Work Text:
Fighting like cats and dogs.
That was the old adage, wasn’t it? The idea was that cats and dogs were natural born enemies and destined to never get along. They hated one another with passion unrivaled.
Though Cerise had never really understood why that was. Sure, cats and dogs were opposites in almost every way she could fathom. Dogs were outgoing and eager to please, and cats were notorious for their stoicism and indifference, even if it was just an act. But she didn’t know if that was enough to justify all the supposed enmity between them. It just seemed kind of silly.
However, Cerise would be the first to admit that cats had a tendency to be irritating. They stalked and pounced on unsuspecting prey, which they then toyed with mercilessly. They sharpened their claws on anything they pleased. They knocked things over just to watch them fall. She knew they took so much silent glee in that specific act.
And in her life, there was one cat in particular who was very irritating.
Kitty Cheshire, with her sharp smile and her ever-watchful eyes, was a nuisance that Cerise just couldn’t shake. She was everywhere. Playing pranks and causing trouble and digging her way further and further under Cerise’s skin.
She didn’t… not like Kitty. Far from it, actually. She got on her nerves with her incessant curiosity. And she was still unsettled that she had tried to reveal her secret just for her own entertainment. And there was that time when Kitty had made an off-hand comment about how Cedar would make a hexellent scratching post that had sort of rubbed her the wrong way. But she didn’t feel the need to dislike her simply because she was of canine descent and Kitty was… well, not. Perhaps it went against her instincts - because it certainly went against her wishes - but she was drawn to Kitty.
Most people couldn’t see Kitty coming until it was too late, thanks to her little disappearing-reappearing act. That wasn’t so for Cerise. She always knew when she was close by, acutely attuned to her because of her heightened senses.
Scent. That was always her first warning that Kitty was around. Most things smelled different to Cerise than they did to others, thanks to her half-wolf genetics. She caught onto a scent much faster and smelled it much more strongly, and she could also usually tell in which direction it was coming from.
Kitty didn’t smell like other felines Cerise had known. Most cats gave off fairly earthy scents, like dust and rain and sweet musk. The Cheshire Cat smelled like that, so the only time Cerise caught it on Kitty was after she had been in the company of her mother. During those times, Cerise would find herself wrinkling her nose, and feeling disappointed. She didn’t like it when Kitty’s natural scent was obscured by something else. It was an unfortunate discovery, but that’s the way it was: she liked the way Kitty smelled. Catching a whiff of lavender on the air made her nose twitch and her lungs burn with the desire to breathe deeply. Lavender in fresh fallen snow, and something she could only describe as smelling like curling up in a patch of sunlight for a nap, that was the scent that Kitty’s presence brought and which alerted Cerise long before anyone else even had a clue she was there.
She drank in that smell every time, even if she didn’t want to. She inhaled it and savored it, pulling it into herself so thoroughly she could almost taste it on the back of her tongue. It permeated everything and everywhere and made Cerise’s head spin with euphoria. It was an intoxicating scent, moreso than that of the pine trees in the woods or the warmth of her father’s embrace, and she could get drunk off of it if she allowed herself to. Of course, she wouldn’t allow herself to. That would be weird, right? Basking in someone’s scent was… well, it was just weird! She didn’t want to be labeled as weird, especially not when she already harbored one secret that likely would get her kept at arm’s length.
The other warning sign was sound. She had discovered that Kitty’s magic made a sound that everyone else couldn’t seem to hear. The frequency must have been too fine for all ears except her own, though she had noticed Bunny Blanc would tilt her head almost imperceptibly at the same time she herself picked up on the sound.
The noise was always faint, sometimes so faint that even she had a hard time hearing it. It reminded her of TV static, or maybe a rushing waterfall beyond view, or the noise one heard when they put their ear to a seashell. It buzzed and hummed, and sometimes, depending on how close Kitty was to her, Cerise could feel it too. At times it felt like a gentle thrumming in her chest, other times it ghosted over her skin and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She kind of liked it when she could feel it. It was like Kitty’s magic could touch her, and that seemed far more intimate than any physical touch could ever be.
When she felt the most gentle of caresses on her skin, she had to fight back the urge to let her eyes flutter shut and a sigh to fall from her lips. But she couldn’t fight back how her body relaxed, tension melting from her shoulders and jaw releasing its clench. She had to catch herself, mentally slap herself back into acceptable behavior, because she couldn’t be caught acting like that. It was even weirder than the scent thing!
