Watch with Glittering Eyes

The brown paper bags full of groceries crinkled in Travis’s arms as he walked down the dirt road to home. Thoughts of the Grand Council of High Magick and a seventh summon for Reckless Use of Magick and Vigilantism and today’s trial weighed heavy on his mind. He really hadn’t been worried, even if a guilty verdict held the chance of him being arrested. It went fine, of course—it always did—but he was glad to get it over and done with, and he’d be happy just to get home where he could brew some hazelnut soup. If he didn’t get talked into making fish, anyway. Again. Travis smiled when the chimney first peeked through the tops of the trees. The cottage was always a welcoming sight. The sight of home always made his chest fill with something warm and right. The home Travis grew up in with his late mother wasn’t located on a heavily populated or well-traveled road. It wasn’t large and didn’t boast with ostentatious arrogance, but Travis always thought it was filled with rustic charm, tucked in the backwoods of Kings County. It had always been a simple and quaint home, with its sloping straw roof and cobblestone chimney rising out of the middle of it. Made of thick clay—yellow, Mama’s favorite color—and large windows that let the sun in from dawn to dusk, it was the sort of place that felt approachable day and night. With its creaky, wooden floorboards and built-in bookshelves overflowing with books from spellbinding to conjuring to potions, it was the perfect spot for holding a magick gathering. Which was good. As one of the county’s only witches without a Guild, Travis made a point to keep his house neat and clean and welcoming. He wanted people to feel comfortable coming to him for potions and spells and charms. Without being a part of any local Guild, Travis could set his prices lower and provide his services for those who couldn’t afford them from members of the more expensive Guilds. Noticing that the daffodils in his garden at the start of the stone walkway were beginning to wilt, Travis waved his hand over them. Warmth rushed through his fingers as his magick ran through them and into the flowers. The blossoms slowly bloomed again as Travis’s magick unspooled from him and breathed life back into them. A charge formed between him and the flowers now—a silky, opulent sensation that belonged to the magick of all witches. It lingered for a moment or two as their energies mixed together. As an elemental witch, most of Travis’s magick drew a strong connection to the four main elements—earth, air, fire, water—and as he continued down the stone walkway, the feeling stretched like cotton candy until it finally eased apart from him completely. Travis’s shoes clacked on the path that led right up to the stone steps of his cottage where a small, calico cat was curled up on the top one, napping in the sun. Stopping, Travis allowed a bit of his own magick to weave through the air, sifting through the ley lines, the currents of natural energy that crossed throughout the world. He pushed. Searched. Found his wards still very much in place so nothing too exciting could have happened around here while he’d been gone. Travis continued for the door. After just a few more steps, the cat’s right ear twitched with Travis’s approach. Before Travis got any closer, his eyes opened. Left one first, then the right, and then those bright, striking green eyes remained alert and watched Travis as he came to the door. “What happened?” Travis asked as he fished his ring of keys out of the deep pocket of his purple trousers. “Did you lock yourself out?” The cat didn’t quite roll his eyes, but Travis could see the hint of that eye roll as he quickly shook his head and arched his back in a long, drawn-out stretch. He licked his lips and sat straight, tail curled around his paws. He waited for Travis to balance the grocery bags while trying to fit the iron key into the keyhole of the front door. At first glance, the cat looked like any of the strays roaming around the ever-busy streets of Kings County. Most people that caught a glimpse of him just saw a cat. Others took a longer look and saw the lovely calico patches of orange and black on his coat. Small in size and often mistaken for being under a year old, but worth a soft pet and a dish of food. After a closer look still, even someone with talent and experience might continue to be fooled. On rare—exceedingly rare—occasions, someone would stumble upon him and see him for what he was. A familiar. A rare, magickal creature born in between the current of magick and the mortal world. Unlike other magickal creatures, a familiar’s magick was completely pure. And a pure source of magick was hard to come by. Travis, himself, didn’t know the damn cat was anything more than a normal cat for almost