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Louis' fur is a little matted by his front paw, so he licks and licks and licks until it's all soft and flat and just the way he likes it.
His bowl of coconut milk--which his very healthy for his tummy, he knows--is sitting a few feet away and so he paws his way over to it, the pads of his feet tapping lightly and his ears press back on his head.
"Yummy, yummy, milky in my tummy," he hums between licks of his milk, and then he hears a loud yowl and a scampering of feet. Probably it's the raccoon; it likes to walk around here when it's warm outside and steal the garbage. He trots to the little door placed in the huge door and pushes his face through the flap--there's nothing there. Huh.
"Wow, you're so white!"
Louis jumps and hits his neck on the door and his back instantly raises up a foot. "Who are you," he hisses at the cat that's coming closer, and Louis can see how dirty he is. He's got brown, curly fur, and his eyes look too big and his one ear has a little chunk missing from it. Before Louis was taken to the clinic to get adopted, his mommy had told him to not mess around with the mean-looking cats. This cat doesn't look mean, but he looks like he doesn't have an owner.
"I'm not sure. Will you check my collar?" The curly cat walks closer, and a low growl sounds in Louis' throat. Louis can't help the way his fur raises and his ears peel back. "I promise I won't fight you. I'm a friendly kitten, did you know that?"
Louis didn't know that. He takes a close look at the other cat's eyes, sees that they're closing halfway over to show that he's calm and relaxed, so Louis walks over. He lifts a paw to flip the little dangle on his collar--with a lot of difficulty--and sees a few letters on it. "H-A-R-R-Y," he reads. "Harry."
"Wow! That's so cool. What's your name?" Harry asks, sitting back on his haunches and and lifting a hind leg to scratch behind his ear. A few dust and mud pieces fly off when he does it, and Louis scowls. He's a dirty cat.
Louis stands on all four of his legs and backs up a little. "I'm Louis. Do you want to come in for a bath?" Louis likes baths. He has his own special one; it's shallow and the water is always a perfect temperature and his owners always crowed, "Oh, look, kitty likes his bath."
Harry says 'sure' all excitedly, and follows Louis into the house after Louis makes him lick his paws clean. They pad across the house, sneaking fast through the living room so the owners don't see them, and Louis realizes that he has a big problem.
He doesn't know how to put water into his bath. He supposes that his owners will find out soon enough that there's another cat in the house, so he meows and meows so they'll come help.
"Gosh," Louis sighs, "they take a long time to get over here."
Harry's too busy hopping up on the counter and sniffing all the soaps and towels to hear him, but occasionally he lets out a soft mewl that he probably thinks will help the situation.
The owners finally come, talking to each other, and Louis winds through both their legs crying before hopping into his bath and scratching the bottom of it.
"Ah, look! Another cat!" one of them says, picks up Harry and Harry sniffs and lets himself be cradled like a baby. They pet him and say, "Oh, he's so dirty, let's bath him."
Louis nearly sobs because he's been trying to say that this whole time. But they still get the bath ready, push Harry into it with their big hairless hands, and Louis steps over to the taller owner and nuzzles his leg until he's picked up.
"Niall, I think Louis is feeling a little bit neglected," he says really loudly, and Louis' nails come out for a second. The owners don't like that, though, so he puts them back in and puts his nose in the owner's shirt.
"Poor little kitten. We'll get him some more treats, those good ones, yeah? The ones that shrink down his big ol' belly."
Louis sniffs unhappily at that and flails his body around until he's set back down, and pouts in his tall, fluffy, bejeweled bed until Harry's clean.
He decides that Harry has to leave.
--
A week later, Harry is still there, and he's only got a cardboard box for a bed. The owners said they haven't had time to get a better one and that they'll get one soon, and they've placed a little blanket into the box so it's not so rough-feeling.
Louis still feels very sour about the whole situation. So far he's knocked a glass of water over, shattering it, and ran away to make it look like Harry'd done it. When Harry got a big scolding, a hit on the bum and no treats for a whole day, Louis felt a little bad and bit his own treat in half so Harry could nibble the other half.
He tries to get along with Harry, he does, but it's so hard. Louis is the prettier cat; he was specially bred and has soft, soft fur and clean white teeth, but Harry is treated like a baby and is given more attention. It makes Harry sad, Louis thinks.
"Louis, will you come tickle my back? I can't quite reach," Harry had said one day, turning his body to try to paw at a little spot on his back. Harry told him he 'got in a scrap' and his bones were a little messed up, and that was why he couldn't reach.
"Why don't you get one of the owners to do that," Louis had suggested snootily, like it was this big insult.
Harry huffed, turned around, and walked over to the wall to rub himself along it. Louis could tell it wasn't working, or at least not very well. He still wasn't going to help, though.
That night, while Harry was sleeping in his box, Louis had hopped down his bed and padded over to Harry. He nuzzled his nose along Harry's back for a while, trying to find the mat, and then licked over and over until it was nice and soft. Louis was good at licking mats out, he thought, and trotted back to bed.
He slept very nicely that night, and he thought he would sneak himself some more treats the next day.
--
Harry finds him the next day and his smile is so big that Louis can see all of his sharp, sharp teeth. (They're getting whiter, he notes.)
"Thank you for cleaning me last night," he says, and if cats could blush like humans did on TV, Harry would be bright red.
"I didn't clean you," Louis tells him. "That would be gross. The owners probably did."
Harry makes a face like sure, whatever, I know you did it, and Louis doesn't try to stop him. Louis thinks Harry looks very pretty when he's smug.
The owners say, "Hello, kitties," when they trot into the kitchen for food--pink princess bowl for Louis, brown bowl for Harry-and Louis can see over his nose that they're reading on a laptop together.
