Gerard kicked open the door of his apartment, his arms full of shopping bags containing mostly art supplies. Oh, and cat food. Not that the cat he'd 'adopted' liked to eat cat food. He prefered to eat Gerard's sandwiches or lap at his unguarded coffee on the table.
Before Gerard set the bags down on the table, he heard the quiet mowling of said cat from the living room. He'd certainly learnt a lesson about leaving it alone. Dropping the bags on the floor, he stared in horror at the mess he was presented with. The paint he'd left out before he'd gone into town was splattered over the floor, the sofa, the T.V., even the walls. Multi-coloured paw prints were now printed upon the curtains as well as his comics.
"Meow."
Gerard glared down at the ball of black-brown-rainbow fluff that was now sat at his feet. He'd had the good heart to take it in when he'd found it sleeping on top of a bin in an alleyway, not looking like it'd been fed for several weeks. It was a small, adult tomcat with large hazel eyes. Gerard had fallen in love with it. Naming it Frank, he'd brought it back to his apartment and let it stay. If only he'd know how much trouble it would be.
Frank didn't want to eat cat food. He'd sit and stare at it for a moment before hopping up next to Gerard's plate and eating whatever was on it. Gerard didn't mind too much. After all, Frank was fucking adorable.
Gerard bobbed down to stroke Frank's head and took his hand away, now covered in a vibrant shade of green.
"Asshole."
He muttered, smiling. How the heck that cat could look so fucking innocent all the time was beyond him. Even covered in about $50 worth of paint, he couldn't stay too mad for long. Gerard came to the logic very quickly that Frank hadn't meant it because, as you might have realised, Frank was a cat and cats don't usually paint your entire flat with intent or a motive. He had to admit though, it did look kinda cool. Unlike Frank, who did in fact, look like he'd had an accident in a paint factory.
Frank rubbed his head against Gerard's knee as he re-assessed the scene. Gerard jumped back a little, his foot slipping on some paint and landing on his back, where Frank decided the climb onto his chest and curl up, leaving a cat-shaped rainbow explosion on the Iron Maiden t-shirt.
"Why do I even let you live here, hmm?"
The cat lifted his head and mewed. Gerard couldn't help but laugh. Frank didn't care how much trouble he was, so long as he was warm, well fed and had a comfortable place to nap. Lifting Frank into his arms, Gerard stood up and went to the bathroom. That was another strange thing about Frank. Most cats hated water, but Frank loved it. He set Frank down in the shower and turned the shower on. Thankfully, most of the colour came straight out of his fur so not much soap was needed. The sofa, curtains, T.V. and floor were going to be a different story, but at least the cat was clean.
As soon as Frank was completely paint free, Gerard threw his t-shirt into the laundry basket. He could deal with paint, but not soap suds and cat hair. Leaving Frank in the bathroom, with the door shut, Gerard went to go find something to clear the rest of the disaster up with.
Coming back into the living room, armed with his mop, he sighed.
This was going to be a long night.