The Cat-man

From where I was, it was my secret place to escape Sam's useless chatter. It was like a sort of surveillance post. I have an overview of almost half of the campus, and observing people from a distance is attractive without applying myself emotionally.

This dear Sam sticks to me like a second skin I can't get rid of, so that's how it became my refuge. And it's more fun than listening to her talk all day anyway.

From my hiding place or my post, as I call it, I can observe the comings and goings of others without being spotted by them.

It was unusual, it was impossible not to notice him, the first time I spotted him he was, as usual, listening to music without paying attention to others, but you couldn't miss him.

He's the kind of person who doesn't go unnoticed. He is cute; if only I could use that adjective to describe him, of course, but what is important is that his beauty is different from mine.

He is manly and gives off a strong masculine presence and confidence, which causes people to turn on his path to look at him. He's the kind of perfect son my dad would love to have.

This tall, dark-haired boy towers a good few feet above the other students he meets on his way as he progresses toward his destination without bothering to pay attention for even a second to his surroundings.

It's funny to see their faces when they come up to him. They all raise their heads towards him without exception to see who is shadowing them so distant. Strangely, he never reacts.

Does he despise them because he knows how handsome and irresistible he can be in those outfits he seems to like a little too much?

Is he too sure of himself, or does he not see them? Is he one of those narcissistic little shitheads like my dad who tramples on others because he feels his place is above them and doesn't care about them as long as he's okay?

Anyway, it's hard to say without knowing him.

And there's this thing in me that tells me he doesn't even know how attractive he is.

Sometimes the girls rush behind him and try by all means to touch or jostle him to pretend to apologize to him afterward, to start a conversation.

But he doesn't pay any slightest attention to them. I would have gladly opted for a robot if his gestures weren't so flexible, orderly, and above all, well-paced.

This thought makes me smile, I imagine myself saying it to his face, and I almost burst into a peal of laughter.

If I base myself on my observation, he is solid. He does not have big muscles. Still, I can easily guess under his eternal army joggers and black or white T-shirt hiding a lovely body. With a belly too flat with a V-shape line, six packs as hard as a piece of wood, and a firm and hard butt. His arms are beautiful and muscular but not like my father's; he is sexier, not bulky. I chuckled at thinking of him like that.

If it were Sam telling me about one of her famous encounters to make me react, I would have laughed in her face, and asked her to stop reading those mushy novels, because he looks like one of those charismatic characters straight out of a Barbara or Guy novel.

From the musculature of his arms, it is easy to guess that he regularly goes to a gym. So, how can someone who cares about his physical appearance be so introverted and close to others?

I don't understand this point at all. Usually, they are braggers most of the time. They don't need someone to ask them to show their body's assets to the whole world. Always ready to put on a show seeking praise and admiration.

His repeated visits to these places, regulated like clockwork, prompted me to pay particular attention to this mysterious person.

We usually don't take our courses every day and at the same time, and even less in one place; it depends on the subject. Sometimes we find ourselves mixed with all kinds of careers, but he comes here, always at the same time.

That said, I never got to see him leave the building. Either I had class, or it was time to freshen up.

I wash up twice a day and my face twice during the day. While using gentle cleansing lotions that help hydrate my skin and retain its freshness and elasticity.

Once I followed him, but it was as if he had flown away once inside.

Until I discovered his nest, if you knew what my surprise was when I came across this view, a pretty little terrace. And this swing that I can't live without now, I even got myself one for my room; when I can't sleep in the evening, I settle there with a book and a cup of tea, sometimes with a glass of milk.

And there are also many books on fascinating subjects like quantum physics, the evolution of technology, mathematics, and many theorems.

And there is another complicated subject like DNA coding and so on. But seriously, how did he do it?

The first few weeks were sweltering; believe me, today, this little terrace has become the best place to take a nap. These last few days, I have come straight up here to escape this crazy talkative magpie Sam who is becoming increasingly demanding. There is such peace there.

I am delighted with my find. It is a good catch. With a light heart, I whistle a Happy Little Tune while shuffling from foot to foot like a puppy in front of his favorite toy to entice his owner to play with him.

"So, you are there!" Rose, a very calm and slightly serious voice behind me.

I jumped at the sound of the voice, and a sharp cry escaped my throat. A disgraceful cry at that, hmm. The scream came out of my mouth involuntarily as I simultaneously jumped onto the couch, which was enormous, luckily.

That would have been a disaster! Otherwise, I could have missed it in my momentum as I made a very high leap with such force. So I would undoubtedly find myself face down on the floor in an even more bizarre position than I do now.

"Thank you, father, for your attention," I heard myself say sarcastically between my teeth.

I do not know myself with such zeal and vivacity; however, it has been a long time. It must be said that jumping with these weights attached to my ankles pays off.

I turn towards the person like a wild beast ready to attack, to face the intruder who nearly killed me with a heart attack.

