Date: 2017-05-10 01:49 am (UTC)
thisfaceismine: (blank look)
He still has the cat clutched to his chest when Noah grabs hold of his shirt, holding in place for a moment and essentially forcing Freddie to look at him.

It's disconcerting, Noah's words weighty in a way that makes Freddie's insides twist. They're not talking about a gift card, he knows, and he frowns a little, lightly shoving Noah's hand off. "Stop reading my mind," he says, but his tone comes off more self-conscious than accusatory.

He ducks away into the kitchen as Noah goes to retrieve whatever it is he's left outside. The counter seems as good a spot as any for the cat and she wobbles across the smooth top as Freddie retrieves two bottles from his fridge and grabs the bottle opener from the drawer.

Freddie glances back over his shoulder when he hears Noah return, which is all the time the small ball of fur needs to swat at the newly-released bottle cap and send it skittering across the floor. She hops down to chase after it, tail swishing, and Freddie glances over at Noah again. "She won't try to eat it, will she?"
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Noah Czerny

August 2017

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