🐈🐈🐈

When I arrive home I'm still cringing from what I had to do to save Taehyung from Namjoon's wrath. He hadn't wanted to give me the video in the first place but I'd practically begged him for it. My cats needed that cat tower, dammit.

"Oppa."

"Aaaah!" I stop in front of the door and shiver, feeling itchy all over. Since when do I act cute to get out of stuff?...alright I do that all the time. But...oppa. While the memory disgusts me, my heart does perform a little dance when I remember how thrilled Namjoon was when I said it. Maybe I'll call him that more often if it makes him that happy. But only in private.

I wrestle with the keys for a moment before finally getting it into the lock and stepping inside. As I slip off my shoes I listen for the tinkling bell of BooBoo's collar, fully expecting him to greet me at the door, as per usual.

Yet I hear nothing.

A small stab of fear hits me when the memory of the last time he didn't greet me comes back. Trying not to panic I walk quickly into the living room and call out for him.

A breath of relief rushes out of me when I see him on the couch...in stupid Ronald's lap.

What?!?

What kind of sorcery is this?!?

Both Ronald and BooBoo look up as I enter the room, the latter jumping down quickly to run my way. Stunned, I pick my favorite kitty up but stare at stupid Ronald. Since when was he not terrified of my children?

And how dare you touch my cat with your stupid hands, stupid Ronald.

"Stu-" the moniker I'd given him in my own head started to come out of my mouth before I realize what I'm doing. "Ahjussi. I thought you were afraid of them?"

One side of his mouth turns upwards in a half smile. "I went to therapy...I...wanted you to be comfortable when I was in your home. Obviously you wouldn't be if you always had to hide your pets from me."

This admission surprises me, to say the least. I'd never known he'd actually cared that much. He and I speak and aren't necessarily on bad terms, even if I hold his cat phobia against him. That's not to say I like him, either. He and dad are disgustingly lovey dovey with other and do nothing to hide it. Old people love is nasty.

I wasn't kidding when I said I was childish.

What should I say to him now? Thanks? Congratulations? Before I can think of anything to respond with he speaks up first.

"Y/n. Can we talk?"

This sentence gives me the urge to flee. Those words are heavy and speak of a big announcement or really bad news I don't want to hear or—why am I sitting down?!?

Madam Sparklepuss walks in as I settle into the couch, across from his seat in the armchair. When he sees her coming he tenses up the slightest bit, but then just as quickly relaxes. His chest moves up and down as deep breaths are taken in and released. Was he serious about the therapy? It's touching, I'll admit. As much as I hate his stupid ass for disliking cats in the first place.

Whatever he wants to say, there's still an ominous feeling to it but now that I have two cats in my lap, I'm less inclined to care about whatever else is going on in the world.

"Y/n." stupid Ronald clears his throat and it's obvious he's nervous over what he's about to say. "I'm just going to spit it out. I came to ask for your permission. Your father and I...well, he doesn't know I'm here talking to you and doesn't know anything about this. So I want to take our relationship to the next level."

Oh god. Is he asking me permission to fuck my dad?!? What in the hell!

"Marriage for us isn't legal here," Ronald continues on, thankfully unaware of my idiotic thoughts, "so what I want is a commitment ceremony. And...moving in together."

Oh.

Oh.

I'm still trying to process what he's asking when he goes on.

"But I know that you and your father are close. You might have noticed that I never stay the night. That's because he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable. As I see it, committing to one another and moving in would be a huge difference in your life, so that's why I'm asking you first. If that's too big of a change for you right now, I can accept that and wait for him."

Wait for dad? Until when? Until I'm financially stable enough to move out? That's years down the road. Post high school and University. Possibly longer than that. He would wait for dad that long?

It's not like I never thought about it, but I did not realize their relationship was that strong. Although I guess I should have known that sooner. Ronald was the only person dad ever dated that he introduced me to. But this...it's obvious he really loves him. He even went to therapy to be comfortable around my cats.

What the hell Ronald, since when were you this normal?

"It's up to you." We exchange awkward smiles. The sincerity in his gaze isn't lost on me. "It's alright if you say no right now. Like I said, I can wait for him."

