The two-hour fishing session lasted longer than expected.
It wasn't until dawn that Dante dragged his slightly tired body back to the cabin bedroom.
There was air conditioning here, and it was much more comfortable than the hunting lodge he usually stayed in near the ranch.
The room was quiet, and Susie was still asleep. Only a sliver of silver moonlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, outlining the contours of the room.
Dante tried to turn on the bedside lamp, but just as his fingers touched the switch, he suddenly froze.
It looked like there was something on the bed—right next to Susie.
He squinted and, by the moonlight, vaguely made out two tiny green dots floating in the shadows, like emeralds embedded in black velvet—cold yet alive, staring straight at him.
"Neblina?" Dante asked softly, having already guessed what it was. He relaxed and turned on the bedside lamp.
When the light came on, the owner of the eyes was revealed: it was the tabby cat.
Neblina, Susie's new cat, was sitting in the middle of the bed, using the soft bedding as her throne.
A small dip had formed under her body, her fur looked soft and fine, and her tail swayed gently like a loose ribbon.
At the sound of his voice, she slightly raised her head, and her green eyes sparkled warmly under the light—just a bit lazy—as if saying: "You're finally back."
"You look pretty comfortable," Dante chuckled as he sat on the bed and rubbed her ears with his fingers.
The cat squinted, let out a low purr, yawned lazily, and her little pink tongue flashed.
Then she flopped over on her back, revealing her soft belly, showing no intention of vacating someone else's bed.
Still awake, waiting for me? Dante thought as he gently stroked her fur, his tone full of affection.
Neblina ignored him but squinted and flicked her tail a few times, as if to say: "I wasn't waiting for you—I was guarding Susie until you came."
After freshening up, he found Neblina had taken over his pillow and was lying there like a noble master.
She glanced toward the moonlight outside the window, twitched her ears at the sound of his steps.
"And where exactly am I supposed to sleep?" Dante muttered as he carefully nudged her. "Just lie over there. I'm going to sleep next to my wife—and if you stay here, I might squish you."
Reluctantly, the cat jumped toward him and shoved her little head under the blanket.
"Hey! Don't crawl in there!" Dante leaned down and whispered near her face—a warning more filled with helpless indulgence than authority.
Neblina used to be extremely clingy as a kitten, but now that she was grown, she'd mellowed a bit. Still, Susie had been utterly enchanted by her the moment she laid eyes on her and never let her go.
Pretending not to hear him, Neblina leaned forward slightly and gently nudged his arm with her head—acting coy or maybe just testing his resolve.
From this angle, her green eyes shimmered brightly under the light, full of innocence and curiosity.
Neblina seemed to say: Look me in the eyes and say that again.
Dante couldn't help but laugh and gave in with a sigh: "Fine, be good and stay still. Can you just lie down here?"
He loosened the blanket a little, and Neblina snuggled in, her tail resting on his shoulder, a purr like a motor rumbling in her throat.
She seemed unusually energetic in the middle of the night. She kept rubbing against his face and occasionally stretched out her little paws to press gently on it.
Dante stared at the ceiling and tried to stop her. "No more pressing. It's not even cold. Don't crawl under the covers!"
The air conditioning was definitely on.
When his hand brushed her nose, it was so cold it softened his heart.
In the end, he gave up and lifted a corner of the blanket to let her in.
By 2 a.m., Dante couldn't stay awake any longer and finally fell asleep.
Neblina seized the opportunity to curl up in his arms, formed a little ball, and her purring gradually faded.
Early in the morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains and filled the room.
When Dante woke up, he felt something pressed against his chest.
He raised his hand and lifted the blanket a little, revealing a sleepy cat head resting on his chest—her round green eyes still a bit drowsy.
"You clingy little thing… you really slept on my chest."
The cat huffed, turned over in dissatisfaction, and stayed put, refusing to leave.
"You're such a little cling-monster."
Dante smiled and stroked her soft fur. Neblina purred again, like an eight-cylinder engine warming up for the new day.
"You need to gain some weight. You're too skinny now." He muttered to himself and picked her up.
The cat yawned lazily, flicked her tail indifferently, as if replying:
"Then give me better treatment, got it?"
Holding Neblina, Dante walked over to the window, looked out at the morning scenery, and smiled. "Forget it—you're my little nuisance."
"Coffee's ready," Susie said as she sat reading a book.
"Perfect."
During breakfast, Neblina tried to hop onto the dining table, but this time Dante firmly refused.
The little one had no choice but to lie down by the leg of the chair, poking her head out to watch their breakfast: baked potatoes, fried eggs, and sausages.
"Was your fishing trip good?" Susie asked, knowing how much Dante loved it and curious how the night had gone.
"It was pretty good. But I ran into an invasive species…" Dante began to tell her how his fishing had gone.