The following afternoon, the bell over the door chimed as Nico stepped inside Sunbeam Cat Shelter, shaking off the city heat. Chloe glanced up from the reception desk, ponytail pointing at the ceiling as always.

"Hey, Nico," she said. "Good to see you back. Had a good weekend?"

"Hi," he said. "I had a... productive weekend. Thought some quiet would be nice."

She gave him a knowing hum then waved him toward the back. "Ben's in the catio. You know the way."

The space was bright with the afternoon light. Nico’s eyes found Ben before his brain consciously decided to look. He was kneeling, restocking food bowls. His shirt today was a deep emerald, which made his hair look even more copper in the light. Prunya's green eyes darted from Ben to Nico.

Before he could decide whether to announce himself or quietly melt into the floor, Ben turned. Nico’s heart did a quick, stupid jump, but Ben's expression lit up.

"Hey," Ben said. "You came back."

"Yeah," Nico replied, immediately overthinking the one syllable. He cleared his throat. "Mondays are suddenly more... appealing."

Ben’s mouth hitched into a half-grin that suggested he had caught the implication and was choosing to be merciful. "I made coffee," he said, nodding toward a metal bottle on a nearby table. "Only realized after pouring that I had made too much. Want some?"

Nico stared, attention stuck somewhere between Ben’s large chest and his face. "Oh. Yeah, thanks."

Ben crossed the space and sat at the table with Nico, who took a careful sip, grateful for something to do with his hands. "Are you going to read me your diary?" Ben asked, nodding to the pad Nico had placed on the table.

Nico huffed out a laugh. "It's my sketchbook. I draw on it. I do freelance illustration and design work, mostly book covers."

"Book covers are cool. Do you ever sketch for fun or is that illegal once it becomes your job?"

"I try," Nico said. "I thought I could... I don't know, draw the cats while I'm here."

As if summoned, Prunya trotted over, tail high. She pressed her head firmly against Nico’s shin and let out a familiar, bossy meow.

"PRU-NYAAA," Nico murmured, bending to scratch her. She flopped onto her side theatrically, showing him her belly before swatting his fingers when he took the bait.

"Oh, she got you," Ben said, laughing. "Classic Prunya move."

They ended up on the floor, Nico cross-legged with Prunya claiming his lap like a throne, Ben nearby with his back against the wall. Nico set his sketchbook on his knee, pencil hovering for a second before the lines started to appear almost on their own. Minutes slipped by.

"Can I see?" Ben asked after a while.

Nico hesitated, then turned the sketchbook around. Prunya stared up from the paper: smug, relaxed, one paw lazily extended. The pencil strokes were quick but sure, catching the exact tilt of her head and the notch in her ear.

"Damn," Ben said, taking the sketchbook carefully. "You truly drew her. This is... it looks like you pressed her onto the page."

Heat crawled up Nico’s neck. He was used to people liking his work, but something about Ben's matter-of-fact praise hit harder than it should have. "Thanks," Nico said, suddenly very interested in the tip of his pencil.

They sat in comfortable quiet for a bit, cleaning up and filling water bowls. "So what do you do when you're not here?" Nico asked.

"I work at a garden center just outside of town," Ben said. "It’s nice. Low drama. Plants don't send you angry emails or organize endless meetings. They just die slowly and make you feel guilty."

Nico snorted. "Relatable."

"I do a bit of everything there. Helping people, lifting heavy bags of soil, making sure nobody kills the succulents on day one. Outside of that it’s... board games, reading, trying not to buy more houseplants than my apartment can physically hold."

"A noble but doomed cause," Nico said. "I mostly work from home, so it's just me and my laptop and whatever monstrosity of a client brief lands in my inbox. The shelter is... a nice change of scenery."

Ben's features softened. "I'm glad you're here. The cats are great conversationalists, but they never help refill the food stations and don't like coffee."

Something in Nico loosened at the words. "I'm happy to help. And to be judged by cats instead of clients."

"They judge based on lap quality. You seem to be doing pretty well so far."

Nico glanced down. Prunya had stretched fully across his legs, completely boneless, one paw resting on the edge of the sketchbook as if staking a legal claim. "High standards. Good to know I pass for at least one demographic."

The rest of the shift passed in that same soft rhythm. Every time Nico looked up, Ben was somewhere in the room, moving steadily through small, necessary tasks. Eventually, Chloe popped her head in. "Closing in fifteen. Start bribing them to get off your laps now."

Reluctantly, Nico coaxed Prunya onto a nearby cushion and stood, stretching. The light outside was fading. A pleasant tiredness settled over him, the kind that came from doing something that actually mattered to someone, even if that someone was an entitled fur ball.

"I have to rush today," he said, checking his phone. "I'm meeting some friends."

Ben nodded, leaning the broom against the wall. "No problem. Thanks for your help today. I'm glad you actually came back."

"Me too. It was... quiet." Nico looked up to Ben's eyes. "See you tomorrow."

He stepped out of the catio, waved goodbye to Chloe, and headed towards Romy's place.

***

Romy’s apartment was the exact opposite of Nico’s: lived-in chaos on purpose. Every wall held some kind of art: prints, photos, a framed concert ticket. The NJRY crew had claimed their usual spots: Nico and Yani shared the sofa, Romy sat cross-legged on a large armchair, and Jamie walked back and forth in the living room, a slice of pizza held like a prop in a tragic monologue.

"I'm doomed," Jamie announced between bites. "My dating app is a barren wasteland populated entirely by headless torsos and guys who list 'crypto' as a personality trait."

"You say that every week," Romy said. "My husband is away for the entire summer for a residency, and I'm not this dramatic."

Yani wiped a smudge of sauce from his thumb. "Honestly, it sounds exactly like my roommate search. Lydia's moving out. I guess this is why I don't date. I'm seeing a potential roommate tomorrow. He says he's a go-go dancer at Velvet."

Jamie blinked, pizza crust forgotten in his hand. "Velvet? The one with the cages? You have to let him move in. For science."

"I need rent money, Jamie, not glitter on my toothbrush," Yani said, unimpressed. "Though he claims he's 'very tidy'."

Jamie groaned. "See? This is why I should stay at Nico's forever. He has a roof, Wi-Fi, and books with pretty pictures."

"You can borrow the roof and the Wi‑Fi. You are not adding ‘freeloader’ to my aesthetic," Nico muttered, reaching for another slice.

His phone buzzed where it lay face-down on the coffee table, cutting through Jamie’s complaining. Nico glanced at the screen, expecting a delivery notification or a client email. Instead, an unknown number lit up the display.

Hey, it's Ben from the shelter. You left your sketchbook here. I put it in the reception desk drawer so it would be safe.

For a second, the room went blurry at the edges. The message was simple and practical, but it felt like a warm hand on his shoulder. He read the text again. Then again. A slow, unguarded smile pulled at his mouth. He pictured Ben noticing the forgotten sketchbook, picking it up, and deciding to stash it safely.

"You have the dopey look of a man who's about to get his heart completely obliterated," Yani said from the other end of the sofa. "Who is he?"

Nico kept his eyes on the screen. "It's no one."

"Oh, it's totally the guy from the shelter." Jamie commented.

Nico's thumb hovered over the keyboard, mind already sketching out a reply. He typed, deleted, and retyped, trying to land somewhere between casual and grateful.

Thanks for saving it. You have no idea how much I'd panic if I lost that.

He stared at the sentence for one more heartbeat, then hit send.