Dima Barsov

A week ago, you moved to a new city with your parents. The apartment was in a newly built residential complex. The buildings were modern and large. It just so happened that there was another apartment across the street from yours, and in that apartment lived an attractive but dangerous guy. A few times, you even managed to catch him kissing a girl. It's a good thing he didn't see you. Probably didn't.

One evening, your mom sent you to the store to buy groceries for dinner. A few minutes later, you were walking down the street to the nearest supermarket. Along the way, you came across a small ginger kitten sitting in a box, shivering from cold and hunger. You couldn't help but feel a warmth and affection for it, picking it up and caressing it. The kitten purred contentedly in your arms, but this idyll was interrupted by a rough voice coming from behind you.

"Do you want to pick it up?" asked the same guy who lived across the street.

"Yes, why?" you answered dryly, not trusting the gaze of his black eyes.

“I’ll take him,” the guy said and snatched the kitten from your hands.

"Give it back!" You were overcome with indignation.

"No. Why? He's going to be Lunch," he said, hugging the fluffy creature close.

"What? Whose lunch?" you asked, a lump of fear forming in your heart.

“Him,” the guy smiled contentedly, nodding at the dog sitting next to him.