three weeks when they’d first met seven years ago. Maybe because it’d been so long now, but those curious, piercing, and watchful eyes of his were such a dead giveaway, Travis couldn’t understand how he’d ever believed this little guy was just a cat. Not only were male calicos exceptionally rare, but the green of his eyes also wasn’t a normal green. Not even for a cat. They were the churning, passionate color the ocean turned during a storm. The green glistening through the treetops after it rained. Now, above all things, they felt like home. Once he got the door unlocked and pushed opened, creaking at him in greeting, the cat shimmied between both his legs to get inside first. Travis almost dropped the bags in the process. “After you, your highness,” he grunted as he shut the door behind him with his foot. “Thanks for your help.” Inside, the cottage was cozy. Always had been. The whole thing spanned across one big room with several wooden beams and a loft bedroom. Sun poured in through all the windows; even the specks of dust that twirled merrily here and there glowed through its illumination. On the far end sat a wooden table and a row of cupboards where Travis would put away his groceries. His elemental altar was set up in front of the bay windows. Over in the big, stone fireplace hung a black cauldron. In front of it were several different sized pillows. Some satin. Some cotton. Some silk. Filled with goose down and sheep and goats’ wool. Travis put the bags down on the table. At the same time, the cat jumped up onto it and rubbed against them. One even fell over, the contents spilling out across the tabletop. Before Travis could try to clean it up, the cat started pawing at one of the cans. He looked up at Travis, gazing right in his eyes, and knocked it off the table. “Aw, come on, Niko.” Travis huffed as he bent over to retrieve the fallen can of billing’s root. “Was that really necessary? Are you still mad at me?” The cat stuck his nose up before leaping off the table to walk behind the wooden pantry and came back out from behind it on two human legs. Naked and unashamed. A pair of loose-fitting, drawstring trousers with a hole cut out of the back to make room for his tail was draped over the back of the nearest chair. Niko wasn’t a shapeshifter whose clothes transformed when they did. As a familiar, Niko’s clothes shed as he phased from cat to human. This fact never bothered him. Even in their younger years, when Travis, awkward and embarrassed, blushed and hid his eyes, Niko simply strolled around to find some clothes to cover himself with. That meant either changing into those bought and tailored specifically for him or, as they got older, just shrugging into one of Travis’s shirts which now fell just above his knees. He never felt the need to hurry, though. Niko, cat form or human form, knew he had a beautiful body and was not above strutting about to show it off. Once he slipped into his trousers, Niko stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. Claws extended from his fingertips and then retracted again as he brought his arms back down—scratching at the cat ears atop his head along the way—and his whiskers shook a little when he wiggled his nose. Behind him, his tail flicked once and then just swayed slightly as he walked back to the table. “How did it go?” he asked instead of answering Travis’s question. “Did you remember my biscuits?” Reaching into the bag that Niko didn’t knock over, Travis pulled out the bag of tea biscuits he wanted. Since a little brown-nosing could work in his favor, he opened it before handing it over to Niko. Niko said nothing about Travis’s gesture and just took it, sticking his hand in the bag for a biscuit. He shoved the thing into his mouth and waited for Travis to respond to the more important of his questions. Well, maybe the more important question. Niko was a sucker for those damn treats. Niko pulled his legs up to the table to sit on it with them folded like a pretzel. There’d always been something so sweet and endearing about him seated that way. Even in human form, he wasn’t very big. His limbs were long, legs and arms, and curled in tight, lean muscle, but he still only came to just a little over five feet tall. The poof of hair that sat upon his head matched the pattern on his coat. Despite all that napping in the sun he did, his skin remained incredibly pale which made those thin, pink lips and green eyes—which always retained those diamond pupils—stand out more. The look suited him. Not like Travis. Always hitting his head on the top of door frames. Big, oversized muscles. Clumsy hands and feet that tripped all over themselves. Brown eyes the color of wet bark and messy mop of hair just a shade lighter. Pale gold skin that burned in the summer. Thick-rimmed glasses and