“I love you, Alex. I love you.”

He just stares back impassively, features schooled and green eyes burning into mine with an almost judging glare. As if he doesn’t care about my confession, about me. As if telling him cost me nothing, as if my admission came with no price.

Despite his indifference, I can’t help but feel a shred of hope.

“Please, Alex, look at me. Talk to me, tell me what you want!” I croak, tears beading the corner of my eye.

He just stares, unkempt ginger hair a stark contrast to his stoic demeanor.

It’s almost enough to break me, his indifference. Who does that bastard think he is.

I stand from my place on the kitchen floor and turn away with anger, hands reaching towards the cabinets and throwing open the nearest one with a clang that makes Alex jump in fright.

I’m sickened at the little thrill of joy than runs through me at that, a disgust that grows with my delight as I reach my hand into cupboard and remove a small, cylindrical object.

The tears are growing now, cascading down my cheeks like a waterfall as if my distance from Alex had brought nothing but sorrow. The thought alone stings, sharp and unforgiving, and I find my hand curling menacingly around the object, thumb poised ever so delicately over the button on the end.

“Oh Aleeeeex” I sing, voice high pitched, teasing and oh so congested due to the stuffy nose than always accompanies my tears. “Would you like to play a game?”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink, although I swear, I swear, I can almost see his eyes narrowing in fright at my proposition. But he remains indifferent , and I can feel a smile curling onto my face.

Alex utters but a single word:

“Meow.”

I press the button, and a flash of red sparks out of the object as fast as light, streaking towards the area just ahead of where Alex now stands.

I can see his green eyes widening, taking in his surroundings as if the weight of what is happening has only now occurred to him.

He bolts, running, no, sprinting away from where he once stood, running straight towards me and the object with a look of absolutely mania on his face.

He pounces, leaping through the air with practices finesse, his hands stretching in front of him like claws.

He lands on the tiled floor with a thud, grasping desperately at the fluorescent red dot with a frenzied obsession

I can’t help but smile.

“You caught it!” I exclaim, releasing rhe button, bending down to run a hand along his ginger fur before withdrawing it quickly, prompting an indignant meow. It’s stupid even being near Alex, what with my increasingly terrible cat allergy, and my pharmacist isnt able to refill my prescription for at least another week.

But as I look down at his small, handsome little face, I know I can’t resist. Despite it all, I bend down and scoop him into my arms.

He man never say he loves me back, but his purr is more than enough to show it