me—apparently I forgot to eat in all the excitement.
"The ice cream melted," he says, handing me a sandwich. "But I made you this instead."
"Thank you."
He settles on my other side and we sit there, all three of us, watching the kitten sleep like it's the most fascinating thing in the world.
"She's going to be spoiled rotten," Keith predicts.
"Absolutely," Dylan agrees.
I smile, taking a bite of the sandwich.
Lily makes a tiny squeaking sound in her sleep and my smile widens.
Yeah. She's going to be very spoiled.
And I'm going to love every second of it.
---
Two Days Later
I wake up to Lily mewing.
It's barely six AM but she's hungry and she lets me know with the kind of volume that shouldn't be possible from something so small.
"Okay, okay," I mumble, stumbling out of bed. "I'm coming."
I warm up the formula and feed her, watching as she attacks the bottle with enthusiasm.
The vet visit yesterday confirmed she's healthy—just malnourished and in need of care. They estimated she's about four weeks old.
Four weeks. She's practically a baby.
The thought makes me hold her a little more carefully.
After she eats, she wants to play. Of course she does. It's six AM and she's full of energy.
I pull out one of the toy mice we bought and drag it across the floor. Lily pounces on it immediately, her tiny paws attacking the toy with fierce determination.
I'm so focused on playing with her that I don't notice Keith in the doorway until he speaks.
"Morning."
I look up. He's standing there in pajama pants and a t-shirt, his hair doing that thing where it sticks up in every direction.
"Morning. Sorry, did we wake you?"
"No, I was already up." He moves into the room, sitting beside me on the floor. "Can I play with her?"
"Yeah, of course."
Keith takes over dragging the mouse and Lily immediately switches her attention to him, pouncing and rolling and generally being adorable.
I watch them play, something warm and content settling in my chest.
This is nice.
This quiet morning moment, watching Keith play with Lily, the early light coming through the window.
This is really nice.
---
The pattern continues over the next few days.
I feed Lily every few hours. Play with her. Let her sleep on my chest while I read. Talk to her about nothing and everything.
She follows me around the apartment when she's awake, her tiny paws pattering on the hardwood floors.
She's obsessed with shoelaces and will attack any that come within reach.
She's figured out how to climb onto the couch but not how to get down, so she just sits there and yells until someone rescues her.
She purrs constantly—a sound so loud it seems impossible that it's coming from something so small.
And I'm completely, utterly in love with her.
I don't realize how much time I'm spending with Lily until Keith makes a comment over breakfast.
"So, Lily's pretty great, huh?"
"Yeah," I say, not looking up from where Lily is trying to steal my toast. "She's perfect."
"You two are always together."
"She's a baby. She needs constant care."
"Right." Keith's voice has a strange quality to it that makes me look up.
He's watching me with an expression I can't quite read.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing. Just observing."
Dylan, who's been reading something on his phone, looks up. "You spent three hours with her yesterday afternoon."
"She needed to be fed and played with and—"
"We tried to watch a movie with you and you said you couldn't because Lily needed attention," Keith adds.
Oh.
Oh no.
Are they...?
"Are you jealous of a kitten?" I ask slowly.
"No," Keith says immediately.
"Maybe a little," Dylan admits at the same time.
Keith shoots him a look. "Dyl."
"What? We are. She gets more cuddles than we do now."
I stare at them. "You're jealous. Of Lily. Who is a four-week-old kitten."
"When you say it like that it sounds ridiculous," Keith mutters.
"That's because it is ridiculous!"
"Is it though?" Dylan sets down his phone, giving me his full attention. "You used to sit with us in the evenings. Now you sit in your room with Lily."
"Because she's a baby who needs—"
"Constant attention, we know." Keith leans forward. "We're not saying you shouldn't take care of her. We're just saying we miss you."
The words hit me unexpectedly.
They miss me.
I've been so focused on Lily—on having something small and helpless that needs me, that depends on me—that I didn't notice I was pulling away from Keith and Dylan.
"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I didn't realize."
"Don't apologize," Dylan says. "We understand. Lily needs you right now. We just wanted you to know that we're here too. When you have time."
There's no accusation in his voice. No demand. Just a quiet statement of fact.
They're here. They miss me. They want my attention too.
Lily chooses that moment to successfully steal a piece of my toast and run away with it, her tail held high in victory.
All three of us watch her go.
"She's very determined," Dylan observes.
"She gets it from you," Keith says, looking at me.
"I'm not determined, I'm just—"
"Stubborn. Focused. Completely committed once you decide you care about something." Keith's smile is soft. "Yeah. She definitely gets it from you."
My face warms.
"I'll make more time," I promise. "For both of you. Lily can nap by herself sometimes."
"We'd like that," Dylan says simply.
Keith nods. "We would."
Lily returns, having finished the stolen toast, and jumps onto my lap with her characteristic lack of grace.
She settles immediately, purring loudly.
"Though maybe she can join us sometimes," Keith suggests, reaching over to pet her. "She's pretty cute."
"Very cute," Dylan agrees, his hand joining Keith's in petting Lily.
And I sit there, between them, with Lily purring on my lap and both of them giving her attention.
This is good.
This is really good.
All of us together.
Including the tiny kitten who accidentally became the perfect revenge I never meant to actually take.