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San had never chased after a cat before—especially not one with ears, a credit card, and a personal grudge.
He sprinted down the hallway, nearly bumping into a maid who yelped and dropped a vase. "Hyme!" he called out. "Will you at least talk to me?!"
No answer.
Hyme's bedroom door was shut. Firmly. Locked, if the stiff silver handle was anything to go by.
San stood outside it, panting. "Okay, cool. Silent treatment. Totally earned that. Deserved. But also not entirely my fault?"
Nothing.
San sighed and leaned his forehead against the door. "You really think I'd be dating some ex behind your back? I'm broke, remember? I live off your fridge and sleep in your guest room."
There was a small sound—maybe a scoff? Maybe a hiss? San couldn't tell through the thick wood.
He continued anyway. "Kai has the brain cells of a crusty breadstick, Hyme. He still thinks I eat tuna straight from the can."
Still no reply.
San pushed his luck. "Look, I may not know exactly what we are yet, but I know what we're not—and I'm not two-timing you. Not while you're feeding me, housing me, and dragging me to every royal event like your emotional support gym rat."
Suddenly, the door cracked open just a few inches. Hyme peered through the gap, golden eyes sharp as needles. "Then why didn't you correct him properly? You sounded like you were hiding something."
"I wasn't hiding anything," San said, raising both hands. "I just panicked. You were asleep on me like a hot, angry pillow and then suddenly awake and glaring at me like I stepped on your tail."
Hyme narrowed his eyes. "You kissed me last night."
San flushed. "Yeah, well, it was the cheek!"
"You still kissed me."
"…Are you mad about it?"
There was a pause. Then Hyme's voice, quiet and flat: "I don't know yet."
The door slammed shut again.
San groaned and knocked his head against it twice. "This is exactly why I never dated cat hybrids. You're too emotionally advanced. And moody."
"I heard that," came Hyme's muffled voice.
San grinned a little. "Good."
A few seconds passed before the door opened again. Hyme stepped out this time, arms crossed, tail twitching, a blanket still wrapped over his shoulders like a royal robe.
His cheeks were faintly pink.
"I've decided," he said, lifting his chin. "You owe me."
San blinked. "For…?"
"For hurting my pride."
San blinked again. "Is that a real thing or did you just make that up?"
Hyme ignored him. "I want compensation."
"Money?"
"No."
"…Apology?"
Hyme glared.
"…A cat toy?"
Now Hyme looked personally offended.
San raised his hands. "Okay, okay! What do you want?"
Hyme smirked faintly. "You're going to take me out tomorrow."
San tilted his head. "Like…a date?"
Hyme's eyes sparkled, ears twitching. "Yes. A proper one. Fancy. With dessert."
"…Do I get to pick the dessert?"
"No. I pick everything. You just show up and carry me when I'm tired."
San gave a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, kitten. It's a deal."
Hyme stepped forward, poked San in the chest with a sharp nail, and said, "If your ex is there, I bite."
San winced. "Got it. No ex. No surprises. Just you."
Hyme nodded once, satisfied.
As he turned to walk back into his room, he paused.
"…And San?"
"Yeah?"
"…You may not know what we are yet…" He glanced over his shoulder, cheeks now glowing. "But I do."
And with that, the door shut behind him.
San stood there in the hallway, heart thudding, ears burning, and an entirely new kind of headache growing—one that felt suspiciously like affection.
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