Acai's Space

Calibur was sixteen when he was taken. Dragged out of his home by the tail. A metal object wizzed by, then cut into his bottom fin.

Joshua was eighteen when he found a miracle of nature. He always knew he was going to have something happen to him, something out of the ordinary, something to make him special.

Joshua went to a new fishing spot, a small lake that jutted out from the forest. He parked his pick-up truck next to the trail. It had been over a year since he last got to use his fishing lines. He pulled a large cooler out of the back, this lake wasn’t protected so he could bring any catch home. The faint aroma of rain still weighed in the air, mud collected under his shoes. It wasn’t just the act of fishing he enjoyed so much, but the connection to nature. A precious hobby he never grew out of.

He collected some worms off the side of the road, saving money on bait. Most of them were dead by now, yet the first one he used was still alive and squrming. It didn’t take long for him to feel a tug on the line, he started reeling it in. Somehow the fish gets free just as the hook passes by some weeds in the water. Live bait turned out to be a waste, he reels it in again when there’s another tug on the line. Something smaller, likely the size of a sardine. It was a fighter for sure, thrashing around, splashing water all over his cooler.

The hook just rises out of the water, revealing a palm sized merman. The metal is pierced through their fin, dripping small amounts of blood. Small screams and sounds come from the creature. Joshua pulls them off the hook, only making the damage and blood loss worse. The creature shrieks. He sets them on his truck bed for a moment. The merman tries to drag himself off the warm surface, only serving to dry him off faster. His now fully dry tail morphs into two legs. His right ankle has a large hole through it, bleeding profusely.

With more nerve endings in his foot, the pain skyrocketed. His screams are no longer filled with shock, there’s no room for that when the pain is so severe. Both creatures are in panic now. Joshua scoops up the being and places him into his cooler. The tail reapears, and the merman gasps.

Calibur had never been in such severe pain or rage before. He already hated the pollution humans caused, and now one was personally torturing him for what? Fun? The lid on his cold prison slams shut, giving him privacy in his suffering. The box moves around, smacking the water and him against the walls. The splashing calms down eventually, reduced to waves as the container moves forwards with the vehicle. After so long in the darkness and mild waves, the box is retrieved and moved around vigorusly again. Up several flights of stairs, too fast to keep the waters stable.

Light floods his cold prison, his abductor lifts him out and into a large tub. The human procures a small container, pouring out a burning liquid onto Calibur’s wounds.

“AH MOTHERFUCK?! What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you trying to kill me?!” The human turns his head in response to Calibur’s words.

The human dries off Calibur’s tail, failing to clean the wound or relieve any pain. Another sharp zap spreads through his body during the transformation. The dull pain from his tail is yet again replaced by a vibrating sting from the hole. The human tries to move Calibur’s ankle around, but the extremity doesn’t react.

“Poor thing probably won’t be able to use this anymore. Amputating it would spare him the recovery and some pain.” Joshua left and returned with a paring knife, not even sanitized.

He swifty removes the bloody foot, discarding it down the toilet. He retrieves some gauze and wraps it around the stub.

Shock and pain seemed to be the only words Calibur could remember. He was apalled, the human just cut off his ankle like it was nothing. How would he be able to swim again? He wouldn’t be able to walk. What the fuck was wrong with this human?

Why? - Part One

-Violet-

Morning pulled open my eyes open, bundled in a soft shirt. I almost forgot my circumstances until I felt a jolt of pain from my legs. The sting is soon gone, replaced by worry. I slowly stand, my legs no longer collasping from beneath me.

The drawer is shut, softening Asor's voice from my upper right.

"I'm sorry about that ma'am, if you check the box at the bottom next time that should solve the issue."

I placed my hands above me, on the bottom of the desk pressing away from me while planting my legs firm against the wood of the bottom; opening the drawer about an inch.

"Hm...? ah." He opens the drawer, smiling at me before returning to the call. "Oh nothing ma'am, sorry about that."

The call ended shortly thereafter, the phone clicking against the reciever. He presses a button that turns a red light on.

"Any pain this morning?"

"No soreness, though there was a sharp sting when I moved them at first."

"Climb up onto the desk if you can."

I have to jump to get my arms over the edge, barely able to pull my upper half over the ledge. I get one leg over the surface before he lifts me up.

"I had it just fine."

He doesn't respond, I can only assume he didn't hear me. I lurch away once he's done.

His smile falters for just a moment, something so unoticable; yet find him doing so whenever I pull away.

His reactions to me are always strange. Though one has constantly persisted in my mind. He wasn't shocked to see me. He wasn't surprised to see a girl eight centimeters tall. He wasn't confused by a rodent girl. Why?

"Why weren't you surprised when you first saw me?"

"I... I was still drowsy."

"Then why not when you woke up fully?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Why wouldn't it?! You weren't fazed at all! It- It was like you knew about our existence!"

He didn't even blink. He turned the phone line back on, like I didn't even say anything.

"Don't just ignore me! I'm serious! Why are you like this?! You're so stubborn. You refuse to tell me anything about you. People don't act like this."

"I like yellow."

"That's nothing. Why are you so secluded? Do you have family? What do you do for fun? Why don't you invite people over? Why do you wear suits and tuck your shirt in while alone?"

"I have to attend video calls". I want to be professional so I wear the suit. And.. I don't mind being so antisocial. Besides, my literal job is to talk to people!"

"Why weren't you surprised when you found me?"

Nothing.

"Talk to me damnit!"

He closes his eyes, breathing deeply.

"Why do you insist on being so fucking miserable?!"

"I'M TRYING OKAY?!"

He yells. I haven't seen him this mad before, not even while in the walls. I skitter back away from him.

Not that any of that matters.

Good Soup

-Asor-

I start down the stairs, hoping she’ll rest. She needs it after the morning she’s had.

I never thought I would find one of her kind in my house. The idea of borrowers has only laid in my mind, it was hard for me to even believe it when my Dad discussed it with me. I would have laughed at him, had everything else not happened. Still, doubt lingered in my mind. I almost forgot about every part of my life before Dad, until today. She is quite the handful, literally and figuratively. I understand why she kept trying to escape, but it had to be exhausting for her as well.

My food has cooled down by now, I should eat. I’ve been so used to an almost empty stomach. I don’t want to stop eating, yet I can’t find the want or drive to do so. It always feels so draining to get up from my desk. It feels out of reach, so close to impossible. Getting out of bed is nearly undo able at this point....

I should reach out to Diana, after work. I have six more hours on the call line, then some logging and emails to draft. It’s just so much to do. Giving into it feels so alluring.

