Disclaimer: I do not own the musical Cats or any of its characters.
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He found her, as always, sniffling in the back of her den.
She didn't notice as he entered, or if she did, she gave no indication. She didn't even look up as his arm went around her, only turned to bury her head in his chest.
The tears fell with renewed intensity. He knew she needed him there with her before she could let herself go. He was her comfort blanket, her protective cloak. Her best friend.
And nothing more.
"Him again?" he whispered, and she nodded mutely. He sighed. "You can't let him keep doing this to you. He's no good for you. He doesn't care what it does to you."
"I know," she mumbled, and he felt her lips moving against his chest as she spoke. He barely resisted the urge to shudder at the feel of it, instead letting a comforting purr rumble through him, vibrating his entire body and soothing her as she clung to him, sobbing.
Eventually the tears dried and she pulled back, looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes. The fur of her face was wet and salty from her crying, but she ignored it, as she always did.
"I know," she repeated, determination lighting in her eyes. "I won't let him keep doing this. I'll stop it—I'll tell him, no more. He can't keep doing this." She stood. He rose to his feet instinctively, always the gentletom, and smiled at her waveringly.
She wouldn't do it. She never did.
"It all stops, today," she said confidently—so sure of herself. So sure that the pain, the doubt, was over forever. She always was.
He knew better.
"Thank you, Misto," Electra said, true gratitude in her eyes. She didn't seem to recall all the other times they'd done this, all the other times she'd taken refuge in the tuxedo tom's arms and promised him that she would stop it all, today.
She stepped forward, reaching out her arms for him. But instead of collapsing into him again, she embraced him swiftly, kissing his cheek and prancing out of the den, her tail swishing behind her.
Mistoffelees stood there for a moment, daring to hope. She seemed so determined this time—more than usual. Happier. Brighter. She would do it today, and she would realize that there were other toms out there, toms that would keep her this happy forever. Toms that would hold her when she cried and tell her she was beautiful even when others told her she was not, toms that would make stupid jokes and fools of themselves just to see her rare, brilliant smiles, toms that would spend the better part of their day just sitting and listening to her talk simply to hear the sound of her voice—
Toms like him.
A smile crossed the conjurer's face. Yes. Electra would come to realize that he was the type of tom she needed. He could be more than a friend and a comfort, he could be a lover and a mate and everything she would ever want—
He could be deluding himself into hoping.
It was only the next day that he found her in her usual position, eyes shining too bright with tears she would never shed in public, standing pathetically in front of him.
The Rum Tum Tugger gazed down at her cruelly, one arm around Etcetera and the other around Jemima. The two queen-kittens were too ecstatic at having gained his attention to notice how hurt their friend was.
"Sorry, 'Lectra, babe," he was saying in a tone that said that he was not sorry at all, "but looks like I already got my two pretty queens right here. Why don't you go find some of the tom-kittens to play with? That's what you like doing, isn't it? Heh, you could probably be a tom yourself, for all the time you spend around them."
Mistoffelees felt his blood boiling with hatred, but he contained himself. It would do no good to attack the Tugger—Electra, hurt as she was, loved him still. She would be devasted if her best friend attacked her idol.
His hatred took a new turn. Why did she love him? Why did she continue to let him do this to her? She must realize by now that he did not want her, that he would only scorn her again and again until she was broken beyond repair. It was stupid, foolish to go back to him! And then to expect Mistoffelees to pick up the pieces!
Well, no more. He was through with the game. She would have to fix herself.
But as the little queen fled to the dark safety of her den, Mistoffelees found himself following. He couldn't…he had to…
He was just as bad as she.
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A/N: So, who can guess what song inspired this little fic? Shouldn't be too hard to guess.
Just another very quick little piece...I don't really like having such short pieces, but I thought it would be best not to drag it out any longer.