Heey, this is my first attempt at a fluffy story here. I have plans for more parts to this and I’ll continue the story if there’s a demand for it. Also, wasn’t entirely sure what all tags to use here, so suggestions are welcome.
Mike stumbled out of the pub he had spent the last several hours at. He began to make his way down the dimly lit street, slowly heading back towards his tiny studio apartment. He was so intoxicated that his vision had become blurry and he began to wonder if he’d even be able to make it home tonight. Part of him didn’t even care if he made it home at all. It was the part of him that had a death wish, because death would at least be a release from his misery. As he continued down the street he felt his stomach retch and he ducked into a dark alley just before he involuntarily emptied the contents of his stomach onto a building wall. He continued to vomit up his night of binge drinking until there was nothing left. After a few minutes Mike was able to reign in the dry heaving and he leaned against the wall trying to catch his breath.
Then he felt himself break. The emotional trauma of the past couple months that he had been suppressing with his drinking came rushing back into his mind. He took a couple steps backwards, fell to the ground, and began sobbing uncontrollably.
Goddammit. It’s just too much.
Ever since the car accident 2 months ago that had taken the life of his daughter, Mike had been losing his will to keep going. He was utterly devastated and couldn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel. He sat alone, weeping in the darkness of the alley, and Mike felt the last of his will to live leaving him. Just as his mind was about to drift towards thoughts of how to end his life, he felt something furry soflty touching his arm. He opened his eyes and his hazy vision saw an orange fluffy. It was standing on its hind legs, with its front legs attempting a hug around one of his arms. The fluffy gazed up at Mike with a sad and concerned look.
“Mistah hab wostest saddies? Fwuffy gib huggies an make aw bettah.”
Mike stared blankly at the tiny ball fluff, as he attempted to comprehend exactly what was happening. The little creature wasn’t much bigger than a gerbil, though it seemed to look even smaller as it was attempting to wrap its tiny little front legs around his arm. It had dark purple mane and tail, and it’s fluff was a bright orange that was dimmed by a layer of grime. Its big bright blue eyes stared into Mike’s as he continued to gawk at it.
“Uh…” Mike stammered. He didn’t know too much about fluffies, but he probably knew a bit more than the average person. He personally had no interest in the things, but had done plenty of research on them when his daughter had asked for one. He was even planning on getting one for her before the…
He pushed the thought from his mind.
“Thanks for the hug little man,” Mike finally managed to push back his self loathing long enough to form a sentence. The fluffy, however, seemed slightly annoyed at his response.
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry then, girl.”
The young filly beamed up at him. “It am otay, mistah! Fwuffy just nu wan ou to hab wowstest saddies.”
“Well, I appreciate the thought.” Mike kept the rest of that train of thought to himself. That his ‘wowstest saddies’ were far from gone. No point in making the little thing feel like her effort was in vain. “Well young lady, I should probably get home now. So you should probably get back to your mom and dad.” The little filly’s cheerful demeanor immediately shifted and she began to weep, just as Mike had been doing moments ago.
Ah shit, what did I do?!
The filly broke off her small hug and sat back on her haunches, continuing to bawl. “Mommah and daddeh gu fowebah sweeties! Nu hab famiwy nu mowe!”
Mike felt his heart rip in two. Of all the things to sew himself in… a little ball of weeping orange fur. He reached his hand down and gently scratched behind her ears. She eased her crying at his touch, and even cooed slightly, as she looked up at him. “I understand how you feel, little one. I… I don’t have a family anymore either.” Then he saw in her eyes the same feeling she had just given him. Her heart had ripped in two.
“Mistah nu hab famiwy tu? Dat am su saddies.”
Mike wasn’t sure if it was his lingering intoxication or depression, but he was about to do something that he felt like was probably a stupid decision. “When was the last time you had something to eat?”
The filly’s stomach grumbled at the mere mention of food. “Huuu… fwuffy nu hab nummies in su many fowebahs.”
Mike held his hand to the filly, inviting her to step on. “Well I don’t have much at my place, but if you want to come with me, I’ll find you something.”
“Weawwy?!” The fluffy’s eyes lit up as she stepped onto Mike’s hand. “Mistah be nyu Daddeh?”
As Mike gently brought the little fluff up to his chest, his entire being winced when he heard ‘daddeh’. It was a crushing wave of mixed emotions. Happy thoughts of all the times with his daughter, her laughter, and the joy he felt hearing her say ‘dad’. Then… the earth shattering thought that he would never hear her again. Deep down he wanted to tell the little creature in his hands not to call him that. But he knew that she wasn’t capable of understanding why it was so hard for him to hear, and he didn’t want to pile his misery onto her. “Yeah, little one. I’ll be your new daddy.”
Mike kept the fluffy held up to his chest as he walked home, and the little chatterbox gave her life story to him along the way. As it turned out, her life story was pretty short. She was born in a nearby alley and lived with her mom, dad, and a couple siblings… up until their home was attacked by a stray dog. She was the only one to survive the assault and had been roaming the alleys by herself until she saw a crying Mike. They finally made it into the shabby little apartment and Mike sat her down on his coffee table, warning her to not go near the edges. He was about to apologize for the shabby accommodations but then he heard her exclaim, “Wub nyu housie!”
I guess since she grew up on the street, fighting for her life, this place seemed like paradise.
Mike had started to dig around in the kitchen for something a fluffy could eat when he heard a quiet, “Pwetty wittle hoomin.” He looked over and saw the fluffy looking at the picture of his daughter that was sitting on the coffee table. He walked over and gently scratched her ears. “Daddeh?” The little filly spoke in-between coos. “Can fwuffy hab namesies?”
Mike choked back tears while looking at the picture of his daughter with the cooing fluffy, and then smiled.