"Look, here," one of them says, jabbing his finger onto the screen. "Do you think Harry will like that home? They say they're a 'loving, caring family with a little boy who loves animals'. That sounds good, right?"
"Definitely. Let's give them a call, yeah?"
Louis snorts and keeps licking, having no idea what they're talking about. This is Harry's home. Stupid humans.
Harry decides to take Louis outside after breakfast. He says, "Louis, what if something happens and you're trapped outside? How will you know how to live?"
Louis can't disagree with that, so. They sneak out the door and scamper around the woods; Harry catches a mouse, brings it to Louis, and Louis meows and hisses and nearly runs himself all the way up a tree.
"You stupid! You're a stupid! Don't do that!" Louis shouts, hisses, glares, and Harry looks very sad.
"It was a present," Louis hears him mew, and Louis feels a little bad. Well.
"Oh," Louis says, claws the little bit down the tree, and slowly crawls up to the lump of animal on the ground. "I. Well, thank you. That's a nice-looking mouse you got me."
Harry shines again and hops a bit, his paws skidding along the loose leaves, and he falls with an oof and his face in the mud. Cats aren't supposed to be that clumsy, Louis thinks, but Harry is a special cat. Just in a different way than Louis.
When they get back to the house, the owners go there you are! and scoop them up into a hug. Louis feels suffocated so he meows angrily and hops down. Harry follows, of course.
"Look how close they are," they say, "it's going to be tough to separate them."
Louis still thinks they're stupid, so he just huffs and curls into Harry's box for a nap. Harry lays himself behind Louis, and Louis lets Harry softly lick behind his ears and around his collar.
They sleep themselves silly, 'till it's nighttime, and they sleep again. Louis feels warm and for once, he feels like he has a really good friend.
--
When Louis wakes the next day, Harry is nowhere to be seen.
He looks and he looks and he looks--in the bath, outside, in the trees, back in the kitchen, and the more he looks, the more he gets scared. He misses Harry's wide eyes, the chip in his ear, and his big mouth.
"Where's Harry?" he tries to ask his owners, but they just pat his back and go along with their day.
He starts running, then, over the couches and digging his claws in to get attention. Harry always hears his claws and runs over, asking, "What are you doing, Louis? Can I play with you?" but Harry doesn't run over.
"Come on, Harry, quit playing hide and seek," Louis mews really quiet, and he gives up and hides in Harry's box. He sniffs the blanket, where Harry always slept behind him, and purrs. His kneads into the spot, licks at it a little, and sleeps. Harry will be there when he wakes, he knows.
--
On the second week of Harry being gone, Louis hasn't gotten out of bed for days. The owners have resorted to bringing his bowls to his bed--Harry's bed--and giving him more treats than usual. Louis doesn't eat the treats, but he eats his food.
Sometimes he hears the owners say, "Do you think Louis is depressed?" and the other says, "Don't be stupid. Cats don't have a smart enough brain for that."
Louis sometimes wants to crawl into his owners' bed, ask them things like why aren't you a cat why do you have no fur on your face where are you going, but mostly he wants to ask where is Harry where have you taken him.
When he tries to ask, they only coo and scratch behind his ears. It's matted behind there, because Harry usually licked the knots out. Harry usually purred while he did it, and he had said well, your fur tastes good. You're so clean. Louis misses Harry more than anything in his whole world.
--
They get another cat.
Louis snarls and hisses and scratches his stupid blonde fur. He says why are you here you're not Harry get out of my house.
The cat is gone a few days later, and Louis is glad.
--
Louis hears his owners talking one night, and it doesn't sound very good. They say, "What are we going to do? Should we just put him up for adoption? He's become terrible. I'm just so tired of him."
Louis doesn't feel bad, because he feels the same way towards them.
They take him to a building with loads of other cats who hiss at him when he's placed into his glass room, and he hisses back. It's all so very scary: cats are everywhere, dogs, too, and he doesn't know where to turn. His owners say bye, Louis, and then they leave through the door. Louis wishes they would come back.
A lot of people come through the building the next few days. They pet Louis, they kiss Louis, they say he's such a pretty kitten, but then they leave and Louis feels unloved and scared.
But one day, a family comes and Louis knows they're the one. The little boy squeals, picks him up, and hugs him so tight and Louis doesn't even mind. He purrs, licks their cheeks, and they say aw, we must have him, keep him forever, and Louis agrees.
They take him home in a little crate, and it clanks in the back of the car but the little boy turns around and says it's okay, little kitten we'll be home soon, and so Louis stops shaking and burrows his face in his blanket.
At home, it's so very nice. He stays in his crate for an hour because he's a little frightened still, but the home smells good like baking and something else. Something else. Something--Harry.
The second he makes this realization, he bolts out of his cage with a loud yowl, so fast that his nails slip along the wooden floor, and he sees him. He sees him curled up and sleeping in a brown, pillow bed.
"Harry! Harry, Harry!" Louis screams on the top of his cat lungs, and Harry's ears jolt before his eyes fly open.
"Louis!" Harry shouts back, and he throws himself out of his bed and toward Louis.
They clash in the middle, their bodies smashing together and they meow but it's Harry. They curl and wind around each other, licking randomly and making pleased mews and sniffs, remembering each other again and Louis is so, so happy.
"I missed you," Harry snuffs, and he hooks his head over top Louis' and purrs so loud Louis can feel it.
"I missed you too, Harry."
The new owners come, and they go wow, they love each other, this is just what Harry needed, and the little boy picks them up in his tiny little arms and drops them into Harry's bed.
"Not allowed to leave again, dirty Harry," Louis tells him firmly at night when they're curled tightly together.
"Okay," Harry says, and that's that. Louis just thinks two cats in love, and falls asleep.