Her distrust burned as bright as the sun through storm clouds after a heavy rain. Like it or not, he could see her eying him from the corner of his eyes, though he tried to act like he didn't notice, feigning interest in what she said.
Then her final statement hit home, razzled him. Were he a cat, his fur might have stood up on end in offense. The feelings went through to Maneki, whose fur did rise.
"I wasn't purring at you!" he cried, rounding on her, arms up in the air in exasperation. Why did people not understand? Noticing his rise in temperament, he tried to calm himself just as quickly as the outburst, lowering his arms. He gave a loud sigh of frustration and gestured at Maneki. "She was purring at you. Not me. I got the brunt end of it."
He ran his hand through his hair, other hand on his hip. "Maneki and I share thoughts, feelings, senses. What she feels, I feel. Most of the time. Sometimes I can shut it out, but she jumped in too quickly, like I said earlier. I didn't have time." Babbling. He was babbling. He just didn't want her to think of him like . . . like that. "And you're not strange. You're beautiful."
<And she has nice hands,> Maneki said, peering up at him with an unreadable expression, almost like mischief. All traces of guilt were gone. <It's what you're thinking. I thought it, too.
While he loved Maneki, he definitely wanted to strangle her right now.
"What was the question again?"