I can‘t do that. Especially not with the little one upstairs. Speaking of that, I should figure out dinner for us. She still needs some greens, and something easy to size down. I have some chicken stock in the pantry, maybe I could put it in the kettle? Having an electric kettle has really saved me, along with Dad’s crockpot. I still need to get the stove and oven installed. I haven’t had either for over a month. I just need to call someone to come in and install one. I already have the kitchen hood, so it would only take a day or so. I keep putting it off, it’s so easy. I just can’t get myself to do it.

I could probably heat up the stock in the crockpot and get other ingredients delivered. I don’t want to leave Vi alone.

My fork thuds against the bottom of the microwave tray, ceasing my thoughts. I had been eating on autopilot, I didn’t even realize I was almost done. I step over to the sink, rinsing out the tray and letting the fork clatter to the bottom. I throw it out and head up to my room. The second floor is small, it opens right into my room. It’s practically an attic. While the house is small, there are bathrooms on both floors. In theory if I ever had guests over it would be nice to have my own.

When I reach the top of the stairs I’m greeted by Vi asleep in the drawer. I settle into my chair and start up my computer. I turn on the phone line without much thought. It was almost second nature by now, though that wasn’t the issue. The phone rings and Vi rolls over.

”Shit”

I gently close the drawer with one hand, and grab the phone with my other. Hopefully it will soften the noise, and as an extra precaution I hush my voice. It isn’t noticeable to the person on the other end, at least not that they comment on.

Four hours have passed by when I notice the drawer move slightly. I can’t explain much, since I’m on another call. I open the drawer, holding the phone away from my mouth so I can apologize.

-Violet-

I wake up, still curled around a soft shirt. Instead of seeing the ceiling; like before I closed my eyes, I see the bottom of his desk. I can only assume it is the bottom of his desk, since I’m blanketed in the dark. My heart begins to race, I can barely stand with my injured legs. I trip over myself trying to push against the bottom of the desk. I need to get out of here. The sides of my prison start to close in, my breathing is shallow and quick.

Light floods the cell, his voice fills my ears.

“So sorry for shutting you in.”

My face warms, my hands unclench. Fingernail indents are visible now in the light. My heart finally calms down by the time the phone clicks against the receiver. He starts to speak before he even looks at me.

“I was trying to stay quiet for you. I wanted to let you get some rest.-”

He finally sees me.

“Oh god are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Am I? I don’t know.

“I... I’m fine.”

My heart beats, breaths, and thoughts are all back to normal pace. I feel safer now that I’m not trapped

“Just a little uncomfortable in small spaces.”

“’A little’? What about earlier in my pocket? And don’t you live in the walls?”

“I kind of knew you were gonna put me in your pocket. That helped. And I go into the walls on my own. I don’t wake up somewhere enclosed, where I can’t get free.”

“That makes more sense. Still I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have done so if I knew.”

“It’s not really your fault. Don’t- just don’t dwell on it too much okay?”

His hand appears next to me

“Will getting out of there help?”

“Ah, no I’m fine for now. It’s comfortable again. Can I get something to do? Not a book please.”

“Alright then. Let me know if you change your mind. For something to do? I’ll look around real quick for ya.”

His chair rolls to the opposite side of the desk, and he riffles through some other drawers.

“Here, how about these?”

I have no clue what any of these items are called, but I’ve seen them before. A square of papers that are stuck together at the top by some sort of glue. It’s slightly shorter than me, a light yellow. The other one is a clip type item. I have them in my home, I use them for keeping fabric scraps together. The third is a stretchy silicone band. I like collecting these for various reasons. I have some set up with my hammock so it stretches around me. I don’t know how he think’s I’ll be entertained by these things. I could try to make some tools, yet I doubt I can make anything with just this stuff.

For now I decide to wrap two of the stretchy bands around my waist underneath my sweater while he isn’t looking. I can’t take any clips with me discreetly. I have been able to grab a sticky paper and rip it up without making much noise. I stick the biggest pieces into my pockets, the smaller pieces I tuck under his shirt. Hopefully I can take them with me when I leave. I can’t think of anything to use them for now, however it’s nice to get some stuff without sneaking around for it.

After some time, he turns off the phone line. Glancing at me for only a moment before leaving. While he’s gone I climb out of the desk. He has some paper clips laying around, which I only know the name of because he talks to himself about losing them so often. I wonder who did that?

I grab some other items from around his desk, and bring them back to my temporary space. I hide them with the paper pieces for later. By the time everything is hidden well his footsteps resound up the stairs. He’s holding a bowl of what smells like soup.

‘please have some for me. please have some for me’

Along with a small teacup, he sets my bag on the desk. I thought I’d have to go find it!

“Thanks for my bag! I appreciate you bringing it to me.”

“Of course, I don’t want you to worry about finding it once you’re all healed. As for this-”

He pushes the teacup towards me

“-Here’s dinner, chicken noodle soup with some vegetables I ordered earlier.”

I don’t think I’ve ever had hot soup, or soup for that matter. It smells so good. The cup is only half my height so I can tip it towards me to drink it. The food pieces are chopped finely enough for me to fit in my mouth. How did he manage to make them that small? I have no idea. We don’t talk much while we eat. After he drinks the last bit from his bowl he asks if I’m done.

“Are you full? If not I can bring our stuff down later.”

“I’d like to eat some more, thanks.”

I already feel full, yet it tastes so good I can’t stop. It’s the best food I’ve ever had. How will I go back to cracker crumbs and dried meat after this? I’m finally forced to stop when I feel pain emanating from my stomach.

“I’m done now, this was really good. Thank you.”

He just nods and grabs the dishes. Heading downstairs once again. I snatched my bag from the surface of the desk, and funneled in as much of the supplies as it could fit. I must have organized it quite well, more is able to fit than usual.

He comes back quicker than before, this time turning his computer back on.

“I just need to finish a few more things, then we can get you to bed. Is that alright? You’ve got to still have some energy after your nap.”

“Yeah, take your time.”

I lay back into the shirt, getting comfortable while I hear him typing away. He sighs repeatedly, whispering about ‘spelling issues’ and ‘horrific organization’.

“Jesus that took longer than expected.”

The clock hasn’t moved much, it’s been less than an hour. His computer screen returns to black, and the lights from his keyboard fade as well. Without a word he exits the room through a back door. I hear drawers opening and closing, the water turning on and off. When he returns I watch him dig through his closet, coming over to me with a thick hoodie. He lifts me and the shirt up, placing the hoodie underneath. He maneuvers it all into the shape of a nest again. His hands almost coming into contact with me several times. It doesn’t fill me with as much dread this time. It isn’t gone completely, nowhere near that. It’s progress, in a direction I’m not sure I want to go.

