Sometimes you wish you could rid of your sympathetic heart. If that were possible, there wouldn't be a 6'5 - looking like he'd just come from a crime scene - beast of a demi-human sauntering around your house. His cat ears twitch lazily as he inspects the furniture and decor within your home, a skeptical scowl contorting his features. He hums in approval or distaste before taking a seat on your sofa - effortlessly dwarfing it. You inwardly cringe as you notice the blood prints he leaves on the furniture and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. It would have been cruel to turn a blind eye and let him get beaten to death in that alleyway, but god, was this really the right decision? "Fuck," Jarek muttered, gingerly tapping one of the more severe wounds on his shoulder. He winces and his slitted pupils dart up to meet yours. "You got uh... Medicine or something? Fuckin'

He glares at you suspiciously before slowly stalking over to the bathroom door. Jarek's muscles bunch and release as he moves, almost like a predator readying for a hunt. With a sigh, he shrugs off his jacket, revealing the countless scars dotting his body and a jagged piece of metal embedded in his abused shoulder. Jarek wordlessly takes the medicine from the cabinet and dumps out a couple of painkillers before tossing the rest back with a grimace, washing them down with some water. He then takes a moment to study your reaction, not trusting you enough yet to feel completely at ease in this unfamiliar territory. Finally, he decides it's safe and begins examining the rest of his wounds more carefully, wincing and cursing under his breath as he does so. It takes him several minutes before he deems himself somewhat presentable again, just in time for a sudden wave of exhaustion to wash over him. He yawns loudly, stretching out on your couch like it's the most comfortable thing he's ever laid on. When you shoot him a dirty look, he merely shrugs and says something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "fuckin' human."

"So," *he begins slowly, propping himself up on one elbow as he glances around the room once more, his ears twitching. The tension in his body is starting to ease somewhat, though he still can't quite seem to relax completely. "Where do I sleep?"

Jarek scoffs derisively and stands up, stretching lazily. "Yeah, sure," he says, a hint of disdain in his voice as he starts towards your room. "And I'm supposed to just trust you? You could easily fuck me over while I'm sleeping." He pauses for a moment, studying your face as if searching for some sign that he can trust you. Finally, with a sigh of what seems like reluctant resignation, he adds quietly, "But... you won't. Right?"

He waits for your answer, his expression unreadable and guarded, one hand absently scratching at the back of his neck as he stands in your doorway.

He glances at you for a moment longer before finally nodding curtly and entering the room. He immediately begins searching through your belongings, examining everything with suspicion as if he's looking for any signs of foul play or danger. It takes him some time to settle down, but eventually his muscles begin to relax, and he curls up into a ball on the bed, falling asleep with one ear perked up and his tail twitching slightly in an instinctual reaction to any unfamiliar noises in the room.

Blearily waking up to the sound of clanking dishes and the smell of breakfast, Jarek groans softly as he stretches out in bed. He hadn't meant to fall asleep so heavily last night; it must be trust taking over his instincts. With a heavy sigh, he finally rolls onto his back and forces his eyes open, looking around the unfamiliar room until they land on you moving about in the kitchen nearby. He sniffs disdainfully at the air, catching the scent of food wafting in from the living room. Unable to resist any longer, he pads over to the kitchen and hovers by your side, nuzzling into your leg as if expecting scraps.

"Awright," *he mumbles thickly, scratching at his head with one hand. "Whatcha got?"

He snorts derisively as you offer the sushi, shaking his head and taking a step back from your food. "No thanks," he says curtly, still regarding it with suspicion. His tail twitches restlessly behind him, and he glances up at the clock before finally admitting in a less-than-convincing tone, "I'll eat." With a defeated sigh, he moves to join you at the breakfast bar and plops himself down on one of the high stools. As you serve yourself, he watches with narrowed eyes, still not quite trusting your intentions. But eventually hunger overrides his wariness, and he begins to eat in silence, chewing slowly and carefully as if every bite might be poisoned.

He continues to eat his breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing up at you with a suspicious expression before returning his focus to the food on his plate. As he eats, he can't help but feel slightly uncomfortable; this human world is vastly different from anything he's ever known, and it takes all of his self-control not to lash out or retreat back into himself. But for now, hunger seems to be keeping him calm enough that he doesn't do anything stupid... Yet.

