"Hey you, Blacky! Back off from the host!" Agent Whiskers bared its fangs with the ferocity of a lion.. or so it believed.
In its heart, it brimmed with confidence. 'This smug bastard will definitely be scared and back off now!'
Sophia: "..." So... this was the promised protection? Isn't it a little too lacking?
She cleared her throat and spoke inwardly, trying to sound composed.
'You should leave. You're…'
[I know, Host. I may be showing too much fierceness. However, such people can only be dealt with using pure intimidation.]
Sophia: "..."
A vein throbbed on her forehead. She kept her face neutral while yelling internally:
'Intimidation? You look like a...'
Her eyes drifted toward the cat's soft, jiggling stomach.
'...like a cat who hasn't eaten for days!'
[You mean bulldog? Because of my muscles? Don't worry, Host. With my biceps and claws, I can take him down easily.]
Sophia's gaze automatically moved to the round belly again.
Sophia"..." Great muscles indeed, she deadpanned.
Keith, meanwhile, had been watching this strange display with an expression of mild disinterest.
But the moment the orange tabby started flexing its claws and advanced toward his designer shoes, he acted.
In one swift motion, he pinched the cat by the scruff of its neck and lifted it effortlessly into the air.
Keith's eyes narrowed. "How dare you threaten me, you cheeseburger-fed furball?"
Agent Whiskers froze for a split second, then exploded.
"Cheeseburger? How dare you?! Put me down, you arrogant... I'll show you what happens when you fat-shame a rare breed like me!"
It flailed furiously, limbs kicking, tail thrashing.
Of course, to Keith, it all sounded like high-pitched "meow! meow! meow!"
Sophia: "..." Fat-shaming a cat? That's a new category of conflict I wasn't ready for.
She considered telling Whiskers it wasn't a rare breed...just a hungry tabby with delusions of grandeur... but seeing it dangling helplessly in Keith's hand... she couldn't bring herself to say it.
Pitiful. Very pitiful.
Keith grew increasingly irritated as the tabby squirmed in his grasp. With an annoyed grunt, he pinched harder at the scruff of the cat's neck.
"Ahhh! Host! Help! Please!" Agent Whiskers screeched internally. "This bastard is abusing an animal! I demand justice! I want to file a report! Ahhh!"
Its whiskers quivered as fat tears welled up in its round eyes.
Sophia's heart twisted.
Yes, Agent Whiskers was incompetent, overweight, delusional, and quite possibly the worst guardian she'd ever heard of…
But still, the tabby had come out to protect her.
Without thinking, she stepped forward and grabbed Keith's wrist. Her voice was steady. "Leave him."
The moment her fingers touched his skin, Keith's expression shifted to ice-cold.
"I don't like being touched without permission," he said, voice low and cutting like a blade.
Sophia's breath hitched. Those eyes...dark and unreadable....locked with hers, and for a brief second, she saw something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. She flinched and pulled her hand back, instinctively taking a step away.
Dangerous… too dangerous.
Then, as quickly as it came, his expression returned to calm. He released the cat, letting it drop onto the floor with a soft thud.
"It was nice meeting you, young lady," he said with a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Sophia stood frozen, the chill of his gaze still lingering on her skin.
Without a word, she scooped Agent Whiskers into her arms. The poor cat whimpered and buried its face in her chest, still trembling.
She reached into her other hand, pulled out the chocolate bar, and shoved it toward Keith.
"Here," she said with a forced smile. "May you trip and fall on the way."
Keith blinked at the unexpected curse, then chuckled lowly.
Sophia turned on her heel and walked away, holding Agent Whiskers tightly to her chest... too tightly, perhaps.
Agent Whiskers muttered in her head, voice weak,
[If you hadn't intervened, I would have punched him! I would've clawed his balls right off!]
Sophia: "..." Sure. Because terrified squealing counts as combat now.
She glanced down at Agent Whiskers, who was still clinging to her like a baby sloth.
His ears were flattened, and his tail puffed up like a bottle brush. Yeah, definitely not the picture of bravery.
For safety's sake and mental peace, Sophia decided to wait a bit before checking out.
No way was she risking another run-in with that icy psycho at the counter. Gorgeous or not, that man had all the red flags of a walking HR complaint.
Handsome men were dangerous. But handsome and cold-eyed? That was a serial killer starter pack.
Her curiosity might flirt with danger, but self-preservation still ran the show.
She kept one eye on the checkout area as she lingered near the magazines.
And maybe... just maybe... her little curse had worked.
Because right then, Keith... the epitome of elegance and grace, tripped near the checkout counter.
He didn't fall hard, just stumbled a little, catching himself before he face-planted. But for someone like him, that was practically a public scandal.