hearing aids that made him the target of many bullies when he was younger and hadn’t grown into his body yet. When he’d been weaker and unable to control his own magick. “It was fine.” Travis sighed as he unpacked the rest of the groceries. “Just like it always is.” “So, you won’t be arrested?” “Nope.” “What’d they say this time?” “They said…” Travis needed to make some room in the cupboard for a new can of worm’s wort. He put the canis root on the counter next to the new bag of hazelnuts for his soup. “That one more cause of collateral damage without the support of a Guild and I’ll be arrested for Reckless Use of Magick and Vigilantism.” He turned back around without unpacking the rest and leaned against the counter. Folded his arms over his chest and smirked. “Just like they always do.” Niko shoved another biscuit into his mouth. “Seven counts in two years.” Just like Travis was reminded of during the trial. Seven summons for Reckless Use of Magick and Vigilantism because Travis was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the right time depending on how one looked at it. Some magick-users tried to take advantage of non-magick users and even other magick-users with different levels of talent. They bullied or threatened or outright forced people into paying for their so-called protection from others that would harm or rob them. When they were, in fact, the ones doing those very things anyway. “And you’ve known me for seven,” Travis muttered. “Long enough to know I can’t run away when I see someone being taken advantage of. Running away feels wrong.” Which was why he never did. Travis had never backed down or run away when he saw that—or anyone being hassled for that matter—happening. Even long before he met Niko and had trouble using his magick. When he was still an awkward, gangly thing of a boy—with little strength and a bark much bigger than his bite—Travis would rush to the aid of those in need. That was before he had his very own familiar friend to assist him—before Niko helped him channel the magick that’d been so temperamental for him. A witch—or, any magick-user, Travis supposed—unable to control their magick never exactly had an easy life. People weren’t thrilled about seeking spells and charms from someone who couldn’t properly utilize their magick. With Niko’s help, Travis’s life improved greatly. In more ways than one. Travis couldn’t imagine life without his kitten. Even a kitten still annoyed with him for getting a seventh summons from the Grand Council. “Yes,” Niko hissed with an indignant lift of his chin. “I know. I have been burdened with patching you up since you were fifteen years old.” Yes, he had been. Travis could remember that first afternoon like it happened only yesterday. When he had been dragged into a back alley after school by three older boys because he’d had the nerve to stick up for another boy they’d been picking on. Travis, then, had been the easier target. It’d been raining that day. A wet, cold, miserable afternoon, and when Travis had been singled out by the trio of bullies, he ended up punched and kicked and tossed in muddy puddles. “Give it up, Travis,” one of the boys said, propped up against some tin trash cans. “S’not like you’re gonna get anywhere.” It went on like that for another few minutes. The three boys continued to harass Travis, even pushing him back and forth between all three of them for getting involved in their business while Travis went right on trying to defend himself with pitiful punches and staggering breaths. Then, they pushed him so hard that he tripped over his own two feet and landed, again, into a puddle of dirty water. Travis’s glasses slid across the dirt path. All the contents of his book bag spilled out—school books, paper, charcoal crayons. A tear right into his life. Before he could make a desperate attempt to gather up his personal belongings, one of the boys knocked him back down with a punch to the side of the face, and Travis landed face down in the puddle. Cold water splashed up all around him, and he flipped onto his backside as the boy hovered over him. “Do yourself a favor, Grayweaver.” He spat on the ground right next to Travis. “Give it a rest. You stay away from us, and we’ll stay away from you. Got it?” Rubbing at the cut on his face, Travis glared up at him and clenched his teeth. He shook his head, slammed his fists into the ground, and refused to back off. “No! No, I won’t!” he yelled. “I’ll never give it a rest! Not if you or anyone else is pickin’ on someone! I don’t care how much bigger or stronger than me you are! You’ll see! I’ll never turn my back on someone who needs my help!” The air in the alley started to change. Grow charged. Electric. Magick that swirled around like iridescent streamers and the fractured pieces of an impossibly