"I'M SO SORRY, BABY. I didn't mean it, I promise. Forgive me, please, I don't even know what I was thinking."

I understand in a karmic sense that sure, I've lived a less than perfect life. I've accidentally killed a fish here and there. I've littered. I buy child's tickets at the movie theatre and hope that the jaded fifteen-year-old doesn't care too closely- and they never do. My general juju probably has a few stains here and there.

Honestly, I get it.

But this is ridiculous.

"Please look at me, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I was just- please."

My lips press into a thin, concentrated line as irritation licks up my rib cage, iron-hot and corrosive. It's only growing stronger the longer I hear his voice, pleading and desperate, muffled from the other room. It's a complete 180 from the low, throaty whispers that had been tantalizing my senses only twenty minutes ago, the sweet promises he'd been pressing into my skin- gone. Vanished. Completely dissolved.

And instead, this.

"Baby, please look at me. I'll do anything. I promise it won't happen again."

Noel is an alien. That is literally the only explanation that makes sense.

"Nat, I swear to god, he's been talking to the cat for the past ten minutes and he keeps calling it baby. Baby. Why didn't you talk me out of this? Why did you let me do this?"

The cackling that sounds from my cellphone threatens to break my eardrums.

Which, at this point, might be a welcome addition to my life.

"What kind of weird shit did you guys get up to? How badly could you have possibly scarred this cat? Wait- do I even want to know? Think hard before you answer. I know you can't afford my therapy bills," Nat says, but any sense of sincerity is betrayed by her sadistic laughter.

My narrow gaze fixates on the ceiling of my room, where I'd escaped to after Noel had realized Cleo was watching us from the corner (the pervert). I was hoping that Noel and I could go farther, explore deeper, finally breach whatever we'd been tiptoeing around this entire time and adventure to amazing, orgasmic faraway lands.

Or just get somewhere that didn't end up with me in my bedroom, alone, and talking to Nat on the phone.

Honestly, I wish any man harboured even half the amount of passion for me that Noel did for that damned demon cat.

"It was all strictly hand stuff! I did dirtier things when I was a junior in high!" I huff, heaving myself up into a sitting position and shifting my glare to the doorway where pathetic cooing could still be heard from the other side. "He's acting as if we stole her innocence or something."

"Well, clearly you did, Vika. It sounds like she won't ever be the same again after this."

I roll my eyes. "She's a cat."

"A traumatized cat," Nat corrects me with an unnerving amount of enthusiasm.

I groan, again. "Everyone around me is awful and I hate all of you. I have enough on my plate as it is with Dr. Doolittle over here, so I'm hanging up on you. Try to be less of the worst next time I call you in my time of need. Goodbye."

Her only response is, once again, laughter. I think I hear the beginnings of a, "Wait, don't forget-" but then I've already clicked off and dropped my phone on the comforter, wondering if there's a limit to the amount I can roll my eyes before they roll right out of my head.

At least that would've saved me from the scene I find when I trek back into the living room.

"Oh my god, it's a cat," I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the doorframe.

Noel barely spares me a glance, his eyes flickering for a moment to narrow on me before they're back on Cleo again, softened and pleading. He's still dressed casual in his sweatpants and loose t-shirt, an aesthetic that makes me stare a second too long even after all this time, and his hair is mussed from all the times my fingers had run through it.

He's ridiculous as he fixes his glasses, frowning at Cleo and crouched in the middle of the floor. She's perched in the corner, chin up, eyes as callous as they've ever been.

I hardly see a difference, but Noel's acting as if she's having a hysterical breakdown.

"She has feelings," he says, voice clipped.

"Cats don't have feelings."

Noel sighs, and lifts to his feet, brushing his hands together. "I don't think you have the credentials to make that judgement." His gaze shifts to me, deadpan as usual.

I raise a brow. "The credentials of common sense?"

"You and common sense are a debatable pair."

Instinctively, my mouth opens to protest, but then after taking another survey of my circumstances, closes again. I sigh. "Clearly, if I'm in this situation."

Noel pauses, brows pinching thoughtfully before he takes a few steps forward, the couch no longer a safe medium between us. My head tilts in curiosity as a small, unreadable smile tugs on the corner of his mouth.

