You're not sure what to think or how to react.

The male Gazelle in front of you smiles, the gesture only noticeable by his closed eyes and a slight tilt of his head. On one hand, he seems nice enough; a truly ordinary individual who simply enjoys adorning himself with peculiar accessories like a medical mask. Or he could have some form of mental disorder or uncontrollable phobia of germs that urges him to wear it. Who knows, you shouldn't be one to judge; you're crying on the dirty floor of a random, dark alleyway, with one of your hands covered in blood.

Maybe that's why this guy seems so out of place to you. First off, his greeting wasn't something most people would go for, seeing as it's the text-book definition of every start of every single horror-movie. But more importantly, the actual reason why you find yourself on edge around him is the instantaneous spark of dread and caution that ignites in your core.

Like an instinct or learnt behaviour that reminds you to be careful of each of your actions, scared that every move could cause a chain reaction that'd end in disaster. Nonetheless, it's familiar.

The last time you had felt this way was your first encounter with Doctor Masago. A calm, collected person just like the one in front of you currently seems to be, with an intellect that would prove to be her greatest ally and your worst nightmare.

Both the maned wolf and the bizarre male staring right at you in this moment share the same, haunting aura.

And both of them remind you of your own species. Utterly unpredictable.

"Oh, don't be shy," He coos in his gravely, off-setting voice after your long silence, his small-pupiled eyes boring into your own, "I don't bite...much."

"I...uhm..." Brows narrowing slightly in confusion, your quivering exhale appearing as a ghostly cloud due to the winter's bane, you can't find it in you to respond. The entire situation baffles you, your mind still shaken up and vulnerable from the fight you were just involved in. You take in his clothing, a light blue button up shirt stuffed into a pair of black pants that end above fancy dark brown dress shoes, topped with a classy ebony winter coat. Having to admit that he looks quite fine in his fit, you then avert your eyes back to his own.

There's an odd sense of curiosity in them, brighter sparkles of green lighting up the small, pine green hues. It's both innocent and childlike, whilst bordering on menacing and devilish, portraying a sense of extravagant intelligence.

"They're so much like Masago's." You mutter absentmindedly, unknowingly sharing your thoughts with the strange Gazelle.

"That's the doctor that was involved in that car-crash a couple of weeks ago, no? The news mentioned it quite often."

"Huh?" Naturally, heat crawls into your cheeks once you understand your mishap, your gaze lowering in embarrassment. Though it's noteworthy to say that the Gazelle's intense eye-contact is very intimidating as well, something you're not really used to. "Oh, r-right. Yes...that's her."

Only averting your gaze is not enough to make the effects of his stare disappear. It nearly suffocates you, holding you in place like some sort of prey frozen by fear. You feel tiny and vulnerable, an uncomfortable shiver running down your spine. A feeling that you don't even get beneath the stares of carnivores.

"Here." Suprisingly, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to you, once again smiling at your bewildered gaze. "For the blood on your hands."

"Oh..." You had almost forgotten it was there. The encounter had distracted you weirdly enough, keeping you from facing your own demons in order to potentially run from the ones in the real world. Still, you nod your head and take it. "Thank you."

Gingerly, you lift your other arm, the speckles of dried red instantly catching your focus.

Why? Why am I always covered in blood?

Biting your lip to keep the newly-forming tears at bay, your head wandering off to a much darker place again, you begin to vigorously scrub at the crimson spots and lines.

I just want to be clean. I don't want this. I don't want more blood on my hands! I want it off! Please get it off!

Even when the blood has disappeared, now staining the white handkerchief instead of your s/c skin, you continue to aggressively clean your hand. Having entirely forgotten the presence of the male, you start crying again, the mess of emotions that haunted you earlier returning with full force. Sobs rock through your huddled form and no matter how hard you rub and wipe, the blood you've spilled has already gotten beneath your skin.

No matter what, you can't wash it off anymore.

But that doesn't stop you from trying.

Salty tears burn your sensitive skin, a stark contrast against the cold late evening breeze, your eyes solely focused on your hand as you trade the handkerchief for your fingernails. Quiet whimpers escape you as you scratch and scratch, tearing at the skin and not caring about the stinging pain one bit.

I just want it gone...

Your breath is erratic, the skin gaining an irritated tint as it begins to bleed, your assault too vigorous to withstand. It bleeds and bleeds and you continue to scratch, never satisfied with the amount of your own blood that paints your skin a deep red, in hopes that it may eradicated the traces of your despicable acts.

Heavily panting and crying, you're just glad that Legoshi's not here to see this.

"Alright, little human, that's enough."