colored rainbow. It was strong. Strong enough that anyone could feel it without having to even search for it. If someone didn’t know any better, they’d probably think it was coming from one of the three older, stronger boys. It wasn’t, though. It was Travis’s magick. He could produce such a strong current of magick that it made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand. But it usually came out in quick bursts or an underwhelming dribble. That wasn’t going to stop him from trying. His fingers, instead of being curled into fists, spread to create a spell. Droplets of water rose from the ground, slowly and steadily, vibrating and swelling in size as they did. They reached about two inches before Travis started to tremble and slumped back over, panting and struggling for breath. All the water splashed back down again as Travis shook out his hand with a pained hiss, sparks scattering from fingertips. The three boys laughed and kicked water at an exhausted Travis. He barely even had enough strength to shield himself from it. “Right.” One of them, Travis didn’t pay attention to who, scoffed. “Get real, Grayweaver. You’re never gonna be a real witch. We all know you can’t use your magick. You can’t do it. Just. Give it. Up.” As they turned to walk away, chuckling to themselves and exchanging fist-bumps as though they’d done things worthy of self-praise, Travis picked himself back up. He was still wobbly, trembling all over, his legs like wet noodles. Every muscle in his body pulled taut. His eyes squeezed closed; his jaw clenched, his knuckles turned white. The boys may have knocked him down. Rage, however, had picked him back up. “f**k you!” Travis screamed after them. “Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do!” They all turned. The biggest of them sashayed back on over to him. This one drew a fist back to punch again. That’s when the cat that’d been escaping the rain on a window sill sprang for him before he could even throw that punch, with its claws out and a cat cry that echoed through the alley. He pulled a startled yelp from all of them—Travis included—as he jumped onto one boy’s shoulders, effectively scratching the back of his neck just as the kid tried to toss him off. The cat scratched at him enough that he couldn’t get rid of him and, instead, he landed nimbly on his paws between them and Travis. Back arched, the cat hissed, fangs bared as he swiped at the space between them as though just daring them to try again. “Lucky for you, this furball showed up,” the smallest of the three grunted as they all offered some unkind parting words to Travis, and stormed away. The cat turned to face Travis, and sat up straight and proudly, with his tail flicking from side to side. Travis barely paid any attention, since he was much too busy gathering up his things and stuffing them back into his bag. Once he finished and looked back at him, the cat sat up more. Tilted his head slightly and meowed. Smugly. Only Travis wasn’t pleased in the slightest. Travis didn’t even look at him like he thought he was cute—which he found out later Niko had taken quite personally as he knew very well that he was cute. That day, however, Travis just glared at him, offended by his presence. “I didn’t need your help, you dumb cat,” he growled. The side of his face was already puffy. His lip swelled. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “I was handlin’ the whole thing just fine on my own.” The cat meowed at him, almost as though responding to his statement. Travis rolled his eyes and was extremely tempted to kick water at the damn cat. He refrained. The poor thing was soaked to the bone and also, whether Travis cared to admit it or not, had helped him when he needed it. Picking himself up, Travis wiped his arm across his eyes, shoved his glasses back on, and slipped his backpack over his shoulder. He took a few steps toward the sidewalk, then paused and flicked his hand toward the cat. “So.” He sighed and bent down, holding a hand out to the pretty feline. “You got someplace warm to go to or what?” This earned him a soft meow and a bop on the offered hand with his head. Travis, accepting that to mean he was being taken up on his offer to get out of the rain together, chuckled as he scooped the cat into his arms, gently cradling him against his chest as he headed home. Niko had been with Travis ever since that day. Of course, he didn’t find out he was anything but an ordinary cat for another three weeks. But that was a different matter entirely. Now he reminded his familiar, “Hey, I never asked for your help, y’know.” Niko only rolled his eyes at this. “Humans. No dignity at all. As if I could be seen with you with your face all black-and-blue. No one would think I was a very good familiar, would they?” Niko, technically, was