(no subject)

[no_sin_but]

Marlowe had been going to have a shower, because being clean was never, ever going to get old, but that than that dizziness had struck and he'd sat down, sharply, head in his hands, so when he turns into a cat, that's where his clothes are.

Yes, a cat. Long-haired, four-pawed, and he isn't sure which is worse - the tail, or the fact that he has both eyes. His balance is off.

Very, very off.

Give him sometime, and he'll be scratching at the door. Oh, yes, he will. For now, he's just going to sit there and feel very, very off-balance.

Not to mention very, very confused.

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[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

And then he is scooped up, nestled against Darren's chest and arm, placed comfortably in the crook and Darren climbs to his feet and toes the bathroom door open, taking them out into the main room. And the best part about it there's lots of places on a cat that really enjoy scritching. So it's a very simple matter to switch from behind the ear to under the chin, while he walks, to forestall complaint.

"I wonder if you've been fed."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

Oh, food. He thinks he heard that word, but it's hard to hear over his own purring.

If Darren stops, Kit is going to be a very unhappy cat.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

Darren doesn't stop. He grabs a book and settles down into bed, cat on his chest, book over him, and (with practiced skill) manages to both keep the cat purring and flip pages occasionally.

All in all, a rather nice evening.