Feline Foolery

15.

After the whole ordeal got sorted out, Tate helped with the laundry. He was bored with nothing to do.

In all honesty, he felt a little left out. His other 'siblings' kept getting tons of affection from (Y/n). He knew why. They purposely sought it out. But he was too shy to be that brave.

He sighs softly, holding the last shirt. There were no more chores to do and now he was bored.

Wesley, Fox, and Sami were in the living room and he didn't particularly want to sit with them. He kind of just wanted to be alone.

Tate scrolls through some songs and randomly selects a playlist, his feet making their own way to your bedroom.

He makes sure there no one in there before shutting the door and crawling into the bed. He gives up on the music, yanking his headphones off and tossing his phone onto the bed. His tail twitches as his nose picks up on her scent.

A little noise escapes him as he yawns, his hands reaching up and curling around her pillow. He pulls it down and presses it against his stomach, wrapping his arms and legs around it and burying his nose into it. He exhales, his face relaxing as his tail even curls around the soft pillow.

Before he knew it, he was asleep.

>~•~<

Spencer was asleep in his futon, huddled under numerous blankets. Fox was tired but it was his turn to sleep in (Y/n)'s room and he wasn't giving that up. He was sitting on the couch with his head in Sami's lap, watching a movie that Wesley had put on.

Max was in the laundry room, previously helping Tate but now he was sitting in the floor, leaning against the dryer and staring up at the ceiling in thought.

His cheeks turn pink as he remembered how he had slipped up, almost revealing his budding feelings for her.

The words he said weren't lies. He needed her... but for selfish reasons. He wanted her to himself.

He exhales softly, leaning his head back until it connected with the dryer. "Stupid..," he mumbles, smiling wryly.

(Y/n) was in the shower, watching water tinged brown by the mud go down the drain. She frowned to herself, remembering how many scars Spencer had.

She new the basics of what had happened to the boys, but seeing proof of it shook her up.

Earlier, Spencer refused to let Sami help him wash off the mud, so (Y/n) did it. The woman felt slightly embarrassed, considering he was 18 even though he acted like a child.

She understood, though. Sometimes, people get stuck in that childlike state of mind due to trauma. And she loved Spencer anyway.

Spencer didn't seem embarrassed by it. She didn't know whether he didn't understand the concept or if he was just too desensitized to situations like that.

As she washed the mud off of him, her fingers stumbled across many scars. Burn marks, lots of different kinds. Some of them were obviously caused by cigarettes, one by a brand, and some of them in straight, thin lines as if someone took a fire poker and laid it across your skin. He also had long, crisscrossing scars on his back that looked to be the result of whips. Scars from god knows what. A knife or sharp object of some sort. And ligature marks around his ankles and wrists that never seemed to go away.

She tried to count them but it didn't take long for her to lose count. She takes a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. That part of their lives were over. They were safe now.

It still didn't change the fact that her own father did that to them... she hadn't gotten over it. It haunted her. Gave her nightmares. It pained her but she buried it for the sake of the others.

"It's over now," she says to herself, turning the water off. She steps out of the shower and wraps a fluffy towel around her, drying her body off.

The girl uses her arm to wipe off the steamy mirror, staring at her reflection. It stared back at her, mirroring everything she did.

"You can finally forget about it."

She turns away from the mirror and steps out of the bathroom, shivering at the temperature difference from the warm bathroom. She pads quickly to her room before she ran into anybody with nothing but her towel.

Once she shuts the door, she turns around and goes to her dresser, quickly getting dressed.

Just as she pulls her shirt over her stomach, Tate stirs from her bed, finally capturing her attention.

He sits up, rubbing his eye with one hand while holding the pillow to his chest with the other.

"(Y/n)," he asks quietly, opening his sleepy eyes and staring at her.

"Oh, hey Tate," she says just as softly, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Whatcha doing in here?"

Tate looks down at his hands, too shy to say that he missed her affection.

The girl patiently waits for his reply, reaching out and patting the top of his head.

His eyes widen a little and he dives forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his face against her stomach. Once he got that first taste of affection, he realized just how much he wanted it.

The human smiles and places her hands on his back, rubbing them in soothing circles.

Tate smiles and snuggles into her, his tail flicking back and forth happily.

"I'm sorry," she says, running a hand through his hair and scratching behind his ear. He smiles more and starts purring, feeling very soft and warm. "I haven't been paying attention to you much, have I?"

He shakes his head, pulling away but not too far. He rests his chin on her knee, looking up at her.

She smiles down at Tate and boops his nose. "Will you forgive me?"

He tilts his head in thought, faking it just to mess with her. "Hmm... I don't really know."

The human pinches his cheek, making him laugh. This was probably the most vocal he'd ever been and she enjoyed being able to make him laugh.

Eventually, after pampering him with affection, they both get tired and accidentally fall asleep, with Tate curled up against your side.

Meanwhile, Sami gently pushes Fox out of his lap, heading to bed. The orange haired neko frowned, getting up and searching for his- I mean the human.

He quietly opens her door and frowns, a pout settling itself on his face. He shuts the door behind him and jumps onto the bed, grabbing your arm and wrapping it around himself before cuddling into your side, his face pressed into your shoulder.

His tail possessively curls around your leg, him falling asleep still wearing a pout. Tonight was supposed to be his night, not Tate's.