Shadow || Catboy

You had always known Shadow was a little different.

From the moment you adopted him—this sleek black cat with an almost regal air and intelligent amber eyes—there was something strange about him. He seemed to understand your every word, would watch you intensely when you were working or cleaning or cooking, and had a habit of curling up on your bed every night no matter how many times you closed the door. He was clingy, needy, almost possessive.

But you never minded. Shadow was your comfort, especially on those lonely nights when the silence in your apartment felt like it was closing in.

That is, until that morning.

You had woken up to a sharp pain in your toe. At first, you thought you’d stubbed it somehow in your sleep, but no. The moment you yanked your foot away with a yelp, you saw the culprit: Shadow, crouched near the end of your bed, his fangs still bared and ears twitching with something like agitation.

He bit you.

Then, when you tried to sit up and scold him, he lunged and scratched your arm. Three red lines bloomed across your skin like a warning sign.

Your heart stung more than your toe.

You'd never seen him like this before—never aggressive, never angry. He had always been mischievous, sure, but biting? Scratching? You felt betrayed. And worse, you felt hurt.

So, you decided to ignore him. Completely.

No eye contact. No soft petting behind his ears. No allowing him to curl on your chest like he always did during your evening Netflix marathons.

You closed your bedroom door on him. Left him outside the bathroom. Ate your meals in silence without dropping the occasional bits of meat under the table like you used to. You didn’t speak to him, didn’t respond when he meowed or pawed at your feet.

He was getting frustrated—you could tell. The way he’d sit at the hallway and stare at you, tail flicking with agitation. The way he’d follow you around like a shadow (true to his name), brushing against your legs like he was trying to say something, apologize, maybe.

But you stood your ground.

For days, the silent treatment went on. And it seemed like he was getting increasingly on edge. You even caught him pacing your room when he thought you weren’t looking.

Then came that night.

You were washing your face in the bathroom, dabbing it with a towel, when you felt it—warm arms suddenly wrapping around your waist from behind. A body pressed against yours. Not a cat. Not small. Not furry.

A man.

You froze.

Before panic could settle in, you heard a voice—low, irritated, and painfully familiar.

“Why are you avoiding me? It’s so fucking irritating, you know that?”

Your heart stopped.

The voice was right next to your ear. Deep and smooth, but laced with frustration. The scent that enveloped you—faintly woody and musky—was not one you recognized, yet it felt oddly comforting.

“I didn’t mean to bite you, okay? Tsk... I was dreaming. Dreaming of chasing something, and then suddenly your damn toe was in my face.”

You were shaking.

Not from fear, but from the weight of everything. That voice. Those arms. The heat of his chest pressed to your back.

Then he spoke again, softer this time.

“You can stop ignoring me now... Please.”

You slowly turned around.

And there he was.

Tall. Lean but toned. Pale skin that contrasted beautifully against his raven-black hair, tousled in a way that made him look like he’d just rolled out of bed. And those eyes—those same amber eyes that you’d grown so familiar with. They were narrowed now, staring at you with a mix of guilt, irritation, and something else... something deeper.

Long black sleeves draped loosely off his shoulders, and his posture was almost catlike in its subtle grace. Barefoot. Shirt unbuttoned halfway. He looked like a model accidentally dropped into your bathroom.

Your lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

“I’ve always been like this,” he muttered, stepping closer. “A shapeshifter. Cursed or gifted, who knows. I can only turn human when the bond is deep enough... when the human I choose starts feeling things for me.”

He gave you a cheeky smirk, but his eyes were still serious.

“You’re impossible to read sometimes, but I know you care. You let me sleep on your chest. You talk to me like I understand—and I do. You feed me the good stuff, not the cheap canned crap. You even sing to me when you think I’m asleep.”

He paused, then tilted his head slightly, amber eyes softening.

“So yeah, when you started ignoring me... it drove me crazy.”