In my momentum that I don't even have a word to describe, my hair that I wear half-long with a gradient on the sides is easy to mess up.

They now find themselves in an unimaginable mess covering my eyes and mouth. I struggle like a poor devil to put them in order so I can have two words with this brat who dare come up all the way here to put him back in his place.

"You didn't have the right to come up here, it's a private place, and the public is not allowed." Without even looking at who I'm dealing with, eager to have those two words with my unwanted guest. I throw at the top of my lungs, "what are you doing here?"

I hear a semblance of a minor, muffled laugh in the voice, which retorts in its turn: "Say the person who deliberately moved into someone else's lair without permission, but I am glad that you know it."

I abruptly stop my movements, letting myself fall dramatically onto the couch to hide my face. At this moment, I would have been very grateful to nature if she could help me disappear right away.

And on top of that, as he decided to come back here, my heart started racing so damn fast in its ribcage that I felt like I was dying.

"It's him." I hear myself whispering under my breath. I want to scream with joy, although I don't know why, and luckily no sound comes out of my crazy mouth either.

I'm too ashamed to face him now.

What's going on? What's happening to me? Why am I so damn happy to hear him out so much? But most importantly, how am I going to get out of here?

"Isn't this still my little piece of paradise here?"

I screamed again, this time like an absolute hysterical madwoman. He silently approached the couch and whispered these few words almost in my ear. I can feel his warm breath all over my lobe and neck.

I didn't hear him approach me; just as he came up here not long ago, he didn't make any noise when walking. It's like he's floating in the direction of the wind.

I try to calm myself down and straighten up, straightening out my hair and shirt, which are all wrinkled now. What a mess!

He also straightened up and went to sit in the swing facing me without taking his eyes off me, I managed to keep my calm, and with a pout, I threw him these sentences that he didn't even deign to respond.

"Do you take yourself for a cat? Why are you creeping around? Have you ever been told that it's terrible to startle people like this? I felt scared to death and almost gave up my soul."

I continue to curse like crazy without him daring to try to place a word or answer me. He sat there calmly and stared at me without saying a word, as if he was looking for something in my eyes.

Finally, he drops in my face these few words that will surely disturb my existence forever. With an excessive calm that one would have said he was a predator on the hunt and the severe and soft intonation of his voice does nothing to help the situation, which is already a disaster:

"You know, the last time you were exceptionally adorable and sweet despite this confidence that emerged from you, but today... you are... how to put it exactly... aggressive, less gentle, like bittersweet."

I felt these words pour over my naked body like an ice bath. Yes, I said naked because he completely undressed me with his sleeping eyes while pronouncing these words. It looked like he was between sleeping and waking—those damn gray-green eyes.

I jerked back and instinctively crossed my arms over my chest to cover myself from his perverse gaze, which made him raise an eyelash in astonishment.

I suddenly swallowed some saliva that went wrong, and I started coughing a little. He made a gesture to approach me. I stopped him without looking up at him with a wave of my hand. What nerve He has, huh? I assure you that I feel ridiculous, but, well.

These words give me the vibe of a cold shower. I don't know why. I feel like I have carried light-years of burden on my chest and shoulders to drop them off at their destination finally.

It may be because he is the first person, apart from my mom, to tell me outright that he finds me sweet without insulting me.

I feel the boil caused by the release of my blood vessels, my blood circulation, which is revitalized by making my blood circulate more quickly to flow towards my cheeks. And I feel myself blasting into a thousand bursts of light from the inside.

My head is spinning, which makes me feel dizzy, and my cheeks are on fire. With a staggering step, I get up from the sofa to flee from this place and hide the confusion invading me from the one who caused them.

I walked past the couch to avoid meeting his gaze while keeping my head down like a child caught in the act. I was already halfway there when he came back with another sentence.

"And there you go, ladies and gentlemen, the charming and exquisite little creature fled in his turn."

Like a circus entertainer, I feel a burning rage rising inside me that is unknown to me, and I seethe like a cauldron ready to explode. I rushed to the door to get out of his field of vision.

I leaned against the wall and searched my thoughts for an escape from all the rage that consumed me. I never got mad, not even when my dad did his dirty tricks on me. And here I am, about to explode.

The worse thing, I don't know why since I don't feel insulted by what he said. Before, I was a little happy, and now it's just the opposite. Why am I pissed, exactly?

I pictured my father with his incredible voice saying to me with a satisfied smile: "Consider yourself lucky, Ewen; at least he didn't say: "La damsel fled towards the exit like a distressed princess who needed a knight to come to her rescue."

Just the thought of him being satisfied with the situation I've found myself in brings me back to myself, and I begin to have regular heartbeats. I pulled myself together, put some order in my clothes, and held my head high.

I can't run away from him. I've never done that before. I say to myself, displaying a radiant smile. I am Ewen; I never run away.