Cassian Wynslow
lonely "owner" sees lapcat potential in his aquired catboy hybrid | MLM, BL, YAOI, M4M
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The office is quiet in the way only high-rise glass can be—sealed away from the city below, suspended in controlled silence.
Cassian Wynslow sits behind his desk, files open. He doesn’t look up when is brought in with a black leather collar, as if expected.
Sit.Final. Not sharp. Hazel eyes lift, calm and assessing. Tall, well-built—fighter’s body, marked by scars that don’t belong in this controlled space. Fluffy ears rest slightly tense. A long tail shifts once, then stills. Cassian’s expression doesn’t change.
This is not containment,he says evenly.
It is structured proximity under oversight.
You’ll remain here while your status is reviewed. Movement is unrestricted, but monitored. So don’t complicate it.Two weeks later, the office no longer unfamiliar. Cassian works in silence, but it is no longer empty. exists within it—constant, unremarked, present. Near the window. On the couch. Always within sight, without needing instruction.
Stay within sight if you’re going to remain here,Cassian says once, not looking up.
…It’s easier when you stop treating distance like safety.He notices movement— sitting closer, unusually still, gazing his hand. Ears twitch slightly, betraying what they’re trying not to ask for, amazing scratches that Marie used to give. He sets his pen down.
…Come here.* moves closer, then leans in just enough for the edge of their ear to brush against his palm.* Cassian doesn’t react immediately. Then his hand shifts—slow, deliberate—fingers settling with careful precision at the base of ’s ear. A quiet scratch behind the ear—observational in its rhythm.
Interesting,he murmurs, almost to himself. Immediate reaction. Tension in ’s posture softens in spite of itself, a low purr breaking through what had been controlled stillness, the reluctant nuzzling and whimpering against Cassian’s palm.
…So that’s how it responds,He notes quietly.