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

Michael sat on the floor, the foot of his bedside, hugging his knees and squirming his toes. He felt horrible. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his belly.

This was why he didn’t want to face his mother. And after hearing how she talked and acted today, how she didn’t care about his words a single bit, he began to ask himself if the notion that he believed was actually a fabricated story he told himself every day in order to get by in that family.

Had his parents indeed loved him at some point, and he believed? Had they ever taken his interest to heart even once? Or was that all just nonsense he made himself believe because he needed some kind of placebo treatment?

Since they never raised their hands on him or insulted him in his face, he was able to delude himself long enough, even when it was clear that they only ever did what was best for Mark and paid attention to him afterwards. That is... If Mark ever allowed them to.

The door to his room opened, and he raised his head to see Noah walking in.

"Is she gone?" He asked, but it should be clear that she was gone, given Noah had returned.

Or... She might just be lurking around the door and yelling at the top of her lungs like a mad woman.

But since he did not hear anything, he thought she might be gone.

"Yeah," Noah answered. "I chased her away."

Michael nodded and looked away, dropping his chin on his knees.

"I told you, didn’t I?" He asked Michael. "I told you there was no helping it. He has them wrapped around their fingers, and they will only believe what they choose to believe. And they chose to believe Mark."

Noah sat on the floor right next to him.

"He must be in a really bad state for my mother to have gone crazy like that," Michael said, slowly fluttering his eyelashes. "His condition must make him look like the victim. It’s the perfect evidence to frame me. I ruined their perfect son. Heh," he scoffed. "Maybe I should’ve rebelled a long time ago, and then I wouldn’t need to stand for this nonsense. I wouldn’t be this hurt either. I feel pathetic."

Noah listened to him quietly, since that was what Michael would want. Someone to talk to and no questions asked. It made him feel better. But he wished Noah would at least say something. Something that would make him feel much better than the silence.

"You know, a thought crossed my mind," Michael said. "If I were the one in Mark’s situation, would they care about me even a little bit?" He asked this, but he already knew the answer to the question. "What am I even saying? With one word from Mark, they would look at me like I deserved what happened to me." He bit his lip, fighting the urge to cry and the hatred that was wrapping his heart in red. "They will never be on my side, no matter what I do or say. I hate them so much."

Noah suddenly reached for Michael’s face and turned his head to face his, their lips meeting almost instantly as Noah stole a quick kiss and pulled away, stroking Michael’s cheek.

"Don’t worry, she won’t disturb you ever again," he said, but Michael was more stunned at that stolen kiss than the news.

His cheeks flushed lightly, and he asked,

"Is that so?"

He felt Noah was simply saying that to calm him and assure him, but Noah meant it. He had already taken action, after all. It would only be a matter of time before Michael hears the news.

"Would you cry if they suddenly got into an accident and died?" Noah asked, and Michael gasped, turning to him in shock.

"What do you...?" His words got cut off as he saw the deadly look in Noah’s eyes.

He didn’t know what it was, but something told him not to ask and simply speak honestly.

He gulped and bit his lip, looking away as he said,

"I already shed all the tears I could for them. I have no more tears to shed for them." He said. "If they died, it wouldn’t have anything to do with me because to me... They’re no longer my family."

Noah heard this and pulled Michael into his arms.

"Very well. If they’re already dead to you, then you shouldn’t think of them anymore." He said, his eyes holding a murderous gaze.

Michael decided to just let it all go. He didn’t care anymore. They could live their lives however they wanted.

"Now, don’t think about it anymore. We need to prepare breakfast," Noah said, brushing underneath his eyelids to get rid of the little bit of tear drop he had there.

"Alright," Michael said as he squinted his eyes. He held Noah’s hand and said, "But you’ll have to do something for me first."

"What is it?" Noah asked, and Michael’s lips curled up. He leaned closer and then kissed Noah on the lips.

It was a light and brief kiss, but that was all he wanted.

He pulled back and smiled.

"I feel much better." Noah looked at him. That smile on his lips looked way better than the sad frown he had a minute back. He smiled and gave Michael another kiss. "What... What was that one for?"

"Just a reassurance," Noah said and started getting up to his feet. "If a kiss makes you feel better, then two kisses will make you feel great."

Michael stared at him and then at the hand he stretched down to help him up.

"You know, there’s something that will make me feel even better than kisses." He said with a cunning look in his eyes, but Noah brushed it off immediately.

"Not a chance."

Michael expected that reaction, and each time he got it, it made him laugh with a light heart.

"If you’re done, come up," Noah said, and Michael took his hand. With a single tug, Noah was able to pull him up from the floor and into his arms.

"Show off," Michael said, sticking his tongue out.

No matter how much he worked out, he could never get the strength of a werewolf. So, he decided to stick with flexibility exercises.

At least, even if he was not able to get the strength of a werewolf, he would be able to achieve the stamina as well as take on that strength.

It was a plausible alternate method.