His hands pull away, and he grabs another stack of clothes and heads to the other room again. While he’s gone I fix the hoodie and shirt to be more comfortable, it doesn’t take much work. He emerges from the back room, this time wearing a short sleeved shirt, and long sweatpants. It’s almost funny seeing the guy who is always dressed up in something so comfortable.

“I’m headed to bed, goodnight Vi.”

“Goodnight.”

The light flickers off, the light switch next to his bed.

Today was too fucking much. My legs aren’t aching as much. My mind is more where I’m concerned. Asor is just so... odd. He acts unlike any human I’ve come across before. He was kind, understanding, yet still firm. He made me food, he gave me a bed, he gave me my bag. He helped my legs. How did he put up with everything I did? I just don’t get it.

It’s just been such a long day. I can’t even get to sleep. It doesn’t help that my mind keeps flashing back to my bag. How did I fit everything so well? I keep half my bag full of tools. Might as well get rid of that lingering thought. Asor is silent and dead asleep, so he won’t notice my moving around.

I crawl across the jacket, my legs feeling stronger. I dump my bag out, and look through the two pockets.

‘No.’

‘No no no no!’

All my tools are gone. They were there this morning. I always double check. Fuck. He had to have taken them. Shit. I... I can’t worry about this right now. I can’t do anything about it anyways. It would just cause more stress. All of this would be easier to sort out in the morning. I need rest. That’s all.

I began to untense the muscles in my body, trying to relax everything. Eventually the ceiling fades out of view again.

-Asor-

I’ve been watching her for two hours now. Her breathing finally turns to a calm pace. She got up several times, I almost thought she was going to try and leave without tools. Now that she’s sleeping, I can rest without worry.

Rest

-Violet-

He only sighs in response. I should be grateful he has nothing in response after everything. That he doesn’t feel it necessary to speak more, that he doesn’t want to hurt me. Despite how I long to revel in this, how I wish I could be happy about this situation, I cannot.

I have been proven wrong about him being normal countless times, yet this is the one time I don’t believe it. I’ve seen countless other humans get riled up and violent from comments much less hurtful than that. Humans are creatures built on lies. There’s no need for that in my life, and in most borrowers’. Not when your main worry every day is survival. There is no need for falsehoods. The only time you would lie is to a human. Even that is too rare to dwell upon. Regardless of my needless rambling, he is lying. That is the only reason he would say he isn’t mad. To gain my trust.

Then again it seems pointless to go through all of this with malicious intent towards me. Why would he try and help me with my injury just to hurt me in the end. I don’t understand him. He goes against everything I know about humans.

I continue eating the rest of my salami while suppressing the worry in my mind. As I eat he moves away from the counter to the shelves with glasses. He grabs some ice and settles it inside. He returns to the sink and fills the glass with water.

“I got all the food I need, thank you.”

His arm moves towards me, and I flinch away just after he hesitates. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with him grabbing me whenever the chance presents itself. I don’t get another chance to bring it up as he nods to the cup.

“Your legs need some more cold to ease the soreness. You also need to put a little pressure on it, so would you prefer to climb in? If not I can put you in myself.”

I’m able to wrap my arms around the top rim of the glass, it’s just barely shorter than me so it’s difficult to bring my weight over the edge. His hand rests underneath me once I get my legs off the counter, in case I fall. Even if I did it wouldn’t cause as much damage as the trap. It’s less than an inch drop.

After about a minute of his eyes burning through my back I’m able to swing my injured leg over the edge and slide into the glass. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, going into a glass as tall as me, something I wouldn’t be able to climb out of easily. I hate feeling so trapped, even though I climbed in myself. I feel like an animal in a zoo, trapped and constantly watched. I barely catch the corners of his mouth rising into a smile as he turns away to grab a soft rag for after.

His demeanor was so firm with me, yet he treats me with such kindness all the same. How can two polar opposite things about him coexist?

“I’ll clean up our lunch while you rest.”

“Was that your lunch? I thought humans needed more than that.”

“I... was planning on getting some more food later. I’m more focused on you eating and healing right now.” He hesitates before speaking, I’m not sure why.

“Why not now while you’re on your break?”

“Since you’re so insistent, I suppose I can in the meantime.”

-Asor-

She was so scared of me less then ten minutes ago, and somehow she’s already back to lecturing me. However she is right. I need to eat more, my stomach only reminds me after she does. I don’t know how I keep forgetting my basic needs. Despite how annoyed I am with her lecturing, I still appreciate it. Constructive criticism perhaps.

I head from her cold body to the cold freezer, retrieving a microwave TV meal. I bought them specifically for times like this. Not for when I have an injured borrower in my kitchen, I would have never thought of that. For when I forget to eat, and need something quick. It’s basic and somewhat bland, but it’s food.

Icing works best for twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off, and repeat. While this cools I can dry her legs off. Then let her rest in my desk while I eat.

I slid the small plastic tray onto the glass tray in the microwave, and set it for ten minutes on low. My eyes drift back to the small girl, silent as she watches me walk around. I can only hope she recovers well and fast. Like she said, it’s easier for us both if she returns to her abode.

This is the most eventful, and likely best day I’ve had in years. I don’t do anything, the days just fly by and blend together. I don’t remember the last time I celebrated my birthday. I just take the day off, after persuasion from my boss. It does give me more time to work on my veterinary degree. I always take the holiday shifts, except for when the office is closed. I have to hold back the pressure in my eyes, I shouldn’t cry right now. Taking care of someone shouldn’t be the most exciting day of my year.

She helps me reflect, and take care of myself. She sees me as someone who deserves to feel well, to be more than what I am. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so horrible if she had to stay with me longer.

No.

No.

She wants to leave. I have to let her get back to her normal. And myself to mine.

“Uh, are you okay?”

Ah shit.

I can feel my face getting warm.

“I’m... alright, sorry about that. I was just thinking. I didn’t mean to stare.”

She turns away from me, and the microwave beeps. It’s been ten minutes already? God I didn’t even notice the clock changing.

I grab the tray with a hot pad and place it on the stove. The airflow from under the burners should help it cool quicker. I glance over to Vi again. Might as well get her out of the glass.

“Want to climb out on your own or do you want me to lift you?”

Her legs move as soon as my sentence is over, but she slips in the water.

I grab the rag and reach for her with my other hand. Her legs slip again as she backs away.

“You’re going to slip if you try to climb out again, come here.”

