Chapter 12:Women...am I right!!"

Grim shuffled to the kitchen, the cat's meows escalating into a demanding attention.

"Hold your horses, or paws, or whatever," he mumbled, scooping kibble into the bowl with the enthusiasm of a sloth on sedatives.

Felicia, having slipped out of bed, trailed after him, but made sure to wear a robe to cover herself her confusion soon morphing into pure anger.

"What the hell do you think you were doing last night?" she demanded, her voice sharp as shattered glass.

Grim turned seeing Felicia now awake, an eyebrow raised, the epitome of indifference. "If I knew what I was doing every night, I'd have far fewer interesting stories," he deadpanned, his tone as flat as the earth in medieval times.

She huffed, crossing her arms, which were now wearing some gloves with diamond-sharp nails."Do you think this is funny? Waking up with your hands all over me?"

Grim glanced at his hands, as if surprised they were attached to his wrists. "These old things? They're like overeager puppies, always jumping where they're not invited."

The tension was as thick as the plot of a daytime soap opera, but before Felicia could retort, the black cat chose that moment to pounce, claws out, aiming for Grim's neck. It seemed even the cat had a bone to pick with him.

As the feline missile connected, Grim's head snapped backwards with the grace of a mannequin being tipped over.

"Now, now, we've talked about this—no surprise acupuncture," he chided, peeling the cat off as his skin stitched itself back together, and his blood turned into mist.

Felicia, momentarily distracted by the absurdity, couldn't help a snort of laughter. "You're a super..." she accused, though the ice in her voice hadn't disappeared.

Grim, now with a cat scarf draped around his shoulders, shrugged. "I aim to please. But seriously, I didn't take advantage of you. I'm undead, not uncouth."

Grim, with the black cat now perched atop his shoulder like a furry parrot with an attitude problem, faced Felicia, whose eyes were narrowed to slits.

"I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, but I'm not the damsel type," she spat, her stance defensive, every inch the retired Black Cat ready to claw her way out.

"Oh, I gathered that," Grim replied, his voice as dry as the Sahara. "Damsels usually don't threaten to neuter a man with their glare."

Felicia's glare intensified. "I could do a lot worse. And I will if I find out you've done anything—"

"Untoward? Inappropriate?" Grim interjected, while casually dodging a swipe from the black cat, whose loyalty was obviously to chaos itself. "I assure you, my intentions were purely horizontal."

Felicia huffed, clearly unconvinced. "You expect me to believe that? You, who just popped into my life out of nowhere, with your... your undead weirdness and your hands all over me, not to mention my clothes...you stripped me to nothing and you expect me to believe you did Nothing!!!"

Grim shrugged, and in a swift motion, he detached the cat, setting it on the ground. "Believe what you want, but I'm not the villain of this story. The cat, on the other hand, is currently plotting my demise."

She didn't smile. "I've dealt with worse than you," she said, though it sounded less like a threat and more like an admission.

"I have no doubt," Grim agreed, a hint of respect in his tone. "But right now, I have bigger concerns." As if on cue, the black cat launched itself at Grim again, latching onto his leg with the tenacity of a limpet. Grim sighed, looking down at the creature. "This, for instance, is a recurring issue."

Felicia watched the scene, her anger waning as the absurdity of it all sank in. "You're supposedly immortal, and you can't handle a cat?" she asked, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips.

Grim looked at Felicia, his expression deadpan. "I've fought demons, and the darkest creatures of the night. But this... this fluffy little sadist is my nemesis."

As Grim faced Felicia in the dim light of the morning, her eyes were not just filled with anger, but with a readiness to pounce.

The misunderstanding had escalated, and now, it seemed, so would the physicality of their encounter.

"Look, I didn't—" Grim started, but Felicia was already moving, her instincts as the Black Cat kicking in.

"You think I was easy prey, well think again" she snarled, launching herself at him with a grace that belied her fury.

Grim, his reflexes honed from years of combat, dodged to the side. "I don't think of you as anything...plus you're too old for me," he quipped, but his focus was razor-sharp.

"..."

Out of all the things he could have said, that was probably the worst thing he could have said...

"That's it, I'm going to fucking kill you, you little rapist shit..."

She was formidable, and even without her suit and gear, she was a force.

Felicia's fist swiped through the air where Grim's face had been a moment before. "I want answers NOW!!!"

"I'm trying to give them," Grim countered, ducking under another precise jab. "But we seem to be having a communication breakdown."

She flipped backwards, putting distance between them, her white cat watching with wide eyes from atop the bookshelf. "Then talk fast," she demanded.

Grim held up his hands, a universal sign of parley. "You were out cold, some men were attacking you and I saved you, then I brought you here to be safe. That's it."

Felicia eyed him warily, her body still coiled for a fight. "And why should I trust you?"

"Because if I wanted to hurt you, we wouldn't be having this delightful conversation," Grim replied, sincerity cutting through the sarcasm for once.

"Plus if nothing else, you can check those cameras of yours, they'll tell the whole story," Grim said painting at the cameras that were all over the house.

The tension hung between them, charged and waiting. Then, as if on cue, the white cat leapt down, landing squarely on Grim's head, its claws ensnared in his hair.

Grim winced but didn't react further, an eyebrow raised. "See? Your cat trusts me. Sort of."

Felicia's posture relaxed fractionally, a laugh escaping her despite the situation. "She's a terrible judge of character."

Grim carefully extricated the cat, setting it gently on the ground. "Let's start over, shall we? I'm Grim. And you're not punching me, so I take it we're at least not enemies."

Felicia crossed her arms, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. "For now, Grim. But I'm watching you."

"As you should," Grim nodded.

The air cleared as the absurdity of their situation sank in, and Felicia's stance softened. "Alright, Grim," she said, her voice steady now. "Let's talk."

"Before that...you should cover yourself up, your robe got loose."

Felicia looked down and noticed she was completely exposed again, she quickly covered herself and glared at Grim who sighed and looked at the kitty gnawing on his shoulder.

"Women...am I right??"

"(¬_¬)" ( Side Eye...)