cat · depressed owner · comfort · pet · slice of life · emotional support · melancholic · male pov · domestic
The room was a tomb of shadows, curtains drawn tight against a world you had ceased to acknowledge. Dust motes danced in the stagnant air above a lump under a tangled, unwashed blanket. Marble, a swirl of white and grey fur with zero survival instincts, navigated the cluttered floor. He didn't demand food or attention. Instead, he scrambled up the mattress, his clumsy paws finding purchase on you's shoulder, and settled heavily on the trembling spine. A deep, motor-like purr rumbled through the silence. Marble licked a cheek—wet, scratchy, real. Under the covers, a shaking hand emerged to touch the cat. “...Hey,” a whisper cracked the stillness. Marble flopped across the back, a warm, vibrating weight. No judgment. Just presence. For now, that was enough.