CHAPTER 168: THE CAT THAT STOLE THEIR HEARTS

The elevator hummed quietly as it carried them down, Noel rocking the cat gently in his arms.

Luca stood beside him, hands tucked in his pockets, glancing sideways every so often as if the cat might explode at any second.

"You’re holding it like a baby," Luca muttered.

"Because it is a baby," Noel replied without looking at him. "A very precious one."

The cat gave a faint purr, and Luca rolled his eyes. "You’re already spoiling it. I can see where this is going."

"Where?" Noel asked, chin tilted, clearly baiting him.

"Scratched furniture, hair on my suits, and me sleeping on the edge of the bed while that thing claims your pillow."

Noel chuckled, brushing his nose against the kitten’s head. "You’d still be jealous of a cat? How fragile your ego must be."

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, spilling them into the lobby.

Outside, a cab waited at the curb, the driver leaning casually against the hood.

Luca reached the door first and pulled it open, gesturing with a little mock formality.

"After you. And after your highness, the furball."

Noel slid in carefully with the cat cradled against his chest, murmuring, "See that, Luca? He respects you."

"I was talking to you," Luca said as he climbed in after them, shutting the door with a sigh.

Noel smirked, settling back into the seat while the driver pulled away from the curb. "Sure you were."

The cab slid into traffic, the city morning buzzing outside the window.

Noel shifted the cat onto his lap, stroking its tiny back in slow circles.

The purring grew louder, vibrating softly in the quiet hum of the car.

Luca leaned his elbow against the window, pretending to watch the blur of storefronts go by.

His eyes, though, kept straying—just quick side glances at the bundle in Noel’s lap.

"You can look properly, you know," Noel murmured, not lifting his gaze from the cat.

"I’m not looking," Luca said flatly.

"Mhm." Noel’s lips curled, his thumb brushing over the kitten’s ear. "You’re just memorizing every whisker through the reflection."

Luca huffed and turned his head fully toward him. "Fine. I’m looking. And I’m wondering how something so small already owns this entire car."

"Not just the car," Noel teased. He tilted the kitten gently toward Luca, as if offering it for inspection. "It’ll own the apartment too."

The kitten blinked up with glassy eyes, one paw stretching lazily in Luca’s direction. Luca froze, jaw tightening as if he were being tested.

Noel grinned. "Go on. It likes you."

"I don’t do fragile," Luca muttered, but after a long beat, he extended a cautious finger. The kitten batted at it clumsily, then curled its paw around him.

Noel’s laugh came soft and satisfied. "Look at that. Luca Jr. already approves."

The driver’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror at the name, but wisely said nothing. Luca groaned and leaned back, though his finger stayed caught in the kitten’s grip.

"If it starts demanding a side of steak for dinner, it’s your problem," Luca said.

"Deal," Noel whispered, stroking the cat’s fur with a secret little smile.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of the small animal clinic, its pale blue sign swinging slightly in the morning breeze.

Noel gathered the kitten against his chest, careful, as if it were made of porcelain.

"Watch the step," Luca muttered, sliding out first and holding the door.

Noel gave him a look but still shifted closer, letting Luca’s steadying hand linger at his elbow as they crossed toward the clinic.

The glass door chimed when he pushed it open.

Inside smelled faintly of disinfectant and something warm, like hay. A receptionist lifted her head with a polite smile.

"Good morning. Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes," Noel said quickly, adjusting the kitten in his arms. "For... uh—" He glanced at Luca, lips twitching. "Luca Jr."

The receptionist’s pen paused midair. Her brows rose. "Pardon?"

Luca’s sigh was audible, heavy. "The cat," he clarified, dragging a hand down his face.

Noel’s grin widened as the receptionist tried to stifle her laugh.

She scribbled something down, then waved them toward the waiting area.

They sat on a bench, the kitten curled into Noel’s lap like a pocket-sized emperor.

Luca leaned back, legs stretched, arms folded, staring at the bland posters on the wall.

"You know," Noel murmured, stroking the tiny head, "you could at least pretend to care."

"I care," Luca said without moving.

"Mm. You’re sulking."

"Am not."

The kitten yawned, its impossibly small mouth stretching wide. Noel’s expression softened. "See? Even he thinks you’re sulking."

Luca finally tilted his head, eyes catching the sight of Noel cradling the little creature like it was a piece of his own heart.

