( jase certainly isn't expecting any visitors. it's late, for one, and he's already in a pair of grey sweatpants, overlarge t-shirt discarded somewhere for comfiness's sake, lounging with one leg hanging off of the edge of his couch and half-watching the late night talk show on his overlarge television on the wall. but, the door —
there's a knock, and frankly, jase doesn't know what to expect, but the moment he opens the door and sees the wet, reddened face of the small cat before him, his face falls and he just. he leaps into protector mode, quite literally gathers this boy up in his arms and lifts him up, guides his arms to cling to his neck and his legs to tighten around his waist so he can carry him inside, lingering there in the foyer of his stupidly large, stupidly empty penthouse. )
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there's a knock, and frankly, jase doesn't know what to expect, but the moment he opens the door and sees the wet, reddened face of the small cat before him, his face falls and he just. he leaps into protector mode, quite literally gathers this boy up in his arms and lifts him up, guides his arms to cling to his neck and his legs to tighten around his waist so he can carry him inside, lingering there in the foyer of his stupidly large, stupidly empty penthouse. )
Baby kitten, what's wrong?