Shit, Ronald, don't throw important decisions into my hands! I'm seventeen and stupid! Emphasis on stupid.

Dammit. This is dad's happiness he's asking me to decide. Do I say no and make them wait, and live in peace here with my dad and my cats like always? Or do I say yes, and then have to live with stupid Ronald? That would be...annoying.

The childish side of me wants to keep my father to myself. It had always been us two. We have scrabble night every third Friday of the month and every time he has a day off he makes me breakfast and we eat French toast until we get sick. Every father's day he forces me to go bowling with him because for once I can't say no. When I'm sick he makes me the best porridge and sings me to sleep. During times when I'm out and unable to, he feeds my cats, and vice versa I water his plants.

Now there's a third person, an almost stranger and it's like he wants to take all that away. With him there, it won't just be dad and I anymore. It'll be dad, Ronald, and me. Ronald. Right there in the middle. We'd fallen into a comfortable pattern over the years and the thought of sharing it with someone else, or possibly breaking it, hurts.

In the back of my mind I know I won't be replaced. Still, that does nothing to quell the fear in my heart.

I don't want to lose another parent.

"Don't answer me right now. Please think about it."

Trust me, I'm going to overthink this into the ground. All the while creating a thousand scenarios that will never happen and convincing myself they're in the realm of probability.

Long after Ronald has left I sit there, absentmindedly petting my cats and torturing myself with these thoughts until I come to one conclusion.

I need my best friend.

Ignoring the time because I know she'll still be up, I call her. After the fifth ring she answers, out of breath.

What?

"Bitch I thought you forgot about me."

"Ji-ji why are you out of breath?" I ask, curious, but not sure if I want the answer.

"I'm strengthening my core, you pervert."

"Your...core?"

"Really, what would your boyfriend, aka the guy you've ditched your best friend for, say about you being such a pervert?"

"He doesn't have any room to talk, honestly." I've yet to find actual evidence, but my cat senses tell me that Namjoon is a huge perv and I refuse to back off from this stance.

Eun-ji giggles. "Do tell. So how big is Namjoon's dick?" Somehow she asks this in the most casual way, as if we were talking about the weather.

I stop myself from groaning, knowing I'll only sound like some sort of demented Chewbacca. "Thirty seven centimeters." I throw out a random number and then burst out laughing when I realize how big that is.

"I don't believe you." she laughs back. "In-guk's-"

"NOOO!" I scream so loud BooBoo and Madam Sparklepuss startle and jump out of my lap, but not without vengefully digging their claws in my thighs first. Fucking shit that hurt. "Eun-ji, the LAST thing I want to hear is what my friend's privates look like."

Why do I have to explain that to her?

"FINE." she exaggerates the word. "Why'd you call?"

🐈🐈🐈

Dad's day off French toast was a tradition we'd set into place years ago. Though these days they are few and far between, I still firmly believe my dad is the best chef in the world. For me, his food isn't just good food, it's also comfort food.

I'm more than nervous for the inevitable conversation but I refuse to chicken out. Stupid Ronald could have been selfish and asked dad without bringing me into it but no, he had to go and be a good person and consider my feelings too.

I don't think he knew that this would be such a huge point of stress for me. Then again, maybe he did. That I'm responsible for my dad's happiness is more than a little intimidating. He's a good father and he's taken care of me for years. He's never failed to be there for me.

But I'm selfish. And emotional. I even cried about it last night when talking with Eun-ji and wondered why I was being such a crybaby over it. Then I started my period this morning and that question was answered.

I knew I wasn't a whiny bitch.

Tears wanted to spring to my eyes once more when I took the first bite of my breakfast. Memories of all the times dad had made this for me flashed through my mind and caused me to be unnecessarily emotional. The thought of Ronald sitting here at the kitchen table with us and eating my favorite breakfast and looking stupid came to me and the tears were gone only to be replaced with anger.

Ronald, you bastard. Look what you've done to me.

Between work and school, cats, and boyfriends, we hardly had time throughout the week to spend together and know what was going on in each other's lives. This was the time where usually, dad asked about my grades and friends. Today all the questions were about Namjoon.

