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Summer in Anteronia can be a generally miserable time. After all, the loss of the natural flora to provide shade and the paving of the roads makes for the perfect spot for the unrelenting sunlight to blast its wrath upon the heat-retaining walls of the buildings.

The tall edifices block much of the breeze from the sea, so the cold air that actually brushes its way through the structures brings well-deserved relief to the people who live well into the interior.

In the esteemed halls of Anteronia University, students who choose to remain in their dormitories find the exams and essays nothing compared to the sweltering nightmare of their cramped living quarters.

One such student is Melia, lying on her bed, her covers flung this way and that, her night dress clinging to her body, semi-transparent through all the sweat. She rubs her hands over her earthen-toned eyes and sits up, her hair stuck to her brow.

Across from her, Libi, her roommate, stands peering out the open window, her upper body pushed out. This momentarily leaves the girl in bed to appreciate her companion and friend's full, feminine curves, a burning rising in her cheeks before she clears her throat.

“Good morning.”

Libi pulls herself out of the window, fanning herself, and sits down. “Good morning to you, too,” Libi says, plopping herself on her bed. Don’t you have work today?”

Melia blinks and looks at the calendar, turning slightly pale. “Oh, bah! I didn’t realize! Shoot, thanks, Libi!”

She hops up and peels out of her gown, Libi averting her eyes from her roommate’s anatomy. She has a soft smile as she looks out toward the city, her city.

—

Work proves to be pretty much the same when it comes to beating the heat. The ovens that bake the delicious pastries at Baker’s only serve to further cling salty sweat upon the workers' brows, and Melia, dressed in the pink dress and apron that is the woman’s uniform, finds herself jostled and bothered as she stares at the racks of baked goods, melting in their spots.

“You look like shit.”

She blinks and whirls around. Standing before her is a black cat dressed just like her.

“Oh, Adrian, yah…” she says. “This isn’t any way to live, not especially for someone like me.”

Adrian shrugs. Despite the heat, he’s simply immaculate and nonplussed. “Ain’t you humans built for different environments?”

Melia grumbles, grabbing an extra-warmed croissant for a customer. “I don’t mean being human, she says.

“You’re hard to read, you know that?” the feminine cat responds, resting on the back of the counter.

“But tell me, what would you do if you weren’t here… if money were no object? Where would you go?”

She sighs, pushing her glasses up as they nearly fall off for the fifth time today.

“I’d rather be conducting my research,” she admits. I’d rather not need the funding or the degrees to justify it.”

“Carpe Diem, girl,” says the cat boy. “You don’t need someone’s permission to do what you want.”

She grips the counter top, her lip quivering. “Perhaps… perhaps I don’t, but… it could be dangerous.”

“Honey, what I do is dangerous,” Adrian chuckles. You’re just looking at flowers and talking to the trees.”

“Something like that,” she says, feeling a stirring in the pit of her tummy.

“Besides, your shift’s done. You can go chase your dreams right now. I bet your boss would be fine with you taking a vacation, too.”

“Maybe… maybe I should,” she says, pulling off her apron. “Thanks.”

“Us femmes have to stick together, don’t we?” the cat asks, purring.

Melia stops, closes her eyes, and lets her glasses slip momentarily. “Yeah, you’re right. We do.”