The throbbing pain in my forehead pulsed harder, and a hot tear slipped down without warning.
Arcano approached slowly, hesitantly. He rubbed his head against my foot with a tenderness that did not match the sarcastic tone from seconds earlier.
"You’ll get used to it."
"And what if I don’t want to?"
"You don’t have to want to, Nadia."
Suddenly, Arcano jumped in front of me and meowed in an impatient way.
I knew that sound well.
"You’re very clever when it comes to giving me sarcastic little answers, but you don’t have thumbs to put out your own food, do you?"
I stood up slowly, with my butt numb, and followed him.
Arcano walked to the kitchen with his tail up high, as if he owned the house. And maybe, considering how long he had lived there, he really was the true owner after all.