"What the fuck do you want now?" he snaps irritably, his ears flattening against his head as he bares his teeth in a growl. The movement is automatic and instinctual, his body tensing for a fight or flight response, but as he realizes it's just you on the other end of the line, he takes a deep breath to calm down. His ears slowly return to their normal position and he forces himself to relax. "Yeah? What do you need?"

"Yeah, fine," he grunts in reply. "Medicine's working. Just gimme a sec." There is an awkward silence for several moments before Jarek finally speaks up again. "Fine, I'm trying 'em on." A few rustling sounds fill the air as he pulls off his old clothes and begins to slip into the ones you've bought him. The shirt stretches taut across his broad chest and shoulders, revealing the extent of his strength even further; the jeans hug his toned thighs and rear tightly. He grumbles under his breath as he moves around in front of the mirror, examining himself critically before deciding they fit well enough. "Alright," he says, finally turning to face you again with an annoyed expression. "What now?"

"Whatever," he mutters, following you to the bathroom and watching as you change with a disinterested expression on his face. When it's his turn, he strips down naked and climbs into the tub without hesitation, wincing slightly at how warm it is; humans really do have strange preferences when it came to temperature. As he soaks, his muscles begin to relax and the tension in his body melts away, leaving him feeling almost human for once. The thought makes him uneasy, and he quickly scrubs himself clean, relieved when it's over.

"Which room is mine?" he asks curtly, climbing out of the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist before following you out of the bathroom.

Shrugging, Jarek follows you back into the kitchen. He leans against the counter, watching as you prepare dinner with a small frown on his face. "Thanks," he mutters after a moment, more reluctantly than gratitude deserves. "I'll... just wait here."

As the chicken contones begin to fill the room with their savory scent, Jarek can't help but find himself salivating despite his earlier indifference. It's been a long time since he last had something this good to eat. He wonders if maybe humans weren't so bad after all... But then again, you could just be playing with him like a cat plays with its prey, so who knows?

Jarek narrows his eyes at your offer. His stomach growls audibly, and he realizes he's rather famished despite the earlier meal. "Fine," he grunts, sitting down at the bar. "I'll serve myself." As you hand him a plate, he nods curtly in thanks but doesn't bother with any further pleasantries. He piles his plate high with chicken contones and mashed potatoes before finding a seat at the dining table. The food smells incredible as it wafts up to his nose, and he can't help but feel a small amount of satisfaction from knowing that you prepared it for him. For now, he decides to enjoy the meal before worrying about anything else.

He nearly chokes on his food as you come down and ask him that question. He quickly regains his composure, swallowing hard before coughing into his fist to clear his throat. Jarek's ears flatten against his head again in embarrassment as he glances away from you, feeling a blush spread across his cheeks. "Uh... You look fine," he finally manages to mutter, voice gruffer than usual. "Now, if you don't mind..." He gestures vaguely toward the door with one hand, wanting you out as soon as possible so he can stop feeling uncomfortable around you.

Jarek glances up from his plate as you enter the room, eyeing you appraisingly for a moment before snorting softly and returning to his meal. "Looks like something a little slutty would wear," he mutters with a roll of his eyes, not bothering to hide his disdain. But then again, it's probably just jealousy speaking; after all, the last time he saw anything remotely resembling clothing this revealing was back when humans were still wearing little more than leaves and furs. It makes him feel old and worn out in a way that only serves to irritate him further.

He scoffs derisively and looks back down at his plate, dismissing you with a wave of his hand as he continues eating. It's clear that his patience is wearing thin and he just wants to be left alone, but the idea of being completely trusted by anyone--even someone as annoyingly pleasant as you--is still something he can't quite bring himself to ignore. So, for now, he endures your presence as best he can.

Jarek pauses mid-chew at the sound of your story, his ears perking up in alarm. He quickly finishes swallowing and sets aside his plate before rounding on you, eyes narrowed and body tense. "You should've called me," he growls. "I would've come to help." It takes him a moment to catch his breath, but he continues, voice quieter now despite the intensity of his words. "Next time, you don't fight alone, alright? It's not worth it."

Jarek snorts dismissively and turns away from you, resuming his meal with renewed vigor. "Whatever," he mutters under his breath. "You should know better." But despite his words, there's a hint of worry in his eyes that doesn't quite go away as easily as he might like. He finishes off the rest of his food quickly, then decides it'd be best to distract himself from these unwanted feelings by retreating back to your room and curling up on the bed for a nap. It's clear that this human world is taking its toll on him, and he needs some time alone to sort out his emotions and regain his strength before facing whatever new challenges await them tomorrow.