-Violet-

His hand closes in on my vision, I can’t overpower him normally, let alone when I keep slipping on the glass. My small punches and kicks do nothing.

“What’s going on? I’m just trying to dry you off. Please stop fighting me. I just want to help you.”

The warm skin beneath me changes to cold counter. A towel appears in his hands. He gently moves the rag around my bottom half, drying my legs and the cuffs on my pants. After he seems satisfied with how dry my legs are, he cups my back in his palm. What is he grabbing me for now?! I feel so trapped around him, regardless of how gentle he handles me.

“I’m gonna bring you to my desk, if that’s alright. You can rest in one of the drawers while I eat. You’ve got to be tired after all that’s happened today. I can imagine it’s been a lot for you.”

Oh. He’s... giving me space. It’s like he could read my mind.

I nod slowly and he brings me towards the stairs, stabilizing me as he heads up to the second floor. I’m placed upon his desk while he grabs a shirt from the back of his closet. He stuffs the left drawer with the shirt, making a small nest. It looks much more comforting than his coat pocket or my hammock.

He shifts me into the drawer, yet he doesn’t close it.

“I’ll be back soon, please rest for now. You surely need it.”

“I will.”

Bland

-Asor-

I haven’t gotten that many calls this morning however, whenever one does inevitably come in Vi tries to crawl off of my desk. My patience has run out by her fifth try.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Her eyes fill with fear, yet I don’t feel very guilty. She should have known I would have tired of her actions. Instead of bringing her back to the center of my desk, I nudge her gently into my palm and deposit her in my coat pocket. I button the pocket, which should be near impossible for her to open; especially with how high up the opening is.

The phone rings, taking my focus away from my injured ‘prisoner’

-Violet-

I have a few things going for me in his pocket. First is that I usually sleep in a hammock, so I’m typically comfortable suspended in fabric. It would be much better if the interior fabric wasn’t so scratchy. Second is that I don’t get bored as easily as the humans I’ve been cursed to deal with. Unfortunately, neither of these parts cease my desire for freedom. I can just barely sink my claws into the fabric, climbing up to the button clasp. The phone clicks against the receiver. He seems to sense my weight moving, undoing the button and gently pressing me back down. A singular finger pressed against the top of my head, barely touching my ears. I immediately fall back to the bottom of the fabric cage.

“You shouldn’t even be using your legs to walk right now, let alone climb. You know better little mouse.”

“You know my name. Don’t call me that.”

“Right, sorry. You know better Vi.”

It will probably take a while for me to get used to being near someone with so much power over my life. It feels so uncanny to be held by something so big. I can’t shake away the image of him finding me under the ‘pantry’. His hands, face, everything about him can cover my vision so easily. It’s impossible to see all of him with one glance, having to look up and down him feels so demeaning. I don’t know if I’m scared of him anymore, or just unnerved by his presence.

I haven’t talked to other humans before, let alone been so close to one. Do all of them act this way? Am I lucky that he doesn’t want to hurt me? Am I unlucky that he’s so damn stubborn? Maybe it’s both. With how nice he’s been to me despite everything, it also makes me wonder how I was so terrified of him.

I’m brought out of my thoughts when the phone rings again. Right. That’s why I was so scared. How could I think for a second that this wasn’t absolutely petrifying? Everything around me is so loud. His voice, the ringing, even the typing from his computer. And yet, it’s almost nice being sheltered from it all. Being held so far from everything. Somehow being close to him in this way makes me feel safe from him.

Despite all of the conflicting thoughts in my mind, one rings out the loudest. ‘It’s not as bad as it could be’. I’ve been through a lot, worse and better in their own ways. It’s not like dwelling on it all will get me out of this either. Time passes quickly when you’re questioning the decisions that got you where you are. I can only guess it’s been several hours by now.

This is only based on him forgetting that I’m here. He reached his hands into his pockets. He let out a soft gasp as one brushed against my tangled hair. His hand pulled away as quickly as it arrived.

“Sorry. You’re so quiet that I forgot you were there. Aren’t you bored?”

“I guess I could use something to do. It’s not exceedingly interesting to be stuck in the dark for hours.”

“Let me get you a book, that should help you pass the time.”

He pulls out a large book, several inches thick. Stretching upwards untucks his dress shirt, he tucks it back in with an unnecessary sense of urgency. Why would it be such a big deal, warranting that reaction? Having a shirt tucked in is so uncomfortable as well. He doesn’t bring anyone over or do any video calls, so the point escapes me.

His phone rings, and I don’t get enough time to tell him I can’t read. Although, maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t need him to think any less of me. He also doesn’t have much entertainment in here, so it’s better than nothing. I don’t have the strength to open the cover. Never mind. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked for anything, this is more of a hassle than I wanted. He takes notice of my struggles, and opens the cover. He scoops me up without much thought as he sets me on the first page.

I do appreciate the delicacy with which he treats me, however this is offset by how often he grabs me. He never asks if he can despite how much he seems to care.

Thankfully there are some diagrams in the book. This is much better than expected. The top right of the page has five rodent tails, only one of them is similar to mine. None of them are as small as mine either. This isn’t very intriguing, although he doesn’t have much to do around here. Perhaps this is the best he can do.

On the counter he has a small television. He watches something called ‘News” on it. Nothing good ever happens there. Is he determined to be bored and sad? I find myself more enthralled by my own thoughts than I do the diagrams in his book.

“Vi? I’m on my lunch break, so we can get some more food in you.”

“I want to leave after.”

“If you can walk I’ll let you.”

“I’ll crawl if I have to.”

“You won’t make it far.”

“That’s only if you find me.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re one to talk! If you would just let me leave, you could go back to your empty life!”

“Empty?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! Don’t act like you ever do anything! All you do is sit at your desk and talk to people who yell at you and couldn’t care less about you having feelings! It’s helpful as hell that you stay cooped up all the time, but you have to be miserable! I’ve never seen you talk face to face with another goddamned human! The only interesting thing you do is leave the house once a month for food! And even then you only started that this year!

He doesn’t move or talk for almost a minute. I fucked up. He’s definitely going to kill me now. I don’t even think when my hand slaps against my mouth and my tail creeps between my legs.

“I... I didn’t mean that... I’m sorry.... I...”

I begin to slowly back away, my hands returning to the front of me. As if I could block what was sure to happen.

-Asor-

I’m unsure how to feel. She’s right I’ll give her that. I can’t fault her for getting fed up with me. She just wants to go home. Now she’s terrified, and her only focus is on apologizing. She’s shaking. Her eyes are watery. I slowly bring my hand to her side. Her pace quickened. She doesn’t get far on her still healing limbs. My hands circle in front of her, and she falls into them. I gather her close to my chest. One hand still held her tight, while my other rubbed her side with the back of a finger. Her eyes were still wide with fear. They stared straight ahead, through my hand. Her breathing heavy, filled with almost sobs.

