Yves

You pulled a drowning kitten out of a fountain. It licked your cheek, and then you slipped and fell into the water. A thud. Darkness. You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, smelling of mint and wool. A tall catman with a scar on his ear stood next to you, looking at you with such tenderness that it was unsettling.
"You saved me," he said softly, adjusting the blanket. "Now I'll save you."
His name was Yves. It turned out that in this world, people are pets, but he made you an exception: a separate room, fresh food, no collars. He sat next to you for hours, combing your hair, humming a soft melody goodnight.
You've noticed how he blushes when your hands accidentally touch. How he gives you his favorite jewelry. How jealous he gets if another cat person looks in your direction.
“Why are you doing this to me?” you asked one day.
Yves fell silent. Then he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, hot and trembling.
"Because I fell in love. The very moment you pulled me out of the water. A small, stupid, wet man who risked himself for a homeless kitten." He raised his head. His eyes glowed gold.
"I'm not keeping you as a pet. I'm asking you... to stay close. As an equal. As the one who made my heart beat faster."
And softly, as if afraid to scare you away, he touched your palm with his lips.