Haughty and Disaffected Like All of Its Kin
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
I sat on the stairs as my mistress fought with the strange man. We had never had another human come to visit. She did not seem to want him to visit. But he fought his way in. It was quite spectacular. He fell on his face, and she laughed at him. He looked at me contemptuously. I eyed him curiously.
He suggested that I might be her familiar. Honestly, did he really think someone that looked like her could turn into as beautiful a creature as I? We went upstairs. The new our visitor, it turns out, has a name: Fiyero. Attractive, as humans go, but he had all sorts of strange marks on his face.
He asked for a drink, and she tried to offer him some of the rancid milk. Malky still drinks it. No, Malky does not. In case she didn't notice, Malky walks over to it, sniffs it, licks it tentatively, and runs. But careful attention is never paid.
I climbed up onto the windowsill and watched the ensuing conversation. It appears my mistress knows this Fiyero, from school. But she pretended not to. I don't understand her sometimes. It appears that she too has a name, but I can't determine what exactly is the correct one. There's Fabala. There's Elphie. And there's Elphaba. They're probably just derivatives of each other. Anyways, she never told it to me. But Fiyero knows it. Why humans tell each other things, and keep them from the cat, I don't know. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone her name. Hell, she doesn't bring anyone by to visit me.
She called me over and I came, first up the side of the sofa, then tentatively onto her lap. She stroked me roughly, then began ruffling my fur in the wrong direction, which she knows I hate. I abided it for a moment. Then I hissed. And she chucked me clear over the coffee table. I landed hard, on my feet of course, and scurried over to the bed. Fiyero seemed a bit disturbed by her actions. Good. At least someone cares about the cat. But I was wrong. He's concerned about her, sitting closer and trying to get her to talk to him. I've heard more of her voice tonight, than ever before.
She wants him to leave. He doesn't want to. She says she never wants to see him again, but her expressions betray her. She wants to see him again. I can tell from my vantage point. But of course she won't tell him that.
They stand and go toward the door, I patter over, and standing between them, look up. He grabs her hand, and she looks at him, lost. Then he left, sadly. She was so upset by it. She ran over to the window and discreetly watched him meander down the street. I watched a bit more conspicuously from the sill. She leaned against the wall, and I nuzzled against her hand. She pet me, absently.
I purred to let her know I was there for her, and turned my head to our departing visitor.
"I didn't realize how much I missed him."
She picked me up, and put me over her shoulder. I continued to purr.
"I should bring him by again, huh?"