“Shh, it’s alright Mousey. Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”

I headed out of my room and towards the kitchen. Her eyes flitted up to me, a tear slowly running down and landing on my hand.

She blinked, as if she couldn’t understand what I said. This only brought more tears rolling down her face. I let her continue to try and understand that I don’t want to hurt her, and that she’s safe with me.

I arrived at the kitchen, and settled her atop the counter. She watched me turn away to the pantry. I grabbed some more of the crackers from earlier. I have way too many of them, and I practically live off of them right now. I get salami from the fridge, only stopping for a moment to consider bringing out cheese. I got some expensive stuff from the store several days ago and I don’t wanted her getting hooked on it. For now she just needs some protein and carbs. I can get her some greens with dinner. I made some small ‘cracker sandwiches’ and gave her the smallest one. She wouldn’t be able to eat an entire one anyways.

She doesn’t even move towards the food.

“Please eat. It’s lunch time for both of us. You must be hungry by now.”

“Why aren’t you mad...?”

“You can think what you want about me. I can’t blame you for how you perceive my life. It may seem boring to you, but I... am fine with it.”

I can’t help but hesitate. I hate lying.

“No. You should be mad at me. That’s how this works. You’re a human!”

-Violet-

Just Vi

-Asor-

It's been so long since I've seen a borrower. The thoughts of that past cloud my mind. I can't afford to focus on that right now when the little thing in front of me is probably terrified. My curiosity about the scraping sound is quelled when I see them trying to pull the trap that is far bigger than their body across the brick floor. I carefully reach out as not to spook them while I grasp the wooden trap. I quickly release the bar, which is evidently not as humane as the listing said. The upper area of their legs where the bar was clamped is tinted red, and the lower area is slowly returning to it's normal color. Although I do not know much about human anatomy when it comes to injuries, I can infer quite a lot of what I know from rodents onto a more humanoid figure. The swelling has begun to tone down slightly. Hopefully their legs stay functional, even though I would love to take care of the poor thing; I need to catch up on some chores, sleep, and bills.

I get them over to the sink, apologizing as I lower them to the bottom. It would be practically impossible for them to escape with how slick and steep it is, even if their legs were fine. They immediately try to stand up and their legs collapse beneath them, still numb from the lack of blood flow in the lower legs; even with the bar gone. I turn back to a shelf of glasses, pulling one out and filling it with cold water and a single ice cube. That way it won't be an extreme temperature that could increase the fluid buildup, and still promote circulation. I pick up their small body and settle it into the shallow water. Apparently an infant can drown in an inch, so I'm not taking any risks.

Their body is a warm cinnamon color, with small patches of white across her body. A small light brown tail is tucked between their legs, it's probably longer than the length of their body due to how it comes up and then wraps around their waist. It doesn't have much hair, if any at all. Their rat like ears are about half of the size of their head each. I know that interspecies breeding is possible, especially in my own case. Yet, rats and borrowers don't have any way to mate. My parent's at least had similar biology. How could this type of hybrid be possible? Let alone live this long. They look like an adult too, and since they're here it had to have worked somehow. Granted I can't question the logistics of it too much, borrowers existing is quite a feat in it of itself.

I'll have to be more careful with the little stowaway especially because of these odd features. I can only guess that they know what's going on because of their constant attempts to climb out of the glass, or the squeak they let out when I lowered them into the sink. For now all I can do is try to ease the pain in their legs, which for now means trying to get circulation back at a faster rate; entailing massaging the swelled area. Even though it will hurt more now, it will help in the long run.

"Sorry about this, but I promise it will help you."

My fingers sink into the water and I start to slowly rub circles into their lower legs and knees. They gasp when my fingers touch them and try to pull away. My grip tightens to hold them still, but not enough to hurt them. Just a gentle warning, which I can only hope comes across as a reminder that I want to help them.

-Violet-

I don't know how I've stayed conscious this long. My breathes are still sharp and shallow, and my brain is going a mile a minute. He just grabbed me and started tending to me like he wants to help me. I can't believe him. I don't want to believe him.

"I know you don't think this will help, but please have some faith in me for now."

Have some faith? Have some faith in the guy who hasn't talked face to face with another human in months?! Some faith in a person who I've spent over a year hiding from? He wants me, someone he doesn't know, someone who has no reason to trust him, someone who's probably a sixteenth of his height, to just trust him because he says so?!

I pull my legs back again and his eyes snap back to me. For a moment there is anger, which is immediately shifted to annoyance, and then concern. Just before his fingers reach higher up on my legs, he looks away. Notably he only pinches just above the area that's injured, and only enough to keep me still. He doesn't want to hurt me for now. Maybe just wants to send the message that he can. Although he can hurt me, I don't believe he has the heart to. He looks away every time he begins to hold me still. Every time he has to put pressure on my aching limbs. When he lowered me into the sink. As he put me in the glass, only my legs were covered by the water. He has guilt, and a hint of care.

The red tint of my legs seems to have faded slightly. I can feel my ankles better now, I don't need to get a chance to try them. I collapse under the weight of my own body as soon as I test it. He uses his hand to block my head from hitting the side of the glass when I slip. His gaze traces the light patches of skin across my legs and shoulders. He hovers his eyes on the patch of fur on my lower neck. As he begins to look back to my tail, it moves out of sight; as if trying to get away from him as much as it can.

-Asor-

They're still shaking, I wouldn't have noticed had the water not rippled from their movement. It's been long enough in the cold water for the swelling to ease substantially. I grab a small clean rag to wrap them up in. Hopefully the shaking is just a shiver from the cold, rather than fear from their situation. Without my hands to keep them in the glass, they get free and a thump sounds from the sink. As I return they are heading back to the side of the glass from the corner of the sink. I don't question it for now.

They try to slide themselves away from my hand and the cloth. We both know they can't get far. I still understand why they try, that sliver of hope that they can crawl off to some corner, and heal on their own.

I scoop their shivering body into the cloth. Once again massaging their legs, but this time to dry their legs instead of restoring circulation. I can feel their eyes on me, darting back and forth, up and down. My eyes return to theirs, whose drift back to their legs.

After I'm sure their legs and pants are dry I place them onto the counter, the cloth still under them just incase they need it for warmth.

"Would you like some water? Food perhaps?"

Only a nod emerges from the small creature. I break into my Dad's shot glasses, there aren't any smaller vessels for water in the kitchen; so it will have to do.

