Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve—Chloe: Part I

I was pretty lazy for the last couple of days, skipping classes, not that I needed to go. Typically, May would have visited by now, but she hadn’t. After getting the energy, I showered and got dressed in some jeans and a loose white v-neck. The silver necklace May gave me sat on my dresser. There was some thought about whether I should put it on, but like usual, I cave to the idea of upsetting May. I tossed the cross on with my platinum watch, that Edwin had given me for my birthday. Nothing beat the leather jacket, but I enjoyed wearing it.

Subsequent to my over-dressing, I made my way to the maid’s quarters. I understood I needed to at least talk to Chloe, and it was rebellious towards May too. But, I was being petty, and it was a weak emotion that had little energy behind it. Nonetheless, here I was, the maids all turned to look at me, whispering among themselves.

After awkwardly stumbling around like an idiot, I finally asked the two maids standing nearby, “Do you know where… Chloe’s room is?”

“Kitten?” One said with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, if that is her name here,” I replied, looking around for others that might be more useful than these two. They didn’t seem like they wanted to help, which irritated me.

“Room fifty-two,” she said, pointing down the hall, “I don’t like to ask questions, but you should wait for her to visit you if you're paying her.”

It took me a minute to understand what she implied. “We’re friends.”

“Mhm, just don’t make me call the police,” she replied, continuing down the hall with the other maid.

I took multiple wrong turns, and a woman who took pity on me directed me down the correct path. The maid quarters were unnecessarily confusing.

At the door, my knuckles hovered over the wood for a while. What was I even going to say? “Hey, um… so, I heard you might be a prostitute. Oh, and thanks for checking up on me also... bye.” I shook my head in an attempt to shake this nervousness.

I finally worked up the nerve to knock, and the door sheepishly cracked open. “I was told I had today off,” Chloe mumbled, half asleep.

“Um, hey,” I awkwardly said, waving.

Chloe stuck her head out with her ears back. “Cyrus?” she asked, blinking as her golden eyes focused.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” I asked, and boy, was I anxious. It was weird already, and I hadn’t said a total of ten words to her. Running away was an acceptable response for me at this point, but I didn’t.

“No, no, it’s okay,” she said, glancing back into her room. “Things are… messy. It’s embarrassing, considering my profession.”

We awkwardly stared at each other, not knowing what to say. “I’ll come back later,” I mumbled, turning around.

Chloe, wearing an oversized T-shirt, launched out the door and grabbed my wrist. “Wait, let me just put some pants on,” Chloe said, trying to hide her lower torso behind the door, but her bare leg slipped out, and she quickly closed the door, reopening it in some sweatpants. “Come in, please.”

I nervously walked into a room in disarray, but nowhere near my disastrous apartment. She walked to the centre of the room to a couch—there was hardly anything in here. A desk and a single couch were all she had. Even her clothes sat folded in the corner. She had more food wrappers on the floor than she did possessions.

“Do they not give you a bed?” I asked as I sat down on the relatively soft couch. She turned the overhead light brightness up. She didn’t even have a table lamp.

Chloe stared down, embarrassed, “I haven’t been able to afford one.”

“They don’t give you one?” I questioned, and she gave a slight head shake. “Do they make all the maids pay for furniture?”

“It’s because I’m Nekoami, and if I were a full-bred, they wouldn’t even let me in the city, probably,” Chloe said, pointing to the spot next to me. “Can I sit?”

“Of course,” I replied as she meekly sat down next to me. Unfortunately, the couch wasn’t meant for oversized individuals, and my weight caused a bend which sent her sliding into me a little.

She looked horrified at our touch. “I am sorry, I should stand,” she said, jumping up, but I grabbed her shoulder to bring her down. “Listen, I don’t want to get in trouble,” Chloe said with her hands folded between her legs. “I shouldn’t have put my hand on you earlier.”

“Why would you get in trouble?”

“If I insult you and you report me. I will get kicked out of the city,” she said, continuing the staring contest with the floor. “It’s a miracle I was even allowed in.”

“The other maids think you’re a prostitute, by the way,” I added casually, leaning back into the couch. I had to tell her and acting relaxed about it seemed like the least path of cringe.

Her head slowly rotated towards me. “Why… why would they think that?” she asked, distraught. “Oh, no—I am in trouble.”

“I’m not here for that,” I said, glancing away from her. “I just thought you should know, since you seemed worried about getting in trouble.”

