The next morning, Phoenix didn't immediately remember what had happened. He glanced up, nervous to find himself in an apartment he didn't at all recognize, but when it occurred to him that everything was much too large, the previous night's event came flooding back, and he calmed down as he studied his surroundings. He hadn't paid much attention to the apartment when Diego had first brought him in; he'd found himself distracted by the man's skilled fingers (he suddenly found himself aching to have his ears scratched again as he remembered) as well as his own swirling thoughts. Now, however, he took in the place keenly.
He was, at the moment, curled up atop Diego's chest as the older man slept. Rather uncomfortable with that particular position, he jumped off, onto the edge of the bed. The bedroom was small, or perhaps simply crowded – on all the walls, bookcases loomed over him, each stacked to the brim with books. Some were legal books, a fact which did not surprise Phoenix in the least. However, had he been human, he would have raised an eyebrow upon catching sight of titles such as "Jane Eyre" and "Pride and Prejudice" in between towers of legalese. Beside the bed on the right was a small night table, upon which sat a coffee maker with a timer (Phoenix rolled his eyes) and the visor which enabled the man to see. It occurred to Phoenix that he had an opportunity to see the man without the visor at this point, and he curiously turned back to face Diego.
He was startled to see th ex-Prosecutor, an expression of utter peace written across his dark features. Phoenix gently ran a paw across the long scar that marred the otherwise serene-looking face, awed by what he'd went through for the sake of Maya, whom he hadn't really even known. He withdrew, however, when Diego stirred, letting out a soft moan. After several moments, he rose and sought out his visor, attaching it. His attention fell upon Phoenix shortly after.
"Ah, buenos días, little one." He grinned, and Phoenix was startled to realize that it wasn't the same shark-like grin he'd displayed from the Prosecutor's bench all those times they had battled in the courtroom. No, it was a softer, gentler expression, one of happiness and not malice. It wasn't something he was used to seeing. "So," Diego said, unaware of the mixed thoughts swirling about in the kitten's head as he scooped him up, "I think we need a name for you, don't we?" He paused, thinking, and Phoenix recognized it as an opportunity to attempt to make his identity known. He attempted to squirm out of Diego's grasp, mewling with great conviction.
"Hm?" Diego looked down. Phoenix stiffened as he was lifted by the back of his neck, held aloft in front of a tanned, frowning face. Once again, Phoenix found himself marveling at just how large the man seemed in the situation, and his protests, both verbal and physical, halted. Diego pursed his lips thoughtfully, silent for several moments as he regarded the kitten in his hand, before muttering, "What a strange one you are." There was a dazed tone to his voice, as though his thoughts and speech were not entirely in communion, and Phoenix imagined that if the man's eyes had been visible, they would probably have had the same faraway look that he was so used to seeing in Maya's gaze. Phoenix could do nothing but stare, unsure of what to make of the tense situation.
After several uncomfortably long moments (at least, uncomfortable for Phoenix), Diego set him down on the end of the bed and climbed out. Phoenix watched as the man trudged into the bathroom, wearing nothing but boxers, and, feeling slightly embarrassed at what he felt could only be described as an intrusion upon Diego's privacy, Phoenix turned away. It was strange—he had seen the man change out of his clothes the night before without thinking much of it, but now, he felt rather like he was spying on someone the morning after, when he was supposed to be leaving. Which was, of course, a silly notion by all accounts. Not only had he obviously not slept with Diego Armando, but he would not ever consider doing so—not even if he were human. Nor did he intend to leave any time soon—not without finding a way to explain who he was. All logic dictated that it was silly to be embarrassed, and so Phoenix, a man of logic through and through, turned back in Diego's direction. The man had, however, already entered the bathroom, and Phoenix found himself looking at an empty doorway. He waited for a minute before jumping down (his landing was perfect; it was a disconcerting feeling) and trotting through the doorway to look up at Diego.
He was just spitting toothpaste into the sink as Phoenix walked in, and flashed a toothy smile to the feline, teeth glinting. "Not so unfriendly now, gatito?" He brought water to his mouth in a cupped hand and swished before spitting again. He then lowered himself down to a crouching position, and stretched his hand out until he was nearly touching Phoenix's nose. Instinct urged the defense attorney to tentatively sniff at the outstretched fingers, and he was surprised by the amount of sensory information the action provided. His feline characteristics easily allowed him to process it. Most noticeable was the musk that marked him as a human male. It was a smell he, of course, recognized, but had never noticed nearly so much as a human. No new information there. It had a distinct quality to it, though. Bitter and acidic. Coffee, he realized after a moment, recalling the man's fondness for the drink. More interesting was a new awareness through smell—emotion. Even had he been able to speak, Phoenix didn't think he could explain exactly how he knew that the soft tang in Diego's scent was sadness. But somehow, he did, and without thinking, he rubbed his cheek against the large palm, offering up comfort.
Diego's lips twitched at the corners as he stroked the kitten's head softly. Phoenix was pleased to note that the unhappy tinge to Diego's scent diminished, even if not completely, as he shut his eyes and purred softly. It was a very content moment, and he might have enjoyed it forever, if Diego hadn't stood abruptly and stalked into his bedroom, leaving a dazed and confused cat sitting and nuzzling the air.
Phoenix didn't follow him this time.