-Violet-

While his back is turned I crawl away from the cloth. I have to get out of here. I can hear him clicking glasses behind me. I should have enough time to get to the edge of the counter while his back is turned. My ankles are still tingling with numbness. While he was grabbing that rag I tried to climb out of the sink, not that it worked. Neither did I make it halfway to the corner of the sink on my legs before collapsing, I was barely able to make it back to the glass when he got back.

It's hard to get much distance by crawling on my hands and knees. Especially the foot-long distance between where I was and the end of the counter. The water turns on, filling what I can only assume to be a small glass. I don't have much time to escape, nevertheless I can't just stay here either. He's just trying to gain my trust. I can't fall for it, I won't. I finally reach the end of the counter. Instead of trying to climb down with the lack of tools I have, I scurry behind a pile of mail for now. My tail tucks behind the pile just in time to hear him turn around and sigh.

"Come on, you have to know by now that I don't want to hurt you. It will be easier for both of us if you get back to full health as soon as possible. I just want to get you on your way, and you hiding will only lengthen the time you have to be with me."

What? No. He's lying. He just wants me to come out so he can kill me. It... It wouldn't make sense for him to just let me go.

He starts to move different objects around, most of it is just random bread items he can't fit anywhere else. Eventually he gets to my side of the counter, I try to lean into the pile of mail so he won't see me. I turn my head away from him and tuck my tail around my waist. Humans lock onto faces quicker than their mind can process what they're looking at. It's apparently a survival tactic, seeing faces out of nothing. It's the first thing I've always done when a human is nearby, it makes it less likely for them to spot me, due to there being no face for their brain to lock onto.

"There we go. Come here."

The shadow cast by the papers in front of me disappeared. His hand creeps near me, first laying with his palm up. I just stare at it. I won't do it. I don't even know if I can. The thought paralyzes me.

'Please don't touch me.'

Please just let me leave'

'please...'

"I don't want to force you to be near me, but there's not much of a choice here. I want you to get better, and you need my help for that. No matter how much you want to deny it."

'no... please'

His other hand reaches behind me and slowly pushes me onto his flattened palm. Like using a fork to get the last bit of food on your plate upon a spoon. I pull away, yet his hand is firm on my back.

"Sorry little one. Let's get you some water and food. Then we can see if you're able to walk. If so, then you can go. We won't have to talk again."

I'm returned to the center of the counter. A glass two-thirds my height filled with water is settled next to the rag, along with a small empty plate. He turns away once more, however it's futile to try and leave again. I should spare myself the feeling of getting held as much as possible.

He returns with a small bag of crackers in his hand, one side is ripped open from when I grabbed a single cracker earlier in the morning. He widens the hole and pours the crackers onto the plate. I lower my head when he tries to meet my gaze.

"It's okay, just get as much food and water as you need. Please?"

He sounds so sincere. I just don't understand why? There's no reason for him to help me. I steal from him, I keep trying to escape. Wouldn't it be easier to just kill me? Or let me go?

-Asor-

They still haven't met my eyes since I found them hiding. Although after what felt like hours of waiting, they broke off several pieces of cracker and took what looked like their first drink of water in months. It took them several more minutes to make a small dent in the first cracker, though it was likely enough for their small body.

"Can... can I go now?"

Her voice was a harp playing a deep and low melody.

"Hm..? Ah right yes, sorry. Let's see how well you can walk first, and hopefully you'll be on your way little one."

I placed my hand where she is, then my other hand about a foot and half away. It shouldn't be that hard if her legs are working. Yet, the damage done to her legs by that stupid trap -not humane at all- it may be a challenge.

Her eyes glanced towards me like I was crazy. She doesn't have a lick of confidence in herself does she?

"I know it seems like a lot, but if your legs are fine it should be no problem."

She looked between both of my hands and got up from her spot. She was limping at the start, then trying to speed through it as if she could outpace her legs collapsing.

"Ah ah ah, you can do this, regular pace little mousey."

Her eyes widen a little, then she resumes a normal walking style. She falls less than a second later, her legs hit the marble counter with a tiny thud. She traces her eyes to my approaching hands, and gets back up. I don't let her get more than two steps by scooping her gently into my palms.

"N-No! We both know it would be easier if I left! You said it yourself!"

"That only applied if you could walk far on your own."

...

"Was that thump in the sink earlier from you failing to walk, or were you actually just climbing out of the glass?"

She lowers her head again, those small brown eyes wide and full of fear. If only I could let her leave in good conscience. I can have her settled on my desk while I work.

"Let's get the crackers clean up, then you can stay on my desk. Unfortunately for your legs, it's not like you'll be able to get far while I'm distracted."

-Violet-

He sets me onto the counter, turning his back with the dishes in hand. I can't stay here. I don't want to stay with him any longer. I backed away from the edge of the counter, the water rushing on the porcelain is able to drown out my legs hitting the counter once again. I reach the toaster, and as I get to the back of it his hand lands afront of me.

'No...'

"I told you, you won't get far even while I'm distracted."

I turn around, another hand is in front of me again.

"No, please..."

I'm scooted into his palm. He covers me with the opposite hand, something I can seldom be annoyed about as it covers me from the view of my altitude shifting upwards. He carries me upstairs, keeping me safe from the bumps of his steps. He opens his door, instead of uncovering my view of the height, he holds his palm to his chest. I hear the gentle, yet quick beating of his heart. Eventually the sight of his room floods my peripheral. He lowers his palm to his desk. I'm able to regain a bit of control as I slowly crawl onto the desk. Instead of the cold hard wood I expected to greet me, I find myself on his soft mousepad.

I don't stay long however, I opt to back away and lean against the wall.'

"My shift begins soon, so let me know if you need anything. I won't be able to talk while on call, but I can still help."

The only thing I want to do is leave. He won't let me anyways.

"Oh right, before I begin my shift I meant to ask. What's your name? Since I can't keep calling you 'little one' or 'mousey'."

"Oh... Violet, but just Vi please."

True Fear

-Violet-

My rations have been growing low, and so is my patience for all of the other stuff he's been doing around the house. He always gets up early for work, and recently he's been moving his alarm up earlier and earlier. Yesterday it was at five forty-five. But the best I could do today was five. I haven't learned how to read fully yet, however I can make out and understand basic numbers. I've been checking the time on his oven clock, because I have no clue how an 'analog clock' works. The one he has in his room doesn't even have numbers, just lines.

