So in the end, if Zion said they had taken care of the kitten together, that wasn't really true. It had always been Zion who fed it. Suga only checked in. Sure, he sometimes carried cat food in case the kitten hadn't eaten, but every time he visited the little shelter by the trees behind the library, the kitten was already curled up asleep, its dish still half-full. Clearly, it was always well-fed.
"...It was all you, though," Suga murmured. "You're the one who kept feeding it … the one who really took care of that kitten."
Zion didn't say anything. He just smiled again, and this time Suga caught it clearly, the dimple on his left cheek, deep and defined. The smile looked sweet, too sweet. Dangerous, really. Was that smile some kind of trick he used to hypnotize people, like a siren luring with its song?
