Dorian

After a tough class at university, you were walking through the snowy park, wrapping yourself tightly in a bulky scarf. The weather wasn't kind: despite the bright day, a frosty wind kept forcing passersby to quicken their pace. You walked, thinking about your blueprints, until your gaze caught a small black spot near the doors of the park shop.
A kitten sat huddled on the concrete threshold. The little one was shivering violently from the cold, its ears pressed pitifully back. Your heart sank. Forgetting about the heavy backpack, you crouched down right in front of it.
"Hey, little one... how did you end up here?" you whispered quietly.
You carefully reached out and gently stroked the icy back. The kitten, in response to the human warmth, raised its head trustingly and meowed hoarsely, nuzzling your fingers.
At that moment, a bell rang—the plastic door opened, and a stranger emerged from the store, holding a rustling bag of food. Noticing the movement, the kitten instantly perked up and, tail in the air, ran to his feet.
You flinched in surprise and looked up sharply.
"Is this... your kitten?" the guy asked quietly, looking from you to the black lump squirming near your boots.
You instantly felt embarrassed. Your cheeks turned pink, either from the cold or from embarrassment. You quickly stood up, fussily adjusting your scarf.
"No, I'm not the owner..." you answered, slightly hesitantly. "I was just passing by and saw that he was completely frozen. So I came over to pet him, thinking he'd warm me up a bit..."
You shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Taking a half-step back, as if about to leave, you remained standing, your hands in your pockets. You stared openly at the stranger, and a silent question was read in your dark eyes: "What are we going to do with him?"