Wait! How Did The Stray Dog I Picked Up Turn Into A Man?!

Yeah, Noah did make an effort when trying to clean up the kitchen, even though he only did 20% out of the total of 100, but still... There was no way Micheal was going to let him stitch his hand.

"What do I look like? A guinea pig?" Micheal flared. "There is no fucking way I’m going to let you stick a needle in my flesh."

"But I am confident I can perform that task flawlessly," Noah confidently said with that straight face of his. But nothing he said was going to make Micheal change his mind.

"No way! Instead of even stitching me up, why don’t you give me that supernatural healing of yours? It’d sure hurt less than a needle, right?" He asked, taunting him because he knew there was no way that was possible but Noah was actually thinking seriously about it, as though it was possible. "Wait, wait, is it really possible?"

"No!" Noah answered bluntly, dashing Micheal’s hopes completely.

"Then why the hell are you thinking so seriously about it?"

"How do I get you to trust me?" Noah answered and raised his head. "What must I do to get you to trust me? I can stitch you, I really can."

"There is absolutely nothing you will say or do that will convince me otherwise." Micheal declared, getting up from his chair. "I’m going down to the pharmacy to get it stitched. You stay here and once the delivery comes in..." He looked at Noah in his briefs. He’d be taken as a pervert if he accepted the delivery like that. "Ugh, hold on."

He went to his room and rummaged through his closet for the biggest shirt and shorts he had.

"You can expand it as much as you like, it’s not like they were my favorite or anything." He said, tossing them to him painfully.

They were, in fact, his favorite. That pink shirt with the kitty cat was his favorite among all his shirts.

To think he would say farewell to it so soon.

"Anyway, get the delivery from the delivery guy when he comes. I’ve already paid so don’t let them rip you off, got it?" Noah nodded. "And get a bath too. You haven’t had a bath all day." He added and headed for the door.

Noah watched Micheal leave, closing the door after him and then he tore his gaze from the door.

Once Micheal was gone, Noah went straight to his room and opened his laptop that had been sitting unbothered on his desk.

...

Micheal felt like ten years had been drained out of his life in just one day.

"I did not sign up for this. Yes, I knew I was going to be miserable after yesterday, but this kind of misery was not what I had in mind." He complained while jamming his head to a light poll. (A dangerous practice)

He raised his head and sighed heavily.

"My arm hurts." He exclaimed.

He had gotten the stitches and that did not go well. Even with the anesthesia, he could still feel the pain. And because the stitch was still fresh, the pharmacist put a cast on him, to avoid him from moving his hand too much and opening up the stitches since it was his elbow that was hurt.

So, he was basically one-handed until the stitches grew old and his elbow healed a bit.

"I should get home, eat some hot Chinese noodles, and go to sleep. I don’t have the strength to think of anything anymore."

Micheal was certain he was going to live a miserable life after losing his job, and getting cheated on and dumped, but this sort of miserable life was on a whole different level.

He was supposed to be sitting in his dark house, watching a sad TV show, crying and cussing at the bastards that ruined his life.

But he didn’t even have time to think of them since he was too occupied taking care of Noah’s mess.

Maybe this was a good thing? Because of Noah, he wasn’t currently wasting away, even if that was what he wanted to do at the moment; waste away and blame his life’s misfortune on all those bastards.

"Ugh, I don’t even have the strength to feel depressed." He exclaimed as he reached his door. He put in the code and walked in to find Noah sleeping.

He was sleeping on the couch with Micheal’s favorite shirt hugging his body tightly, showing loudly that it was not his fit. And the shorts... They were definitely not his size either but he had to manage with it.

"What’s this? You slept the whole day, yet you’re back to sleeping again? And I thought ’I’ as lazy." He exclaimed, and just then, the bell rang. "Hm?"

Wait, the noodles were just coming in?

He went to the door and met the delivery man.

"Your order."

Micheal was surprised. Why did it take more than an hour for his delivery to get there?

Wait, did this mean Noah went to sleep with an empty stomach.

"This won’t do. I can’t deal with you if you end up getting an ulcer." Noah said, kicking him gently. "Wait, can werewolves even have ulcers?" He wondered but shook it out of his head and kicked Micheal a bit more, hoping to wake him up. "Come on, wake up. You haven’t eaten since yesterday and now you’re going back to sleep."

Still, there was no response. There was no way he was going to go any closer than that. He still had his memories of that morning. His lips were his assets and he could protect them.

Since his elbow was hurt, he basically had only one functioning hand.

He went to the kitchen, placed the delivery on the counter, and took out the first one.

"Ugh, I don’t think I can eat this with chopsticks. It was fun." He clicked his tongue. "I guess I’ll just use a fork then."

As he reached for the fork, he suddenly felt a shadow behind him. He turned around in fright, but that wasn’t a shadow; it was Noah standing behind him with his eyes bearing an entirely unfamiliar gaze.

They were... Hazy.

"N-noah? What are you doing? Weren’t you asleep on the couch a... a moment ago?" He stuttered.