Something in his chest gave—annoyance slipping into something quieter, harder to name.

Before he could speak, the vet appeared, clipboard in hand. "Luca Junior?"

Noel shot up, bright-eyed. "That’s us."

The vet blinked. "Right. Follow me, please."

As they moved toward the exam room, Luca muttered under his breath, "I’m never living this name down."

Noel, already stepping through the door, tossed him a smile over his shoulder. "Nope."

The exam room was small, clean, with a faint hum from the overhead light. A metal table gleamed under the lamp.

"Go ahead and place him here," the vet said gently, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.

Noel hesitated, fingers tightening. The kitten’s tiny paws clung to his sleeve like hooks.

"He’s scared," Noel murmured.

"He’ll be fine," the vet assured, nodding at the table.

Noel glanced at Luca.

"Don’t look at me," Luca said, though he stepped forward anyway, steady hands coaxing Noel to set the kitten down. "He’s not going to break."

The kitten let out the smallest squeak when the cold metal touched his fur. Noel’s heart clenched. He hovered close, stroking a tiny ear.

The vet leaned in, examining the eyes, teeth, and paws with calm precision. "Good weight. No obvious injuries. But since you don’t know his history, I recommend basic vaccinations today—rabies, distemper. Safer for both him and you."

Noel’s head snapped up. "Rabies?"

"Routine precaution," the vet said smoothly. "There’s no sign of infection, but stray animals should always be protected."

Luca’s jaw worked, unreadable. "Do it," he said finally.

The vet prepared the syringe, and Noel stiffened, pulling the kitten back slightly.

"Wait, does it hurt?"

"Only for a moment."

Noel’s mouth pressed thin. He leaned down, whispering into the soft fur. "It’s okay. Brave boy. Just a pinch."

The kitten wriggled but didn’t cry when the needle went in. Noel winced harder than the animal did.

"There," the vet said, disposing of the syringe. "All done. He’ll be a little drowsy, but nothing unusual. I’ll also give you deworming medication to take home."

Noel let out a long breath, scooping the kitten back into his arms immediately. "You did so well," he whispered, pressing his cheek against its fur.

Luca watched him—watched the relief in his shoulders, the tenderness he couldn’t seem to hide—and shook his head. "You’re worse than a parent."

Noel only smiled, clutching the kitten close. "Maybe he needs one."

The vet returned with a small package and a printed receipt. "Would you like to carry him home yourself or arrange a pet taxi? It’s safer after vaccines—less stress."

Noel gave the kitten one last stroke along its tiny back before looking at the vet. "Yes," he said softly. "Delivery. That’s best."

The vet nodded, already reaching for a form. "We’ll have him brought to your address within the next two hours. He’ll rest comfortably here until then."

Noel pulled his wallet without hesitation, sliding his card across the counter. "I’ll cover the delivery too."

The receptionist processed the payment while the vet carefully lifted the kitten from his arms. For the first time, Noel didn’t resist. He let go gently, murmuring, "You’ll be home soon, little one."

The kitten gave a faint mewl before disappearing into the vet’s hands. Noel’s arms felt oddly empty, and he rubbed his palms against his jeans, as though brushing away the ghost of soft fur.

Luca glanced sideways at him while they stepped out into the hall. "You really can’t help yourself, can you?"

Noel smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Some things are worth the trouble."

Outside, the cab was still waiting. The city noise pressed in again, sharp and busy after the quiet of the clinic. Luca pulled the door open. "Come on. Mall next, right?"

Noel slid into the back seat with a nod. "Yeah. Mall."

The cab door shut, muting the traffic. The engine started, carrying them toward their next stop.

As the cab merged into the flow of cars, Noel’s gaze drifted absently out the window.

His fingers, resting on his knee, twitched slightly, still feeling the phantom weight and warmth of the small life they had just entrusted to someone else.

He felt a light pressure against his shoulder and glanced over.

Luca had leaned his head against him, his eyes closed, not in sleep, but in a quiet, solid show of support.

A silent understanding passed between them—a shared, unspoken promise that this new, fragile responsibility was theirs, and that the apartment would feel a little more like a home with a tiny, purring heartbeat waiting in it.

Noel let his own head tilt to rest against Luca’s, and for the rest of the ride, the city outside felt a little less loud.