Pieces of heat

      Edgar's words sounded flatly direct: — No, we already have cakes at home. We will not buy them.       Ranpo rolled his eyes at his words, he already had a premonition that this phrase would pop up today. This trip to the big store has always been like this. He couldn't help but stare at the boxes of doughnuts covered in delicious powdered sugar. And how many donuts there are with a variety of fillings, it was just a paradise for a sweet tooth like him. And how many pastries... And although he understood that an open confrontation was unlikely to lead to anything now, he decided to take a chance. Besides, he wasn't going to buy up the entire sweets department — after all, he was saving money. He looked at him innocently and playfully asked: — Why not? Come on, just one box of brownies. I'll be so generous that I'll give you seventy percent.       The writer exhaled heavily and, taking his hand like a child, led him away from the sweets department. Although the detective was ready to persuade him to buy these delicious cakes later. But that's how he managed to get lost... he seemed to be thinking too much, and there were a lot of people, and he was carried somewhere to the side. There are enough people that the writer did not notice the loss at first.       Rampo stops when he realizes that this case is useless, he knew how his boyfriend knows how to find him under any circumstances. Mostly it was funny and touching. He looked thoughtfully after her in the direction where the writer should have been. In fact, he could try to run after him and find him. But he didn't see the point. In addition, he can just walk alone in the sweets department or wander somewhere else. This store is really very big. He chose a different direction. After all, it smelled great here.       Soon the detective frowned resentfully, he did not like being alone. Besides, he didn't like to get lost anywhere. And he knew how to get lost literally everywhere, even where it is impossible. And now he got lost in a big grocery store. No, well, that's not how he imagined a day off. Besides, he didn't want to upset his boyfriend. He would have moved on without those stupid cakes. And now he's all alone. He absentmindedly sat on the floor, not caring how he looked from the outside. Maybe his boyfriend will come back for him? He decided to wait.       He couldn't relax. The woman approached Rampo, who was just sitting on the floor with his head down. For a moment she shook her head reproachfully, muttering about the immaturity of today's teenagers. — Get up before someone sees you. It's rude to sit here.       Rampo gets up again, but he doesn't look happier. In fact, he is offended that he was scolded like that. When the woman turned away, he snorted contemptuously, sticking out his tongue.       He starts walking again. An hour passed, and he was still worried about where his writer was now, and hoped that he was safe. Although who would be able to harm him at all?       Rampo felt like a lonely and abandoned kitten, he didn't know what to do. He is used to being accompanied by someone. He had a poor memory on the ground. But there was no one around. And the people around him don't care about him. Maybe he'll find it if he searches more carefully. He was walking again, trembling slightly. How he didn't like being alone. And he also didn't like huge stores, even when they were filled with sweets. The noise always made him nervous.       ...and a feeling of loneliness.       He walked slowly, trying not to flatter himself with hopes for the return of the writer. In the end, he can find it himself. Although how if he lost himself? It was a paradox. Rampo got tired of searching and just sat down by the wall. With a lowered head, straight legs and arms on the sides. He looked defeated and depressed when he closed his eyes.       Too much noise.       He covered his ears with his palms, trying to muffle the sound of the store, where something is creaking, rustling, a lot of people, a lot of trampling. And there is no quiet rustle of the one he loves. At that moment, he felt like the lost boy who had a big suitcase and a sharp mind behind his soul. It wasn't something he wanted to remember. This feeling of nostalgia was clearly out of place.       A quiet squeaking slightly brought him out of his stupor. It didn't sound like part of the noise of this human anthill. When he felt the warm fur under his hand, his heart jumped with happiness. And when he felt the fluffy lump begin to lick his face thoroughly, he opened his eyes at all. Who would have thought that it was the raccoon that would find him. He hugged him to himself, hugging him joyfully. It's a special raccoon. Now he felt the strength to move on again — he knew that where a raccoon is, there is a writer.       Meanwhile, Karl was nuzzling his neck, licking him all the time. The detective smelled of sugar, and it tasted just as good. He was trying to support him, such an unlucky guy. And, besides, he himself was scared because of this store. That's why, despite the frightened exclamation of the owner, he himself went on the trail of Waii. However, now he is also lost with him.       People sometimes cast puzzled glances at them. It's a strange thing when someone is sitting on the floor hugging a raccoon. But he didn't want to pay attention to anyone. He was rather happy that he was no longer alone.       And he felt even more happiness when he felt such a reliable and warm embrace. Taking advantage of the privilege, he snuggled up to him, almost purring contentedly. Meanwhile, the raccoon was wheezing quite a lot, still being in the detective's arms — he was warm and comfortable there.