Two hands take a hold of your own, forcing to stop damaging your own body in hopes of silencing the guilt in your heart. The Gazelle watches you with growing interest, though a visible glimmer of calamity and serenity can be spotted in those dark green orbs, and holds your hands apart from each other. They tremble, blood trickling from the small wound and small lines of red roll down your skin before ending at your wrist, the crimson liquid dropping to the ground in a steady rhythm. His own hand is tainted by the fresh blood but he doesn't seem to care.

It should've been concerning, yet you find yourself oddly entranced by his collected demeanour.

"No more hurting ourselves, alright?" He asks, waiting patiently until you manage to nod, much like a lost child merely listening to a stranger's instructions. "Now, I'm a therapist, so I know what I'm doing. You need to get your breathing under control. See, just repeat after me."

Instinctively, you focus all your attention on him, watching as he breaths in and repeating the action. Slowly, you inhale for four seconds, hold it for seven and then exhale for a duration of eight seconds.

"Good," He praises, once more showing you his closed-eye smile, "And again."

You repeat the cycle, over and over again. His intense stare keeps you frozen, unable to lose yourself in another dark hole while he guides you through the exercise. In and out, cold air enters your lungs and leaves your body as cloudy puffs of white. Sure enough, your breath calms itself and returns to its natural rhythm; though your body still trembles every so often. The traces of adrenaline and the chaotic cocktail of emotions you've experienced are still strong in your veins, leaving you tired and cold despite your warm jacket.

"T-Thank you..." You stammer, peering into his eyes that continue to remind you of carnivore ones. His ears flop, his twisted horns catching the light of the nearby street lantern like a spider's web. "There's no need to thank me. I'm just doing my civic duties."

His hands are warm against your own, the short sandy-coloured fur feeling much smoother against your skin than Legoshi's longer wolf fur. It's an interesting difference, one that distracts you from the fierce gaze he has fixed onto your smaller form.

Timidly, you remove your hands from his grasp and bring yourself back onto your feet. Leaning against the cold brick wall for support for a moment, you begin to wipe away the fresh blood from your hand, frowning as the white cloth turns red. "Sorry about your handkerchief, by the way. I kind of made it worse, huh?"

You hadn't expected any sort of response; it was a rhetorical question after all.

So you're definitely surprised when the Gazelle leisurely grabs your bleeding hand and guides it to his mask. Then, he lowers the medical material and grins, revealing a feline nose and many deadly fangs. Bringing your hand to his lips, his tongue darts out and begins to lap at the red liquid, rendering you both frightened, weirded out and utterly confused. He holds eye-contact with you the entire time, his tongue having a sort of rough, sandpaper-like texture to it.

Like a cat's...

And suddenly, his green eyes no longer hold that composed, sure gleam. There's a bright spark and a short, barely noticeable pause before he seems to regard you with more interest than before, eagerly licking over your skin. You don't struggle or fight against the gesture. Maybe you're too perplexed or too exhausted; maybe your curiosity trumps all other needs you currently have. The right answer is unknown to you but you doubt that you could actually rip yourself out of his hold and run away from him in your current state. And as of now, he hasn't done anything other than this bizarre thing, so you see no reason to flee.

After the year you've had, you're used to strange occurrences.

He only stops once there's not a tinkle of blood left, the bright moon above shining down on this peculiar scene and bathing his twisted horns in silver light as the light of the nearby street light suddenly disappears. A broken lightbulb, it seems, but it renders you helpless in the dark. Only the moon aides your tired eyes now.

As well as the reflective, slightly glowing eyes of the Gazelle that glower at you from within the darkness. And as he smirks, showcasing his fangs once again yet not letting go of your hand so that it remains close to his muzzle, you finally connect the dots.

"Oh..."You mumble, a soft breeze rushing through the alley and playing with your hair. "You're a hybrid."

"Aren't you a smart little human." He chuckles, claw-less fingers moving over your skin. With a tired, impassive glance, you give a quick retort. "Well, it's not really hard to figure out. Sure, the mask hides your teeth and all, but your eyes kind of gave you away beforehand. Have you ever considered wearing sunglasses?"

Unimpressed, he cocks a brow. "In the middle of winter?"

"It wouldn't be the strangest thing, to be honest." You shrug, your eyes wandering from your captured hand to his face, intrigued by the unique facial structure. Sure, you're kind of fascinated by most animals you meet, but you've never met a hybrid. Much less one that appears to be a cross between a herbivore and a carnivore.

Without much thought to it, assuming it to be your form of revenge for his invasive hand-licking, you take a step closer to him and let your fingers roam over his jaw. He freezes, eyes staring you down like a hunting predator waiting to pounce if you even so much as think about making a wrong move. However, he doesn't stop you, most likely just as perplexed by the situation as you were a few minutes ago.