Even when Kitty appeared through more mundane methods, like entering a room on her own two feet rather than suddenly popping out of thin air with the flash of a grin, Cerise was hyper aware of it before anyone else. She was still able to smell her coming, and she heard her too, though it wasn’t by the sound of her magic but the pattern of her footsteps. Cerise knew all of her friends and family by the unique sound of their footsteps, having grown familiar with their gaits. She knew a few other people’s footsteps as well, people that she often heard walking, like most of the faculty and several other students she passed daily in the hallways.
And now she knew Kitty’s too. She knew it by heart, like the back of her hand, she could tap out the same pattern with her fingertips. Her steps were soft, very light-footed like most cats. The sound could be easily drowned out when she walked in a crowd, but Cerise had unconsciously conditioned herself into tuning her ears to that sound. She was always listening for it, whether she knew it or not. And once she heard it, her ears would twitch beneath her hood towards it, and then her eyes would follow.
She honed in on Kitty almost effortlessly. She spotted her first every time, whether she appeared through magic or walked in the doorway. Her scent and the buzz of her magic allowed Cerise to always know where to look, and her eyes would be drawn to that spot, waiting to catch sight of bouncing, curly pigtails when they showed up. At least that wasn’t quite so weird. She couldn’t find much fault in looking at her friends. Well, maybe “friend” was a little too strong of a term to use. She didn’t actually know if her and Kitty were friends. She thought she might like to be, but at the same time, she also thought she might like to hold her hand.
Hm. Perplexing, really.
And suddenly, there it was. Lavender, snow, naps in sunshine. The softest (cutest) pitter-patter of footsteps.
Cerise’s eyes flashed up and right into Kitty’s signature grin. She didn’t greet her, not like everyone else at the table did, but Kitty still noticed her all the same. She took the seat directly across from her and Cerise ignored the warmth that settled in her stomach as her movements sent a waft of her delicious smell straight into her face. She took a deep pull of air before she could stop herself, grabbing just enough of the scent to keep herself sated. It danced its way into her lungs, and her brain, and around her heart too, giving it a teasing little squeeze. She closed her eyes, no longer than the span of two short breaths, but when she opened them again, she found Kitty peering right at her from where she rested her chin on her folded hands. Cerise didn’t react beyond a simple, slow blink. Kitty tossed another smile her way, her sharp canines flashing between her lips.
“Hi there.”
Cerise blinked again, quicker, and once more felt her ears twitch against the fabric of her hood. That voice… it was melodic. Kitty had such a lovely voice, extremely reminiscent of a kitten. Whereas her mother’s voice was deeper, richer, more like the purr of a mature lioness, Kitty’s voice was light and lilting and drove Cerise crazy with both annoyance and longing. It floated on the air, it carried despite its softness, it sounded almost falsetto in nature, and Cerise believed it embodied everything a cat was.
Soft, silent, mischievous. And deadly.
Cerise would really like to hold her hand. She would also like to hear her voice closer, maybe feel her lips brush the sensitive fur of her ear. She might even like to kiss her stupid, smiling face.
She looked away, off to her right where Maddie sat. But Maddie was looking at her too, and looking at her in that certain way that Cerise really didn’t like. Her eyes were a fraction wider than usual, and her smile was small and, honestly, a bit unsettling. This was the look that had Cerise feeling as if Maddie knew everything she was thinking, and it typically appeared just seconds before Kitty made an entrance. Maddie tossed her this irritating, knowing look without fail every time and Cerise could do nothing about it without giving herself away. Maybe Maddie hoped she would spill her guts, but she wouldn’t be getting a confession out of her unless it was uttered with her last, dying breath. She was taking her silly crush on Kitty to the grave.
Oh. So it was a crush then.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Kitty’s question made Cerise look her way again. And she looked so quickly, like a dog snapping its head towards its master at the call of its name.
Hm. Curiouser and curiouser, as Kitty would say.
Cerise offered her a little smile of her own, and they spent several moments engaging in a silent battle, seeing who would break away first. Surprisingly, Kitty did, dropping her eyes away with a slow blink that made Cerise’s heart skip half a beat.
Yes, cat certainly had her tongue. Unfortunately, it seemed she might have her heart too.