Werewolves Don't Cry (BoyxBoy) [On Hold]

4| Grumpy Old Cat

In a beautiful neighborhood with large green lawns, a Jaguar Sports rumbled down the street. The sky was clear except for a few scattered clouds upon the purple horizon. The brightness of the emerging full moon reflected against the blue paint of the car.

The car passed a few homes until it parked at a luxury house with colorful flowers, decorating its windows and front porch. The engine ceased and the lights turned off.

The driver pushed the car door open and revealed himself as white-haired, blue-eyed Jesse. Before he slammed the door shut, he held a plain bakery box in one hand and a set of keys in the other. He stepped toward the front porch and from there he faced the door, jingling the keys inside the lockset until it unlocked.

Jesse entered the house, grinning like a dog eating real bacon, not that artificial crap. The scent of lemon tea occupied the soft-colored living room. He closed the door behind him and slid the keys into his pocket. The pastel blue sofa, white furniture, and floral wallpaper never failed to fill him with that cozy feeling of family.

"Mom," he chanted. "I'm home."

While walking around, Jesse nearly tripped on something that yelped. He looked down and there was a big, fluffy, white cat with a not-so-impressed expression on her face.

"Oops. Sorry, Dee Dee." He leaned down to give her a pat. "Didn't see ya there."

She vibrated a low growl under her breath as a warning for Jesse to not come any closer. When his hand almost touched her, the growl got louder and her ears folded back.

"Woah." Jesse backed off with his hand up high. "Alright. No need to get aggressive." He left her alone and continued his way around the house. "Grumpy ol' cat," he mumbled. "It's not like I stepped on her on purpose."

"Mom?"

He entered the spacious kitchen where he found an elegant lady in a rosy silk pajama, sitting at the opposite side of the island.

The lady had a flower-patterned teacup in her hand. She was enjoying a book placed in front of her when the voice of Jesse caught her attention. She lifted her head and the most beautiful, motherly smile lit up her face.

"There's mah lil pumpkin," she said, gleefully.

Her thick hair was pulled into a messy bun with silky blonde curls loose at the sides. Azure eyes sparkled behind reading glasses as soon as they met Jesse's.

"Oh, no, mom. You ain't drinkin' that."

A frown of confusion replaced her delight to see him. "Why not?"

She adored her tea, and for someone to tell her that she shouldn't drink it was asking for trouble. Even if it was her own son.

"Well." Jesse raised the box in his hand and grinned. "Not without this."