I love animals

I’m really at my wit’s end with this kitten!
I brought it home from a friend’s place last month. Their cat had given birth to four kittens, and when I went to visit, this little one was hiding in the back, staring at me with round, curious eyes. I knew right away it was the one.
Over the past month, it’s been incredibly sweet and clingy—following me everywhere, even waiting outside the bathroom door. But today, it suddenly decided to throw a tantrum, and nothing I do seems to work!
This morning, while I was making breakfast in the kitchen, I heard a crash in the living room. I rushed in to find the trash can knocked over, with the kitten crouched nearby, a scrap of paper in its mouth and shreds of trash scattered all over the floor. Half-amused, half-annoyed, I raised my voice and scolded it for making a mess.
Right away, it dropped the paper, flattened its ears, tucked its tail, and darted under the sofa. No matter how I called or tapped the floor, it refused to come out.
This is the same kitten that usually loves rubbing against my hand, curling up on my lap while I watch TV, purring like a little motor. Today, I even brought out its favorite mackerel cat food from the fridge. The moment I opened the can, the smell filled the room. I crouched by the sofa and offered it, but it only glanced through the crack, turned its head away, and swished its tail on the floor as if to say, “I’m still mad—leave me alone!”
I stayed there for a while, wondering: Can kittens really hold a grudge? Did I scare it by raising my voice?
My friend had warned me when giving me the kitten: “They’re like little kids—soft-hearted and easily hurt. You can’t be too harsh; you have to coax them gently.” So I went and got its favorite feather wand, swaying it under the sofa while softly saying, “Come on, sweetie, look what I have for you!” But it just lifted an eyelid lazily, gave a dismissive look, and retreated further into the shadows, not even bothering to twitch its tail.
Now I’m sitting on the sofa, staring at that little shadow underneath, feeling both frustrated and guilty. This kitten has been by my side through so many lonely moments—waiting for me at the door when I come home, comforting me when I’m down. And now, just because I scolded it, it’s giving me the silent treatment…
Has anyone else dealt with a sulky kitten like this? How do I win back its trust and get my clingy furball back? Right now, all I can do is wait and hope it comes out on its own when it’s ready to forgive me.

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