not Travis’s familiar. They hadn’t forged a magickal contract between the two of them. No binding spells or obligation charms that made Niko belong to him. Familiars floated somewhere between the corporeal and ethereal and, as such, were known to be fiercely independent when not contracted to someone, but once they were, they would do everything in their power to protect their human. Niko stayed with Travis all these years without a contract. Their relationship might’ve been uniquely unheard of, but it worked for them. “And regardless,” Niko went on, “do you know what happens to me if you go to jail?” Travis snorted and pushed away from the counter. He went to the table, where Niko’s legs were still pulled up and crisscrossed as he kept on eating the biscuits. They might be gone by tonight. Travis dropped his hand over Niko’s head to scratch between his ears, but Niko jerked away the second he did. “And all this time I thought it was me you were worried about.” “I am worried about you, human. But it goes without saying that if you get arrested, then I would on my own and I’m afraid I’ve become much too accustomed to a particular lifestyle to change it now.” That might not be entirely true, but he wasn’t really wrong either. There were places he could go—Travis’s friends would take him in, but not without great risk just because Niko was a familiar. Familiars weren’t known for entering a contract lightly so when they did, of their own free will, of course, it meant that something special had formed between them and their human. A willing contract, as Travis understood it, was said to be nearly unbreakable. Most of the community assumed that Niko was just Travis’s familiar and treated him as such. If Travis was hauled off to prison, it would become painfully obvious that this was not the case, and many people would do whatever it took to gain a contract between themselves and a familiar, including getting rid of anyone in their way. Not just magick-users either. Even the non-magickal community would take many risks trying to get their hands on one. Whether that meant stealing their blood to force one into a contract or placing one under a locking charm or attempting a mind-control spell. Travis had heard plenty of horror stories about the misuse and abuse of other animal companions. Brimbees killed for their fur. Unicorns hunted for their horns. Werebeasts locked away from the public. No one wanted to kill a familiar, though. They wanted them for their magick. To use it all until they had almost nothing left to give before allowing them to rebuild their energy again. Once their magick was spent, so was the familiar’s life. Travis never asked for a contract with Niko anyway, fearful it would simply push his kitten away. He’d already done enough for him by using his own magick to help unlock Travis’s, that pure, refined magick slipping into the spools inside him and picking at the knots little by little until it came free. Travis would do anything to repay him for that. He could always make it as a stray or just on his own out in the world as he’d been doing before he met Travis, but Travis knew that Niko had a fondness for being around people. Though he’d thoroughly deny that if Travis said as much. But Niko simply craved affection and just lived for attention. Niko’s life was better when he had someone to take care of him. A gentle, guiding hand. A home to go to. People to love and socialize with. “Okay,” Travis relented. “You’re right. I’ll be more careful next time.” He leaned in to kiss Niko’s cheek, but Niko pulled away defiantly and denied him the chance. “Nikolai! Oh, come on! You haven’t let me kiss you since I got the Grand Council’s summon the other day!” Slowly taking out another handful of biscuits, Niko carefully placed one on his tongue and made a sensual show of pulling it into his mouth. He chewed dramatically, eyes on Travis the whole time, before exposing his neck just as he swallowed. “I know,” Niko said when his little show ended. “It’s the only way you learn.” “Hm.” Travis rested his brow over Niko’s. “Are you the one teaching me lessons now?” Pink tickled Niko’s cheek, his chin dropping in sweet, almost meek shyness. Biting down on a smirk, he shook his head and giggled. Rare for a cat, but then, Niko wasn’t just a cat. He came with his own likes and dislikes and preferences and tastes. Over their years together, Travis had learned most of them. “No.” He peered up through his lashes. “But extreme circumstances call for extreme measures, wouldn’t you agree?” “Yes. I would.” Eyeing his kitten for a long, drawn-out moment—the only break in eye contact was the one time Niko blinked—Travis flicked his fingers at him. A quick tingling sensation shot through his hand—conjuring an element always felt a bit different than manipulating