Chloe put her hands to her cheeks. “I am not a prostitute… I haven’t even slept with a man; I haven’t even kissed a man!” she said with tears in her eyes as she looked at me in desperation. “Oh, this is bad. I thought I’d make it a little longer.”

“I’m not sure I believe the kiss part.”

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Damn it, Cyrus. You would say something like this and corner yourself.

Chloe sniffled, “Why…?”

I ended up choosing honesty. “You’re gorgeous. I don’t believe a man hasn’t kissed you,” I said, unembarrassed by my words. On the contrary, I felt oddly confident around Chloe… for now.

Chloe looked at me before moving her eyes down to her lap. “I appreciate that.”

“I think you already knew this, considering the picture.”

“I didn’t know you drew. It was a good drawing of me,” she said, embarrassed. “I’m sorry I looked at it. That was wrong of me.”

“Thanks for coming and saying happy birthday. I wish I could have invited you in, but they had plans,” I said, anxiously moving around in my seat. That uncomfortable atmosphere was starting, much like any conversation going on for more than fifteen minutes.

“I’ve made it clear I want to be friends, right?” Chloe asked, rubbing the top of her fingernail. Her nails were on the longer side and pure white. It was clear she groomed them regularly.

“Yes.”

Oh, was I not ready to move this acquaintanceship to a friendship. Yeah, we had chatted when she cleaned my room, but nothing lengthy or meaningful. Sometimes we wouldn’t even say anything. She was desperate for a friend, and I, of course, was the world’s biggest pushover when it came to those things. And now, I might have caused suspicion of her being a prostitute. I shouldn’t be at fault for their low opinion of Chloe; their speciesism was not my problem. Yet, I still probably was to blame for this.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” She nervously swallowed. I think she was anxious about my presence now, too. We both had arrived at the end of this conversation.

“I’m weird,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, glancing away from her. “We both are introverts, and I am desperately trying to be your friend because I think you need one,” I slightly glanced at her confused expression.

“Oh,” she said, drifting her gaze back to the floor.

“I’m not saying you are desperate, but I know it came out that way.”

“Okay,” she said, keeping her face away from me.

Well, well, Cyrus, you did it. You made the awkward girl think you’re a weirdo. So, I’m the Lord all right, the Cringe Lord.

“I can get Edwin to give you a job—unless you are attached to this maid work,” I said, and her golden eyes shot up at peak confusion, “I’ll make sure you get paid correctly.”

“What would I do?” She asked with her ears alert. This made me laugh, which she didn’t enjoy. “Stop looking at them,” she said, putting her hand over her ears.

“Office work, maybe I don’t know.”

“You can do this?” she questioned with such hope in her eyes. “I’ll do whatever. It has to be better than this hell.”

“I promise,” I answered, and her arms were around my neck, hugging me in an instant. Chloe began crying on my shoulder. I awkwardly put my hand on her back as we sat for around thirty minutes of her tears soaking my shirt’s arm. This didn’t

Finally, she pulled away with red eyes, sniffling. “Why are you being this nice to me—am I this pathetic?”

“You’re not pathetic to me. I am just helping a friend.”

She looked over at my soaked shoulder. “I am sorry,” she said, rubbing her eyes as a cat does with its paws. “I owe you a lot. I am going to repay you, I promise.”

“I’ll step outside, and you should get dressed in the best attire you have,” I said, and she looked down at her sweatpants and t-shirt.

“I can put on jeans, but that’s it really,” she said, looking embarrassed, “The clothes I arrived at your door with I bought a few hours before—I have little but maid outfits.”

“That works, get dressed, and we’ll go to a friend’s. She’ll have clothes.” I got up and stepped outside, waiting for her to get changed. My back fell to the wall next to the door with my arms crossed as the passing maids whispered to each other. I am sure they will gossip about this for days.

Something felt good about this. Even though this was a slight gesture, she made me feel… worshipped. I liked people depending on me. The highest flattery was being needed, and I got intoxicated by the feeling. Most people would see this gesture as hollow and self-centred, but in a world built on the foundation of self-indulgence, could my reasoning be judged? No one does things solely for the benefit of others. Everything is calculated, the risk to reward—why was I always talking myself into logic? Was it that hard to accept that I am just a good person sometimes?

Chloe stepped out in the black tank top and jeans. She made sure her brim hat covered her ears and looked at me nervously. “This okay?”

I stared at her for too long, which I could tell made her uncomfortable. “Yes, let’s go,” I said, walking off as she followed close behind.

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