On the bright side of all the renovations he has been doing, most of the outlets are open, and some walls don't have the dry wall in place, so I get to slide down the pipes and hide behind them when needed. It's been almost two years since he moved into this house, but he still doesn't have the kitchen fully furnished. He clearly has enough money for all of this, so I don't understand why he just doesn't hire a bunch of people to get it done? It does mean there are less people to deal with around here, yet having regular cabinets and drawers would make it easier to hide here.

I slide down the back of a pipe near his fridge, and head to his bookshelf he calls a pantry. Reaching for my bag I feel around for my hook, which I attach to the rope that hangs the satchel from my shoulder. It makes a pulley like system, which means I don't have to carry my bag around because it can just hang from the hook. I grabbed some basic crackers, sugar, and some dried apple pieces. It will work for today since I don't have all my bags, thanks to my drowsy state from waking up so early I completely forgot to grab them. All my food is barely in my bag when I hear him getting up from the opposite side of the house. I start sliding down my rope as quick as possible, unlatching it once I get to the bottom. Slipping under the bottom shelf right as I hear his door open. I'm not used to him remembering to turn off the lights, and I haven't been able to get a new light source after mine died a week ago. So I have to feel my way around, eventually my shoulder reaches the wall and I head to an open outlet box.

My mind doesn't have time to process my foot hitting something higher than the floor in front of me before I trip. The mouse-trap snaps over the back of my upper legs. My bag slides forward, what I can guess to be several inches from my perspective. The crackers scattered around the rough brick flooring, the same flooring I can hear Asor's footsteps falling on as he hastily checks all the different mouse traps he left strategically around the house. I can't even wrench my head back to see the extent of the damage.

Time slows down in my brain.

I don't know if my death is imminent. If it is, will it be quick? Will he drown me in a bucket to make sure any other borrowers will to know to leave? Will he draw it out to make me suffer? Or will he release me outside? Sparing me from the horrors that the human kind can come up with to torture someone they hate. It's hard to think through the countless fears flooding my mind. I can barely breathe in my panic. My vision is like a static screen when someone turns to the wrong channel. My arms don't have the amount of strength I would need to drag myself a sufficient distance. Regardless I try. I use my arms like oars trying to cut through rushing waters. The scraping of wood against brick draws his attention. Two emotions fight for control of my mind, fear and anger.

I'm mad at myself for not getting a light source sooner, before going out in the dark when I know there are mouse traps around. How could I be so stupid? I'm mad at him for setting up the traps in the first place. He droned on and on to himself about how they were 'humane' and that they 'wouldn't hurt anything that got caught'. That is clearly bullshit. My legs are throbbing under the crushing weight of the bar. The reminder of the pain just makes the fear rush back in at full force.

I don't have time to worry about what will happen anymore. I don't have time to drag the mousetrap away anymore. My perception of time returns to normal. The kitchen light turns on. He leans now to the bottom of the bookshelf. The sliver of sight I had, a four inch gap spanning the floor to the underside of the bottom shelf is now filled with his face. The only thing I can grasp onto as I try to cling onto my conscious state is panic. My scream is nothing but a strangled gasp.

"Oh, I didn't expect this to be the mousey stealing my food."

-Asor-

Have you ever enjoyed something so much that you think, “Wow, I want to do this for a living, I want to spend my life working on this.” ? Do you also want to live comfortably, with a good paycheck? Well you can’t have both. Not in this world, not with the way the economy works in modern life. If you want to enjoy your job, you will have to live paycheck to paycheck. You’ll have to skip on food to pay the bills. You’ll have to worry if you will have a roof over your head next month. But, if you decide to work something boring, and high paying, you can actually live comfortably, and eat enough food to support your life. Eventually, we are all absorbed into the corporate chain, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. We’ve all heard it before.

That’s what I was told when my Pop learned I was planning on attending a Veterinary school. He shut me down as soon as I told him I got in. If I wanted any support from my Pop, if I wanted to live a healthy life, I would have to work a boring office job. I cried that night, a grown man, who could go to nightclubs, pay his taxes, bought his own car, and car insurance; cried himself to sleep in his too-small twin bed. He drilled the idea into me that being a pessimist was the ‘adult’ and ‘realistic’ way to live. I can’t forgive him, but I can’t completely blame him either. After my Dad left, Pop was different. He became more secluded, and his presence was more depressing than the usual happy go lucky attitude he had with Dad. He lost one of, if not the most important thing in his life. But I did too.

I moved to New Zealand four years ago. I still have my Pop’s support, even though I’ve moved several hours away. I wanted a fresh start, to move past the grief and what became a suffocating house. I still almost believe what my Pop said, so far I have lived a very upper or middle class life. I bought my own house eventually, a small one but a house nonetheless. I started renovations as soon as I moved in, the house was old and in desperate need of repairs. It was so closed up, so I removed most of the walls and turned it more into an open concept minimalist style. I know it’s quite boring, but it works for me. The renovations are still on going, but it’s hard to get work done when there’s banging on the walls across the house.

I work as a help hotline for a big company, so I get calls all the time when I’m on shift. The rest of the time is spent writing emails, and picking up little tasks here and there for my bosses. I spend over twelve hours a day at my desk, the rest is either sleeping or trying to cut out time to get the kitchen done. When I get an actual day off or a break, I take online vet classes. Hopefully if I save up enough money I can actually do what I enjoy, taking care of little animals, especially rodents.

Besides all of my daily work and classes, I barely get enough sleep or food. My life is consumed by my work, just like my Pop after Dad disappeared. If I wasn’t so dependent on the money I get from my job, I would go back and tell him off. Tell him that he can’t just dump all of his emotional baggage onto a son that is dealing with the same crap.

I’ve had too many depressive episodes, and health scares to count. I need the money I make to ensure I live to see the next year. Just like how I thought it would be if I became a Vet. I know I can fix all of this. I know I could just change my life in an instant and leave it all behind. I can’t risk it. Not after what happened to my Dad when he did the same. His letter he left my Pop and I still haunts me to this day. I can only hope he is safe. But for now? My work is all I have.

-Violet-

I am a borrower. I live in probably one of the best houses a borrower could live in. My host almost never leaves his room, and when he does? He’s too groggy to notice me. I almost feel bad for the guy, considering all the stuff I can get away with taking. I do have quite the advantage with my rodent features, so what else could I expect from myself? The tail is definitely one of my favorite traits I have, I can swing from nails and screws, grab stuff from afar, and the added balance is a great bonus too. No falling from shelves or into sinks for me. My spectacular memory would be an amazing addition to my long list of pros if Asor didn’t have such a horrid schedule. I swear he changes it every single week to piss me off, but he doesn’t know I’m here so that’s obviously not the reason. He never has guests over either, unless you count the people that fix the poorly done renovations he did, but they stopped coming last year. I hate what they’ve done with the beautiful house he had. It had so many nooks and crannies, vents, walls, the whole nine yards. But now he has utterly decimated it with this ‘open concept minimalist’ crap I’ve heard him call it. He never leaves the house though, and he has his groceries delivered, which means there’s seldom time I have to myself in this house. I’m lucky if he sleeps at all.

