Hyde was grumbling all the way to Jekyll’s home, grumbling with no care as to whoever may hear him. It was cold and dark, Hyde assumed, so there shouldn’t be anyone around to hear.
“First the sweater, now the cat?! What does Moldy think I am, a jester?!“
“Hyde, she was probably just trying to make people smile.”
“What? At my expense?!”
“Next thing I know, I’ll hear you laughing at me too!”
Jekyll sighed internally, once again wondering how bad his condition had gotten.
“It’s nothing like that at all!”
“What is it like, then?” Hyde spat. “Have I somehow become the town’s punching bag or something-“
Hyde stopped in his tracks, glancing around. He could have sworn he heard something, but he didn’t notice anything. Shrugging, he continued onward for a second or two before he heard the sound again.
“Jekyll, are you trying to make me feel guilty with your cat noises? Coz it won’t work.”
“… I’m not making cat noises.”
Hyde frowned and turned around. He saw a trail of tiny paw prints running right next to His footprints, and suddenly felt something lightly tapping his leg. Looking down, he found a tiny brown kitten at his feet, shivering from the cold. “Mew!”
Hyde scowled, “Oh, great… They weren’t joking about the cat choosing me.”
Now, Hyde didn’t buy into the whole “cats choose their owners” business, but this little one was persistent. He grumbled, gently nudging it off his foot. “Go home already, cat!”
But the cat didn’t go home. Instead, it crawled back to Hyde’s feet and kept mewing pitifully.
“Look,” Jekyll pointed out, “It’s snowing heavily, and we’re halfway to the house. I’m actually shocked that kitten managed to follow you this far; the poor thing must be freezing to death!”
Hyde groaned in annoyance. “Don’t tell me you want me to take it home with me!”
“If only for the night. If I must, I can take it to Moldylocks tomorrow.”
Hyde stared at the kitten as it tried to climb up his boot. He would have been happy to let it freeze, but something was stopping him. Was it Jekyll’s will still manifesting in some small way, or the pitiful look in the tiny cat’s eyes? Maybe it was something about the season, like Ebenezer Scrooge taking pity on Tiny Tim. Hyde couldn’t tell for sure…
He finally sighed, his breath turning to fog in the chilly winter air. He picked up the kitten by the scruff of its neck and placed it in one of his coat pockets where it promptly curled up and purred.
“… Fine. But you deal with it, Jekyll.”
(( To be continued…