After Wesley finished his map, I shrug on a jacket and go to find myself a Muffin. I pull my hood up as I walk outside, a futile attempt at hiding my face. I hold up the hand-drawn map to my face, trying to make out the poorly drawn directions.

‘The fuck does this say?’ I think, trying to decipher if the rectangle in the corner is my apartment building or if Wesley took some creative liberties while drawing this. Deciding that’s what it must be, I take a left, following the dotted line Wesley had drawn for me.

After many more minutes of following the map, I ended up in an alleyway near where Wesley and I had our first “conversation”. Makes sense, now that I think about it, he wasn’t just being creepy, he was probably looking for Muffin or something. 

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear a soft meow. I look down and see a small brown cat with a round white spot at the top of its head, looking up at me expectantly. So this must be Muffin, she is pretty cute. I sigh and crouch down to the kitten's level. I stick my hand out for her to sniff.  She nuzzles against my outstretched hand. I guess that means she likes me. I pick up the soft brown kitten and put her in the pocket of my inner jacket. 

Now it’s time to get back home. I don’t like being outside to begin with, and with the threat I’m currently dealing with, I hate it even more. Back to the list of things I hate, at the very top is гордиться, or pride and glory if you translate it to English. For the sake of simplicity, I always called them P.A.G. and in case you haven’t caught on, P.A.G. is the mysterious ‘person’ that had threatened me, except it’s not a person, it’s an organization, and a dangerous one at that.

I start walking back in the direction I came, peaking around each corner before proceeding. You can never be too safe, plus, I’m currently carrying precious cargo, courtesy of Wesley. I really hope this cat is worth the trouble of risking my position getting leaked to P.A.G., but if this cat is what it takes to make sure Wesley doesn’t throw himself in danger's way, then so be it.

I round the final corner before my apartment building, clutching the ball of fur hidden in my jacket close to my chest. That’s when I see it, a spray-painted message on the side of my building. There were no words, but the message was clear, a big red eye wearing a crown. They had found me, but the real question is, will they strike me here, knowing that it could draw attention from the government, or will they wait and catch me when I’m alone? Only time will tell, and I hope that for once in my life, things will go my way, because just like before, it’s no longer just my life on the line.

An impatient meow snaps me out of my depressive spiral, and I look down at the brown and white head peeking out at me. So needy, this cat definitely belongs to Wesley, poking its head into whatever it feels like. Not wanting to dwell on this moment for any longer, I head inside and climb the stairs, stopping on the top floor, and open the door to my apartment.

Wesley jumps when he hears me opening the door. “Did you find her?” He asks excitedly, before I’ve even shut the door all the way. I nod, pull the little ball of fur out from my jacket, and hold her out for Wesley to take. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Wesley exclaims, taking Muffin from my hands and nuzzling her. “You’re the best, Edi!” Wesley says, turning his attention back to me, a grateful smile spread across his face.

This catches me off guard, and I avert my gaze. I’ve never been good with compliments of any kind, and hearing that from Wesley feels weird. It’s not like I cured cancer or something, so why is he saying that? Such a simple act as what I had done doesn’t warrant a compliment to the level at which I just received.

I quickly do basic sign language for ‘thank you’, one of the required terms for all people to learn before coming to The Colony. Just like English, I got lucky and already knew basic English, so the process wasn’t as hard for me as it was for others.

I take off my jacket, hang it up on its rack, and head to the kitchen, still avoiding eye contact with Wesley. I glance over momentarily and see him sitting on the floor playing with Muffin. A faint smile pulls at my lips before I look away. I can’t afford to keep getting distracted like this, that’s when they’ll strike, when my guard is down. Noticing that Wesley was still in his personal ‘clothing’, I sigh. It’s starting to get cold out, and he’s going to get sick if he keeps wearing those rags. 

I go to my bedroom and grab a green t-shirt that I had only worn a couple of times and a pair of old cargo pants I never wear anymore. These should suffice. I just hope they fit him.

I go back out to the living room and toss the clothes at Wesley. It hits him in the face, and he pulls them off his head and looks at me, confused. For some reason, I think I was pretty clear with my message. 

“What’s this for?” Wesley asks. Bruh, be so for real. It’s for you to wear, dummy. I wonder if Wesley knows common sign language, which, back on Earth, was just ASL. Putting this to the test, I sign ‘put them on’, when realization blooms across Wesley's face, I mentally fist pump, this means less writing, let’s go. 

“So…uh… where should I change?” Wesley asks while examining the clothes I had given him. I point to the bathroom. I feel like it should’ve been obvious, but whatever. 

Once Wesley finishes changing, I hand him a sheet of paper with three options on it, ramen, pizza, or ice cream. “Uh…Ramen?” He says, though it sounds more like a question than a statement. I nod and head to the kitchen. I grab two packets of microwave ramen and get to work. I glance back at Wesley, and it looks like he is disappointed. What? Did he think I was some master chief or something? That boy will never make sense to me.

The microwave beeps, signaling the ramen is done. I take the cups out and move over to the living room, handing Wesley a cup as I sit next to him. I don’t waste any time and start eating. Wesley looks at me as if he wants to say something. I look at him and tilt my head questioningly. 

“Uh…sorry, I didn’t mean to stare… It’s just been a while since someone has cooked for me.” Oh, I didn’t think about it like that. I’m just trying to make sure he stays alive. Unsure how to respond, I pat his head gently. Wesley smiles at me, that means I must’ve done something right. “So uh thanks.” He says before digging in. I turn back to my own cup of ramen, wondering what the hell I had just gotten myself into.