"When you walk home together, does he walk with the street at his side, or on the inside of the sidewalk?"

What kind of question is that? "Next to the street. Actually," I add, realizing something, "he's really adamant about walking on that side. Why?"

"Does he open doors for you?" he asks, ignoring my question completely.

"Yes." He holds every door, holds my hand when I go down stairs, and hovers like a mother hen if I ever have to stand on my tiptoes to reach something. It's really annoying. Another wave of hormonal rage washes over me at the reminder of these actions.

"Has he tried anything ungentlemanly?"

If you count licking my neck as ungentlemanly then yeah. Not to mention I've caught him staring at my ass way too many times to be an accident.

"No. He usually asks for permission to hold my hand, even." He did at first, and still does with a questioning look. But he never asks for permission to hug me which just seems backwards.

"What are his grades like?"

"He's got the top grades in the school."

"What do his parents do?"

"His mom is a photographer and his dad is an author."

"What about his hobbies?"

Stalking me. Smelling me. "He likes to read and he listens to a lot of music. And he likes learning. Boring, book smart stuff."

Dad appears satisfied with these answers. He takes a huge gulp of coffee before assaulting me with his next question.

"Are you using protection?"

"DAD!"

"I don't want to have this conversation either, but it's important." It was obvious he didn't by the way he's refusing to look me in the eye, not that I want him to. Ground, please just swallow me up right now. "I want what's best for you," he doesn't move his gaze from his coffee cup, "and children at seventeen is not what's best for you."

It's not in my best interest to debate for the young parent population, but the argument pops into my head, unbidden. I push the idea from my mind before answering, wondering what would be the fastest way to get out of this talk.

"I'm not active. Dad, you know I hate kids."

I'm a terrible person because that's true. They're loud and sticky. Why are they always sticky? On top of that, they cry. I'd never cared for kids to begin with but the one time I babysat for my cousin when he was two had sealed the deal for me. He cried when he was hungry, he cried when I gave him a banana, he cried when the tv was off, he cried when the tv was on. He screamed bloody murder when I told him to stop chasing my cats and then, you got it. He cried. And then the little shit bit me.

"You don't have to love kids to enjoy sex." Dad says casually while I spit out my food.

"Well I don't like STDs either." I blurt out without putting an ounce of thought into it.

Dad's head jerks up to look at me. "Namjoon has an STD?"

This conversation has taken a strange turn.

"NO!" I nearly shout. "I'm just saying I wouldn't be active without protection."

I'm positive there's no way my boyfriend has any STDs since he informed me of how werewolves saved themselves for their mates. But wait. My brain begins to panic when I remember that you don't have to have intercourse to get herpes. You could get that from kissing!

Did he kiss someone before me? The idea brings another wave of wrath and a mountain of jealousy.

I have zero room to judge. Years ago, me and my previous boyfriend kissed several times. But fuck it I'm hormonal and I'm going to be angry for no reason.

How dare Namjoon kiss some bitch before he even met me!

Breakfast doesn't taste good anymore

Even so, if I said this was the last thing I wanted to be talking about right now, I would be lying. Stupid Ronald's request comes back to me and so I rush in, just so long as it gets me out of this conversation.

"Dad...are you happy?" My voice is low and serious, and the sound of it brings him to meet my gaze.

"Of course, Y/nbear. I'm happy. Why do you ask?"

"I..." I bring my legs up on the chair to rest my chin on my knees. "Why are you happy?"

He studies me for a moment, trying to read the intent behind the words. After a stretch of silence threatens to make the moment awkward, he replies. "I'm happier now than I have been in a long time. My job is good. I'm finally getting paid an amount I've strived for years to achieve. My daughter is healthy, doing good in school, and also seems happy. For once I'm in a healthy relationship where I truly feel loved and appreciated. And I'm busy, but I still got to have breakfast with my favorite girl today."

Fuck you Ronald. Taking my dad away from me.

When breakfast is through and we're watching RuPaul's Drag Race together in the living room, I pull out my phone and send a quick text stupid Ronald's way. I only had his number for emergency purposes in case I couldn't reach dad for whatever reason, and I'd added him as .

You know, natural.

Edited 9/20/21