As they say, curiosity killed the cat, which would be your role in this scenario. Any logical, sane person would've fled at the latest when he began to lap at your blood, most likely even sooner. Yet you didn't. You're not exactly sure why but curiosity is a good enough reason. But if you're being honest, it's probably because he's a distraction. Something new. Something unique and mysterious in this strange world that you'll never forget isn't truly your own. Probably as much as he doesn't few it as his world either. In a way, you're both outcasts, though for very different reasons.

Two sides of the same coin.

And he keeps your mind from wandering back to those horrible memories, back to the fact that your hands aren't clean and that they'll never be ever again. Him taking the role of a distracting keeps you from letting yourself be consumed by your guilt and panic. Your exhausted brain would much rather focus on this new person in front of you, discerning whether or not he's friend or foe, instead of dwelling in the void that awaits you once you encounter a wrong, unwanted memory.

Letting your fingers glide over his furred face, first over his jaw and then up to his cheekbones, you take notice of the smooth sandy fur and the few darker spots situated directly under his eyes.

He's probably a mix between a Gazelle and a cheetah or leopard. Or jaguar. They all have these kinds of spots, so it's hard to tell.

Unlike Legoshi's long, canine muzzle, this male's is a lot shorter and sturdier due to the feline genes. In a way, his facial structure makes him closer to that of a human, the short muzzle being as broad as it is to give him a deadlier bite force. Still, from the front his face seems oddly oval shaped and not as obviously inhuman as that of a canine's or other felines.

But there's another thought in your head.

"Your face is funny," You comment, the edges of your lips tugging upwards in a suppressed smile when you catch his focused stare faltering, "Not necessarily in a bad way...but it's funny. It's like a perfect half and half mix between a Gazelle and...whatever animal your other parent was."

"Leopard. My mother was a leopard." He responds, remaining outwardly as cool as a cucumber even though his eyes betray him, telling you about his inner puzzlement and fascination about the situation. "You're oddly calm about encountering a hybrid."

"As you've noticed, I'm a human so...there's not much left that can surprise or catch me off guard anymore. I've learnt that this world's pretty weird. There are some nice things but most of the time, it's just confusing and frustrating."

Tenderly, your hand wanders across his face, booping his nose, which obviously catches him by surprise. "Besides, why should I care that you're a hybrid? It'd be naïve of me to assume something about you solely because of your genetic makeup. It'd be really weird of me, too."

Lifting your other hand as well, you grab a hold of his muzzle and gently pat it, kind of like you'd do to a cat or a toddler to confuse them. "You don't have any whiskers, right? That sucks. Those are pretty convenient to have as far as I know. At least you got the horns though, those are cool."

Finally, your hands leave his face and fall back to your sides, burying in the pockets of your jacket when another cold breeze hits you. Despite your eyes wandering to the ground for a moment, in a desperate need of a break from the excessive eye-contact, you notice how the hybrid licks his lips. Again, he reminds you a lot of a house-cat.

"I'm Y/n, by the way." Introducing yourself for the second time today, you awkwardly hold out your hand. Once more, you remind yourself to get rid of that habit as handshakes clearly aren't a common occurrence between animals, but you're caught off guard when the hybrid takes your hand into his again. It's the one you've injured and with a growing, nearly mad grin, he brings it to his lips and teasingly licks across the skin.

"I'm Melon."

"Nice to meet you. Stop it with the licking, you're being weird." You deadpan, once again surprising him with your lack of a reaction. Though that can be mostly credited to your exhausted state; you're positive that as soon as your head will hit the pillow, you'll be out like a light.

"I can't help it. You just taste..." Melon drifts off, leaving his sentence unfinished. Not that you really care, you can live happily without ever knowing what your blood taste like to other people. But his furrowed brows and nearly vulnerable look prompt you to move into action.

Sighing, you tap him on the muzzle, meeting his eyes with little emotion. "Cut it out...Weirdo."

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again after a moment of reconsideration. Rolling your eyes slightly, you take out your phone from one of your pockets and check the time, your eyes nearly bulging as you discover how late it actually is. "Oh geez, I really need to get going. Ugh, tomorrow's going to suck."

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Melon." Giving him a friendly, tired pat on the shoulder, you leave with a short wave and make your way to the exit of the alleyway. "Small piece of advice, don't hang around dark alleys that much. It's creepy. Good night!"

Burying your hands in your pockets again, already back home in your mind, you begin to trot down the street in the direction of the hidden Condo. The wind picks up, freezing cold air making the strands of your hair dance within its grasp and giving you just enough energy to probably reach your apartment. A yawn slips past your lips.

Then, the sound of footsteps echo behind you and you stop, turning around to throw a baffled look at Melon. The hybrid easily catches up to you, his face once again hidden by a surgical mask as he comes to a halt next to you, obviously waiting for you to continue walking. When he speaks, it's impossible to not hear the smirk in his voice.

"I'm unable to let a female walk all alone at night. May I walk you home, little human?"