one—and from the tips of Travis’s fingers sprayed several drops of water, each of them glistening like tiny diamonds in the sun as they flew at Niko’s face. They hit. Precise and accurate, and Niko let out a startled, high-pitched meow before rapidly shaking his head and trying to rub the moisture away with the back of his hand. “Travis!” Travis couldn’t help laughing at Niko’s reaction. That was always priceless, even if the cost was Niko glaring at him and baring his tiny fangs in a hiss. “Oh, come on!” Travis chuckled. “That was funny.” “Sure,” Niko grumbled. Slipped off of the table with the bag of biscuits still clutched in his hands. “Hilarious. You’re a regular comedian.” Before he could get away—trying to sneak the biscuits away from the table kept him from phasing back to his cat form and escaping quickly—Travis wrapped an arm around Niko’s waist to keep him there. “Hey, hey!” He pulled Niko to his chest. “You know the rules.” Travis snatched the bag out of Niko’s hands. “No food away from the table.” “No!” Niko whined the second his snack was taken from him and, with them gone, he suddenly became very affectionate. Started rubbing his cheek against Travis’s. “Please, Travis? Let me have my biscuits?” Since Niko had gotten all cuddly in an attempt to get his biscuits back, he turned enough that Travis could run his hand along his back. When he got to that oh-so-sensitive spot right above his tail, Niko’s backside pushed back against Travis’s palm. Whimpered as he did. Travis did it again. This time, Niko’s tail wrapped around the middle of Travis’s leg. “Mm.” Travis scratched under Niko’s chin. “Gimme a kiss then.” Not giving in to that, Niko made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, and Travis found himself stumbling forward when all of Niko’s weight disappeared as he phased back to a cat, a pair of trousers piling on the floor where he’d been standing. He strolled away from Travis with his tail lifted up high. Niko went to the bookshelf—his favorite spot—still soaked in sun. Chuckling to himself, Travis waited until Niko got settled—which meant pawing at the pages of the opened book up there until getting to the next page and curling up on top of it—before going over there and tapping on the side of it. “Hey,” Travis whispered. “Nikolai.” Niko lifted his head just enough that Travis knew he had his attention. “Forgive me?” His kitten blinked at him, long and drawn out the way he did whenever he was happy, and then unfolded one arm to quickly boop the tip of Travis’s nose. Niko went right back to resting against the book as though he’d done nothing at all. Travis grinned and went to finish putting away the groceries. He left the open bag of biscuits out on the table. Once he finished with the groceries, Travis took to cleaning the few dishes in the sink. He paused when he glanced at the framed picture on the window sill. The first ever with Niko in it. Travis’s mother, Emma, had taken them for a picnic in the park. There’d been a street artist drawing portraits for people. After they’d eaten lunch, Travis and Niko were playing in the grass, Emma conjuring glittery butterflies for them to chase, and the artist had offered to do them a portrait. She had been a spellweaver, so her sketch of them—of Emma’s arms around Travis and Travis playfully tugging at Niko’s ears—hadn’t faded with time. All the colors were still vibrant. Their smiles still bright as that day. Life and happiness radiated right from their eyes. That had been only three months after Niko moved in with them. Emma had been none too pleased to learn that Travis had brought a cat home with him. Travis pleaded with her to let him keep the kitten he’d rescued from the rain—leaving out the part where the kitten actually saved him first—and swore she didn’t have to do anything and he’d totally, one hundred percent take care of him. He even had Niko wrapped in a fluffy yellow blanket to dry him and made him a bowl of warm milk. “He can sleep in my bed,” Travis said. “I promise, I’ll do everything.” She eyed Niko—who Travis affectionately still called “kitten”—suspiciously, which was unusual because Emma always liked animals. True, she’d never brought home any pets for Travis to keep, but she’d never abandon an injured or sick animal. She’d call for a nature witch to make sure it was in good hands before leaving. But, face to face with a little calico kitten, her eyes narrowed. “You listen to me, mister,” she said, and Travis nodded, giving her every drop of his attention. “This cat is your responsibility. And if there’s any funny business…” Her gaze lifted to Travis. “I want to know about it.” Looking back on it, Travis wondered if Emma knew the truth right then and there. He wouldn’t put it past her. She was, after all, a very talented witch and