Simon POV:

Simon, who has just come back from an exhausting yet thrilling mission to hunt down some Dahak demons that reportedly killed a couple of mundanes , knocked on the door to his flat.

The Dahak are known to be really dumb demons, yet they're extremely defensive and hard to kill. Simon, Jace, and Alec managed to kill them off, but not before one demon left a nasty-looking scar on Simon's left arm. It was nothing an iratze can't fix, but a faint mar remained on the spot.

Isabelle, his fiancé, opened up the door.

My fiancé, he thought. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was.

She was wearing his hoodie, which looked pretty baggy on her, and a pair of old tattered jeans. So not Isabelle.

"Where were you all that time," she demanded. She sounded like she's near to tears.

"Oh Izzy, I was off with Jace and Alec, you know, hunting some demons," he said, closing the door behind him and collapsing on the nearest couch. She, however, kept standing and looked down on him, with her hands on her hips.

"Hey! Why didn't you tell me! I would've tagged along," she protested.

"Well, I didn't want to wake you up on 7 in the morning, especially during these days of the month. You wouldn't like it of someone woke you up that early, even on a good day. Plus, it's nothing important. A bunch of the stupidest demons I've ever came across."

"Yeah, you've got a point," she said. "But at least leave a note," she added, snapping at him.

"I did leave a note! It's on the fridge!"

She sighed. "Ah, well, I didn't enter the kitchen the whole day."

"What did you eat then," he asked.

"I ordered pizza." She sighed and lied down next to him, her head on his lap. He gently stroked her dark hair.

"Why isn't there a rune for your mood?"

"There's a rune for pain, though," he pointed out.

"I can cope with the pain for a couple of days. But I just feel so depressed. And you weren't here all day long," said she.

He held her slender body against him, and murmured against her hair, "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"It's okay, I don't blame you," she whispered back.

He kissed the top of her head gently.

"Let's do something. It's only 6:30. You said you'd like to adopt a pet. We can go now; there's a pet shop just around the corner," he offered.

"But you must be tired. You don't have to do it for me. I'm okay as long as you're here," she said.

"Nope, I'm not really tired. Come on, won't you like a cute little puppy," he suggested.

"No, not really."

"Izzy, I'm not tired-"

"I want a cat. I don't like dogs much."

"Oh, okay. As you like," he agreed.

Ten minutes later, they were on the pavement headed towards the pet shop.

"I was thinking maybe a Siamese cat," suggested Isabelle.

"Like church," he asked.

"Yeah. That damned cat. I still can't believe he lets that Jem Carstairs pet him. Did you know Church belonged to Jem 130 years ago? Apparently, the cat's immortal," said she.

"Really? Wow. I've never heard of an immortal cat."

"Neither have I."

When they reached the shop, he opened the door for her and stepped aside, allowing me to head in first. Though she never admits it, she likes it when he does such chivalrous acts like opening doors or pulling out chairs for her.

A salesman approached them.

"Excuse me, can I help you," he asked.

"Yes," answered Simon. "Can you show us the cats for sale?"

"Sure, this way." He lead them to a corner where a bunch of kittens in cages where set.

"We're looking for a Siamese cat, or a Persian, perhaps," Simon stated.

He showed them several kittens, and Isabelle liked a couple: a white Siamese kitten with blue eyes and an orange Norwegian forest cat.

"Hey, can you show us that one," asked Simon. He couldn't clearly see the small kitten. It was placed aside.

"Oh, that one. Technically, it's reserved for some other customer. But it's been 1 week since he reserved it. He didn't buy it, so it's not reserved anymore. Store policy," he said, as he took the kitten out of its cage.

It was the cutest most adorable thing Simon has ever seen. It was white and gold kitten with large brown eyes. It had the cutest face ever.

"That's an exotic shorthair. Cute, ain't he?"

"Awww," said Isabelle as she took it from the employee.

"I want this one," she added.

He nodded his approval. He was still awestruck by the kitten's cuteness.

"What will we call him," asked Simon.

"Well, what about Mr. Catstairs? Because if the Mr. Carstairs didn't reclaim his cat, he wouldn't have got this cute little baby."

"Mr. Catstairs? I was thinking Oliver or Harley. But, you know what, Mr. Catstairs sounds good."