"This situation? It didn't seem like you were complaining before." He pauses two steps away, the closest we've been since he'd shoved me off him, rough in all the ways I did not want.

I scoff. "Before you were paying more attention to me than the cat."

"Are you jealous of the cat?"

I hesitate, swallowing my defensive instincts when I see Noel almost beaming, the creases of worry that seem permanently engraved between his brows miraculously softened. The edge of his mouth is still hovering in that half-hearted smirk, and all I can muster is a shrug.

"When it's interfering with my ability to get some, I'm gonna have to go for a shameless, resounding yes. Absolutely. Of course. All of the above," I admit, slapping both palms against my cheeks and pulling the skin down, barely believing the words that are coming out of my own mouth.

I wonder if pleading insanity due to sexual frustration is a reasonable defense in court.

Noel's smile almost upgrades to a full-blown grin, but then he's coughing into his fist and clearing his throat, as if he's as surprised as I am, despite asking in the first place. "Well, you're going to have to hold back until Cleopatra's gotten over it."

I almost choke. "Wait- what, are you serious?"

"I'm completely serious."

My jaw hangs open for a moment, quicker than my brain that's still processing. "You're seriously not going to have sex with me until I get this cat's blessing?"

Noel blinks. "Well, I will-"

I breathe out a generous sigh of relief. "Thank god."

"Not in this apartment," he continues, unfazed by my aborted half-human choking noises, "obviously."

"Obviously?" I echo, "Jesus Christ. I cannot believe that this is my life right now. Tell me this is a joke. Please- please tell me that you're joking. Is this a bit? Are you doing a bit right now?"

Noel's face pinches, a defensive frown weighing down his mouth. "She's sensitive."

"She's a cat!"

"Don't say that about her. I understand you're upset, but there's no reason to take it out on her."

The earnest concern that's flashing in his dark eyes has me both wanted to rip out my hair and kiss him all at once in a strange mixture of emotion I'm getting more and more familiar with the longer I spend time with Noel.

I heave another sigh, cheeks puffing as I take a moment to, once again, wonder if there's any chance of saving my poor karma ratios or if I've lost all hope of that.

"How do I still want to sleep with you?" I murmur, mostly to myself, while carding a hand through my hair.

Noel visually perks up. "You still want to sleep with me?"

Something in my chest warms at the unusually hopeful tone in his voice.

I shrug. "Unfortunately."

He grins, and takes a step towards me that has something hopeful hovering in the back of my throat, but Cleo takes the opportunity to dart into the hallway and all attention on me is lost. My face drops as Noel immediately pivots towards the cat's disappearance and follows her with quick steps, causing me to throw my hands up in defeat and groan.

"I'm a good person, okay? I could be like, way worse. I could kill people," I complain, loudly, to no one in particular.

I'm convinced at this point that Nikki must have done some sort of voodoo magic. For a moment, my mind experiments with the idea of finally paying her back for all those missed month's rent, now that I have at least some money to my name, but I remember that I have to pay for first and last month's rent of the new place I'm inevitably going to get, so maybe another month or two won't hurt. She's doing fine, I tell myself, and find distraction in following Noel.

"Is this some kind of weird foreplay for you? Is this why you keep doing this?" I ask, turning on my heel and leaning against the doorway.

Noel's sitting on Mark's bed, a brush in hand as he's gently sweeping through Cleo's spotted fur, and looking up at me. "I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, is this turning you on or something? Withholding from me? That's the only reasonable explanation here."

Noel's head shifts back, confusion creasing his brow. "This is about Cleopatra."

"What about some making out, at least? Over the clothes. PG-rated and everything," I propose, ignoring the hope saturated in my words, too busy drowning in the memory of him pressed up against me. I bat my eyes in a way I hope is convincing. "I promise, I'll keep my hands to myself. Mostly."

A small smile breaks out across his face. "Tempting offer, but not in this apartment."

"Noel," I whine, "Are you seriously going to make me beg? Unless... are you a virgin? Is that it?"

