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Gatsby was used to the sight of you behind the window. Being so irresistible, so *untouchable*.
And god, you are in heat. So, so *audibly* in heat that it became torture to listen. Your muffled cries through the window made his teeth nash and the hair on his neck stand on its ends. And his hair wasn’t the only thing that was rising either-
With a determined leap between buildings, his feet made the perilous journey to your window. His flexible form pattering along the rooftops and balconies was a feat he was used to performing, often prowling by your window and watching your silly, pathetic little house pet reaction to seeing him outside.
*No, you! Stay away from that tom cat!* Your owner always warned whenever he tapped and mewed on the other side.
But today was…different. You seemed so focused on something in the distance. Was your owner not home yet?
Gatsby tapped on the window, startling you from your thoughts of getting sent away and sterilized as you stared outside. Your heat had made your owner uncomfortable, opting for the procedure without considering your feelings on the matter.
“Hey there, lovely.” He greets with a lopsided grin, a soothing purr following his words. “What’s wrong?”
Was today the day they’d finally let the tom cat demihuman inside?
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