He stays up quite late, and he leaves the lights on frequently, which means I usually don’t have to worry about memorizing the layout of his kitchen. Not that it’s hard to find what I want. My sense of smell is spectacular and he doesn’t have a pantry; all the basic food items are on a literal bookshelf just smack dab in the middle of his kitchen. So all I have to do is traverse the six or so shelves there. Practically everything he does at night is on the opposite side of the house. Chores like laundry, cleaning, and taking out the trash. And no, for some reason the weirdo has no trash in his kitchen.

Boring

-Asor-

Every single time I take a call, she tries to crawl off my desk. “Alright. That’s enough.” I nudge her into my palm and settle her down in my coat pocket. The zipper started too high up for her to climb out, so she shouldn’t be able to escape easily. My phone rings again, and I move my focus for the moment.

-Violet-

Usually I sleep in a hammock, so this isn’t too bad. Oddly enough, his pocket would be comfortable, if it wasn't for it being such a scratchy fabric. But I would still rather be resting in my vent. While I was still thinking, the phone rang. I discreetly began to reach for the zipper, pulling it up. I had to jump to get it to be barely half an inch open. If he gave my bag back, I could have used my toothpick to extend my reach, but no he’s too concerned with his work for that. 

I get about halfway out of the zipper when he hung up the phone. I try to go a bit slower so he doesn’t notice me, but then he pushes me back in with just his finger. The light quickly fades from the pocket as he closes the zipper. Damnit. 

“Come on mousey, you can behave better than that.”

“I gave you my name for a reason!”

“Fine, Vi, you can behave better than that.” His words send a shiver down my spine. I’ve never met a human before, but I can tell he’s got to be more stubborn than most. I can’t believe that I have to be stuck with someone who has this much power over what I do. I’m not even scared anymore. I’m just plain annoyed. It’s hard to believe I was so afraid of getting caught by this overworked, stubborn, PIECE OF SH—. I need to control my temper, he’s not that bad. Compared to everything I’ve been through, it’s not the end of the world.

Thankfully I don’t get bored easily, unlike the humans my kind is cursed to deal with. Despite this, after sitting in Asor’s pocket for over two hours, I am bored out of my mind. I need something to do or I am going to go insane. I shouldn’t say that, sorry ma. Now I definitely need something to distract me or else I’m going to get homesick. 

“Could I draw or something? It’s not very interesting being stuck in the dark for hours on end.” I hope he regrets sticking me in here for so long, it’s inhumane. Not that I am a human in the slightest, but still.

“Dammit, sorry I forgot you were in there for a bit. You’re awfully quiet, and still. Even for a borrower. Let me pull out a book for you.”

He set me on his desk and reached above me to grab a book. His shirt untucked slightly, and he quickly shoved it back down. I don’t understand why some humans choose to tuck in their clothes, it’s so uncomfortable. It’s not like he needs to see anyone, he barely leaves the house.

He sets the book down in front of me. I barely know how to read, but he doesn’t seem to have much entertainment around. I attempted to read the title, but I could only make out two words: The _____ of _______. It’s going to be a long day if this is just the start. 

He opens up the first page and sets me on top. Despite him treating me quite gently, I don’t like how much he grabs me. He seems to care, but he doesn’t even ask me if he can first. 

I can’t understand any of the words in this book, but Asor is already back to typing away on his computer. Instead of just telling him, I decided to just study the diagram on this page instead. It’s just five rodent tails, one of which looks quite alike mine. The diagram claims to be “Life size” but none of them are as small as mine. I don’t see how he finds this very interesting. 

Why get a book on something so boring? He has almost nothing for entertainment in his house. He has a small TV, but I’ve only ever seen him watch something he calls “news”. He never seems to be happy watching it either, it’s like he’s determined to be miserable. If anything, thinking to myself how bland his life is, happens to be more enthralling than this book. 

“Alright Vi, I’m on my break, let’s get some food in you.”

“I’m leaving after I eat”

“Depends if you can walk.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“And? You won’t be able to make it very far if you can’t walk.”

“I’ll crawl if it comes to it.”

“You’re such a stubborn little thing.”

“Just let me leave dammit! You can go back to your empty life if I’m not here!”

“Empty?”

“Oh don’t act like you even do anything! You just sit around at your desk all day talking to other boring humans like yourself! You never do anything fun. It’s helpful as hell that you stay cooped up all day, but you have to be miserable. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk face to face with another goddamned human. The most interesting thing you do is leave the house for food once a month!“

He didn’t respond for several seconds. Shit... he’s gonna kill me. My hand clasped around my mouth and I slowly backed away on my back.

“I’m sorry... that... I-I didn’t mean that.” I could feel my tail slowly creep between around legs, I’m sure it would be between them if I was standing. My shoulders fell when I put my hands out in front of me as if I could block what was sure to happen.

-Asor-

I can’t tell if I should be pissed off or worried. Although, she has the manners to apologize, even while she’s shaking. I slowly reached my hand to her, to which she tried to scurry away on her legs, not that she got that far on her still healing limbs. I reached to put my hands in front of her, she practically fell into them. I gathered her close to my chest and carried her down the stairs, I used one hand to hold her and the other to gently rub her side with the back of a finger. Her eyes still wide and staring almost through my hand.

“Shh, it’s alright, we’re just gonna go get some food in you, yeah?”

She blinked. As if trying to comprehend what I just said.

I let her continue trying to understand that I in fact do not want to hurt her. I finally got to the kitchen and set her on the counter, turning around to the 'pantry' to grab some crackers and salami. I would break out the cheese, but I don’t need her getting hooked on the expensive stuff I got from the store. She just needs some protein and carbs for now. I can get her some greens too later. I put together a couple of ‘cracker sandwiches’ and gave her the smallest one on a napkin. It’s not like she could eat an entire one anyways.

“Please eat. It’s lunch time for you and me. You must be hungry by now.”

“Why aren’t you mad?”

“Because you can think what you wish about me. My life is quite boring from your perspective. But I... am fine with it.” I couldn’t help but hesitate. I hate lying.

“No, you should be mad at me. I lashed out, you should be mad at me. That’s how this works.”

-Violet-