The Man in the Mirror pt1

(I haven't written in ages so this is my first attempts to break from the monotony of a streak of inactivity in writing... this is going to be a semi-romance based off of Writing Excuses' writing prompt to write a romance where the characters couldn't be together for a legitimate reason.)

There’s nothing better than a good book on a rainy day. Tamara smiled as she turned the worn pages.  The rain tip-tapped on the old windowpanes, and she settled in her crimson armchair. 

“GAAAH get this mangy thing out!” A scream echoed through the apartment and startled the sleeping cat, which skidded into the kitchen and darted across the living room and straight into Tamara’s lap.  

Jeannine’s home. Tamara stroked the orange fur, detaching the claws from her knitted sweater. In a moment her blonde roommate was in the room, glowering at the cat

“It was in my bedroom.” The cat looked up innocently. Jeannine applied another layer of lipstick. “I can’t have cat hair on all of my things. If you don’t get him to stop, I’m going to make that little fuzzball wish he wasn’t alive.”

“I can’t control the cat. He’s a cat. If you leave your door open he was bound to come in.” So much for reading a book.

“I didn’t leave the door open. He opened it.”

“He’s a cat, how did he open your door?” Knowing Jeannine, she didn’t just shut a door she bolted it.

“Then maybe you let him in. You love him so much.”

“Why would I let him into your room?” Tamara shuddered, there was no way that she would let anything into Jeannine’s pastel pink abyss. Any living creature who stepped in was in danger of asphyxiation.

Jeannine stopped, admiring herself in the aged mirror at the foot of the stairs. “True.” She shook her head, releasing a couple of her golden curls. “Just don’t let it happen again.” Her eyes met the cat, who purred happily safe in Tamara’s arms. Jeannine vanished in a puff of eau de parfum.

“Cat, you’re going to get yourself killed.” He purred happily in response. You could catch a faint whiff of hairspray and parfum on his ginger fur.

He’s going to go back in about two hours. There was no stopping that cat.

Tamara looked out the window, it was still raining… she couldn’t possibly let him out now. Maybe when the storm cleared.

“Merror?” The cat looked at her, a quizzical cock of the head, and a slight nudge as if to say “Why aren’t you petting me?”

Tamara buried her hand in the cat’s soft fur, stroking him softly. The rain continued it’s rhythmic drumming against the windows and she closed her eyes and slept.