My jaw drops with a quick gasp as I consider the possibility, the shock only swelling when I see a distinctive red burn at the tips of his ears.

"No," he blurts, stressing the vowel out and shooting me a sharp stare. "I was in a four-year relationship, thank you very much."

I pause and exhale, ignoring the fleeting wonders of what Noel is like in a relationship. "Fine, fine, all right. Okay. So what is it? You really don't want to kiss me that much?"

"I told you, I never said that," he murmurs, and there's that unusually intense look smouldering in his eyes that threatens to wind me, conjuring tingles from every inch of my body.

I swallow, and silence floods around us.

Against my better judgement, especially with Cleo lounging peacefully in his lap, I take a step forward. Noel's mouth twitches as if he's about to say something, but nothing comes out. The quiet continues, and feeling all the right kinds of dangerous and rebellious, I take another step. Still nothing.

Then I'm hovering right in front of him, crouching down to meet him eye-level, breath hitched in my throat. Noel's still uncharacteristically quiet, eyes burning into mine, the same insatiable curiosity reflected back.

As I lean in, heart thudding two-beats too quick on pure adrenaline alone, the doorbell echoes through the room.

"Oh, come on, are you serious? Is this happening?"

Noel blinks, his face the picture of innocence, and his gaze shifts to the door. "Could you get that? I really don't want to leave Cleopatra alone right now."

I open my mouth to protest, but swallow the words back down, my shoulders sagging in defeat. The world is clearly sending signs and at this point; I need at least five minutes away from everyone to rest and recuperate before even trying to fight it. Instead, I throw my hands up and turn on my heel, retreating to the front door.

It's obviously not Mark- he has keys, after all, and always sends a warning text before making an appearance, which is awfully nice considering it is his own condo, after all. I try to think back if I ordered anything to for delivery, and can't, but food on the other side of this door would not be an unwelcome addition to my life at this point.

Unfortunately, when I pull the door open, there is zero food.

"Cecilia?" I ask, blinking, almost positive that this must be a bizarre dream, maybe nightmare, at this point.

That can be the only reasonable explanation. That, or I'm dead and have finally found hell.

"Vika!" Cecilia gasps in all her nasal-toned glory, a hand glittering with the most obnoxious of rings slapped against her chest and her curled brown hair bouncing with the exaggerated movements. "I've been trying to contact you for like, two weeks!"

I clear my throat, reminded of all the unanswered texts lingering on my phone from an unknown number that I had no intention of making known, and shake my head. "Yeah, uh, my phone. It's, um... broken. Yeah, broken. Haven't gotten any texts. My bad."

The shrug and sheepish grin I give definitely communicates that I was not intentionally ignoring her and hoping that she unexpectedly had to move to Siberia or something. Or even like, Ohio.

Cecilia clicks her tongue, grinning. "Vika," she admonishes, "You're so disconnected, I love it."

She's bounces past me into the living room, leaving me to stand in the doorway, blinking, with the smile still inexplicably frozen on my face.

"What is with rich people and inviting themselves in everywhere?" I murmur under my breath.

"What was that, darling?" Cecilia pauses, throwing a look over her shoulder, a dazzling smile still stretched across her lips.

"Nothing, nothing," I assure her sweetly, slowly clicking the door shut and wondering why it couldn't be pizza on the other side of the door. Pizza wouldn't do this to me. "Uh, what're you here for, Cecilia?"

She turns to me, her mustard yellow dress flouncing about her calves, and pins me with that sly gaze that haunts my darkest nightmares.

"Vika! You've been totally ignoring the Facebook group chat!"

"Yeah, my bad." I shrug, eyes wandering the room.

I may or may not have turned off notifications about 0.02 seconds after being invited.

She laughs. "The bachelorette party, of course! It's next Friday, and we have to iron out all the details! Nat said you weren't working today, and I booked it all off, so we have all day today!" She practically squeals. "I'm so excited!"

I blink.

"All... day?"

She beams. "Yes!"

I wonder what are the chances of Cleo actually killing me if I try to pick her up, but rationalize that even a slow, agonizing, and excruciating death would be better than a day with Cecilia.

Where was that damned demon cat when you need her?