Again, you sigh.

Man, it's like feeding a stray. Once you've done it, they're going to annoy you until the end of time.

"Fine," You eventually agree, resuming in your peaceful walk, "but please just call me Y/n. 'Little human' creeps me out."

"But that's no fun."

A telling glare from you silences him, even though you know damn well that someone of his stature is most definitely not intimidated by a tiny human like yourself. At least next to him you're small; next to a bunch of other animals, you're a giant. Which is fun until you nearly step on a mouse, who then threatens you with a lawsuit.

As the two of you fall into a shared pace, the hybrid slowing down despite his long legs allowing him to go much faster much easier than your own, you sneak a couple of glances at him from the side. Naturally, the ball of dread in your gut hasn't died down at all, despite how fascinating the specimen beside you is. The alarm bells in your head are still ringing and after everything you've experienced, you'd be a fool to not listen to them.

But it'd also be foolish of me to outright tell him to leave me alone and fuck off. That would probably aggravate him or make all of this seem like some twisted version of cat and mouse and I don't have the nerves for that.

Suddenly, you sneeze.

It brings a gravely chuckle out of the hybrid, before he blesses you out of sheer politeness. Quietly, you grumble under your breath, "Someone's probably talking about me."

"Let's hope it's only good things then, ey?" Melon chirps as you two round a corner, the hidden condo coming into view. Simultaneously, his arm begins to sneak up on you, grabbing a hold of your elbow despite your instinctual flinch at the unexpected contact. And despite how awkward it is and how you truly don't want to give this male the wrong impression, you let him happen. Partially because his body language alone reminds you of a lonely child in search of affection and also because you're too tired to fight your way out of his grip.

"I'm wondering about something, Melon," You start instead, hoping that a little small talk can ease the tension. He nods, giving you permission to continue. "Do you have any friends or something like that?"

Wtf, Y/n? You can't just ask people if they have friends?!

He shakes his head, though the sad fact doesn't appear to affect him. "No. Most animals don't want anything to do with a hybrid of my kind."

"Oh...sorry to hear that."

Of course, your condolences do little to untie the awkwardness, the tension now even worse after your failed attempt at small talk. And finally, you stop in front of your building, the lights burning in some of the other rooms when you gaze up at them.

"Well, this is my stop. Thanks for walking me home...and for helping me back there, I really appreciate it."

Melon stays silent, his eyes seemingly taking in the area and then proceeding to stare at a few drunken animals standing off to the side, stepping closer to you when they glance into your direction. Without your terrible gut feeling, you may have found the gesture cute. For a moment longer, you regard the tall hybrid with pondering expression.

And then, your empathy gets the better of you.

"Do you have a phone?" Puzzled, he nods and you hold out your hand. After a second, he understands and hands it to you, his brows furrowed in confusion. Turning it on, you smile and glance up at him, handing it back to him shortly. "You need to unlock it, dummy. I'm trying to give you my number here."

Honestly, the way his eyes widen at hearing that makes you glad you chose to listen to your empathy. He looks like a kid on Christmas eve, fiddling with the device before handing it to you and you type in your number and name into his contacts. Then, you give it back to him with a gentle smile.

"Now you've got a friend. Like I said, I don't really care about your genetic makeup. So if you ever want to talk or hang out, just text me." Patting his arm, you nod at him as a form to say goodbye. "And again, thanks for being there."

With that, you retrieve your keys from your pocket and unlock the door. Lazily climbing up the stairs to the sixth floor, you quietly unlock your front door and enter your apartment. Turning on the lights, you lean against the wooden material and sigh. The reality of what you just did finally dawns on you.

This is going to bite me in the ass, isn't it?

Then again, everyone can use a friend. Especially someone who's been an outcast for what you can assume to have been his entire life solely because he's a hybrid.

Who knows...maybe something good can come out of this.

***

Heya Homies! I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Melon-Man's certainly a weird one, let's be honest, but this interaction was very funny to write. I'm still trying to figure out how to write Melon, but like most other characters he's doing most shit himself. Fun fact, I actually had a very different plan for the first few chapters of this book but meh, the characters decided for themselves like always. Really, it's like trying to get toddlers to coordinate in a play without one of them constantly running off, setting things on fire, juggling mugs, building an ant army, having an exestential crisis and asking "Why don't we have more dragons?"

It's so much chaos.

By the way, the meme was made from my good friend Portal, who truly hates Melon with a passion. Which is why his character Mister X (I think) is just menacingly in the background.

But yeah, I interpret Melon as somewhat human like. He's basically just your everyday sociopath, so yeah.

On another note, I'm once again on another simping trip for Catra from She-ra, someone needs to take the internet away from me.

Anyways, I hope y'all are safe and sound during this ongoing pandemic! Stay safe everyone!

See you in the next chapter!