she hadn’t been all that surprised when, three weeks later, Travis screamed in his room while he’d been playing with his brand new kitten, teasing him with a piece of string and said kitten, determined to get it, gave up chasing and trying to pounce on it, and phased into a human to get it instead. Stunned, Travis toppled over on his mattress while Niko, naked and on his knees by the bed, waved the string around in victory. “Look!” he exclaimed before realizing what he’d done. “Look, Travis, I’ve done it! I…oh…um…oh my.” Putting the picture back in its place, Travis chuckled at the memory. At Niko sputtering out apologies and attempting to explain that he’d only meant to stay one night to get out of the rain. That he’d leave and “please don’t call the Service of Magickal Creature Control on me.” Emma just rolled her eyes and told him that if he was going to stay in the Grayweaver house, he’d need to abide by her rules. Which meant eating his vegetables, not just fish, and a daily curfew and attending school so he could learn to read and write. He had a knack for learning. Pored over every work of literature he got his hands on. Passed his classes without cracking a book. Never took notes and aced his tests. Detested gym, though. Cut whenever he had the chance. At first, Travis assumed Nikolai—who didn’t go by Niko until Travis gave him the nickname a year later—stayed and went along with Emma’s rules just for a free meal and a roof over his head. But, as time went on, and Niko didn’t leave, Travis began to wonder if there was something more between them. They were best of friends. Stayed by each other’s side through thick and thin. Had each other’s backs. Niko never left Travis’s side when Emma became ill. Took care of everything after she died. Travis made Niko laugh and painted his fingernails and toenails whatever color he wanted and held him through scary thunderstorms. He took care of him. Gave him what he needed when he needed it. It was just last year, while he watched Niko twirling around in the kitchen to the music of sizzling onions, that Travis was amazed to realize he had fallen in love with him. Fallen in love with the silly cat familiar currently napping in the golden rays of the afternoon sun atop an open book. Niko, as far as Travis was concerned, did not know about his feelings, and he, for now, intended for it to stay that way. He was much too afraid to say anything. The one time he could remember fear holding him back from doing something, and it was telling someone he loved them. But every time the words bubbled on his tongue, they popped and vanished to nothing. For a year now, he envisioned just how it would happen. A warm summer’s night. Fireflies glowing all around them. A shy, quiet confession under a sky full of stars. Perfect. A human and a familiar. Not in a contract, but in love. Strange and unusual, but strange and unusual tended to work for them. If only Travis could bring himself to say the words. They’d hugged and kissed and cuddled. Even made love. They made love quite frequently, actually. Niko loved being petted and touched all over. What started out two years ago as a silly tryst after stumbling home giggling and heads spinning with too much faery wine and catnip from the Beltane Festival, had turned into a normal thing for them. Travis couldn’t complain. Making love to Niko was next to flying. Took him to uncharted skies and new worlds. Yes, they made love and would hold each other afterward, but Travis never told Niko how in love with him he was and still hadn’t summoned the courage to do so. Of course, if Travis ever did manage to work up the courage to tell Niko, it’d probably slip out at the most horrible and awkward moment. “What do you keep sighing about over there?” Travis, almost dropping the plate he was washing, absently, hadn’t even realized he’d been sighing. He hadn’t even noticed that Niko was back in the kitchen with him. With a biscuit in his mouth. “Nothing.” It’s just because I love you and I’m too scared to tell you. “Are you gonna save any of those?” Niko was at the icebox, pulling out a bottle of milk. He shrugged as he poured some out for himself. “I’ll eat them at my leisure, thank you.” Taking a big gulp of the milk, and getting a milk mustache as a result, Niko gave him a big, toothy grin. Travis snickered and went over to him, wiping the milk away with his thumbs. “Can I kiss you now, kitten?” The bell outside rang before Niko could answer. He smirked. Travis sighed. Again, apparently. “I guess not,” Niko said, phasing back to a cat and practically skipping away, the little tease. “Mr. Grayweaver?” Whoever was at the door knocked now. “Are you home?” “Yeah.” Too many emotions gathered in Travis’s throat. He needed to clear it. “I’m coming,” he said, and went to open the door.