Pet shelter whump (interactive)
Let the sunbathe a little, it's the evening sun
masterlist
The back door creaks open with a soft push, letting the warm hue of the evening sun spill into the hallway. The light paints long, golden strokes across the floor as you gesture to the bench outside.
You tell them to play outside and sunbathe.
Elliott steps out first, slowly, eyes darting around the small backyard. He treads cautiously on the wooden steps and reaches the bench, sitting stiffly on its edge. He keeps his hands on his knees, tense, and glances back at the house door like it's a lifeline. His leg begins to bounce.
Rashmi follows after him, tugging on his shirt to orient himself out, but instead of taking the bench, he lowers himself directly onto the patch of grass, wincing slightly but settling down carefully. He leans back, palms spread across the cool earth, face tilted toward the sun like a flower. His eyes don’t focus much, but he blinks slowly, soaking in the warmth, the breeze, the feel of crumbling leaves under his fingers. For the first time, he looks peaceful.
Elliott tries to sit still, but it doesn’t last. His shoulders twitch every time a bird chirps. He looks to the door. Then at you. Then at Rashmi. His lips part like he might say something, but nothing comes. After a long while, he stands up, paces, then sits again. His foot taps rapidly against the dirt.
After about thirty minutes, he finally walks up to where you're standing just inside the doorway.
“Um… Master?” he asks, eyes never quite meeting yours. “Can I go back inside now…?”
You give him a kind look, speaking gently. You tell him the sun is good for them and that they probably didn't have enough outdoor time at the shelter.
He blinks, fidgeting. “...There were no windows in our rooms,” he mutters. “Only when we were brought out for a few minutes.”
You nod. “Exactly. So I think it’s good to let your skin breathe and just… exist out here a while. Nothing’s going to happen. I promise.”
Elliott lowers his head and gives a small, rigid nod before turning back toward the bench. He doesn’t sit this time. He stands behind it, arms crossed over his chest, waiting.
The sun dips slowly lower, casting deeper shadows across the grass. Rashmi stays still on the ground, head tilted back and eyes fluttering half-closed. He shifts occasionally to feel the sun hit a different part of his face or to run his fingers through the grass like he’s committing the texture to memory.
Elliott remains on edge the entire time.
Eventually, an hour passes. You step outside and clap your hands gently. You tell them it's time to come in
Elliott doesn’t wait. The moment the words leave your mouth, he darts past you, slipping back inside without a word or glance at Rashmi. The brunette notices it, but Elliot left so quickly and he hadn't even gotten up.
Rashmi flinches at the sound. “...Already?” he asks quietly, not hiding the disappointment in his tone. He lingers in place for a second longer before slowly standing. He brushes grass from his clothes, his gaze unfocused as he tries to orient himself.
“Here,” you say, stepping toward him. “This way.”
He reaches for your voice. You gently guide him by the arm. He’s light and quiet, his bare feet brushing softly across the ground. He walks carefully, trusting your hand, though his expression is unreadable.
Once inside, he pauses in the hallway, taking a second to listen to the house.
You close the door behind him and speak softly, asking if he is alright.
He nods, just once.
Elliott is nowhere in sight.
What will you do now?
wait for Elliot to come back and do something else.
ask Rashmi what if something is wrong.
look for Elliot.
call for Elliot.
