We Know Not What We Do
Part 15
Sunday before finals - crunch time. Steve was holding mocha at the table while studying. Absentmindedly scratching at her ears while twirling his pencil with his free hand. “You like that?” He asked as he hits the good spot. Mocha’s neck stretches, eyes narrow, head tilts, back leg starts thumping against the table, it was a full body experience for her.
He did entertain the thought that at this point both Prince and Mocha were so much bigger. They used to fit in his palm, together, now, they were the size of small cats. Mocha was noticeably larger than Prince, she had filled out much more than her brother as evidence from his malnourishment. Steve paused a moment from his book to watch Prince on the floor wrestling with 'Tuffy. He didn’t know who was winning at this point, both prince and the stuffed bear missing their left arm, but it was an epic struggle.
Dinner time was fast approaching and cooking was not Steve’s strong suit. Sure, he could make basic stuff, but he was more likely to order takeout as his fridge mostly held alcohol, mixers, and condiments. He closed the fridge, welp, takeout again he thought to himself. This was one of the first times eating dinner at home with the fluffies being able to eat solid food. They usually were asleep or locked in their room when he ate, so Steve hadn’t dealt with any of the usual fluffy begging for, well, anything.
Mocha and Prince sat near Steve, he was at the table eating fries. “Daddeh?” Mocha looked up with her big brown eyes, her front hooves tapping together, “um… Daddeh, Mocha wuz tinkin’ dat Pwince an Mocha been weal weal gud an… Jus widdle babbehs an nee bes nummies.” She looked over to Prince, “bwudah nee gud nummies.” Prince nodded in agreement.
“You aren’t babies any more, eat your kibble.”. He didn’t even look down, her sorrowful look ignored.
“Buh… Dat all yu gib fwuffies and daddeh hab bes smewwin’ nummies. An da kibbwe nu as gud smewwin’.”
“No, I’m not giving you my food, stop asking.”
This wasn’t going to stop Mocha, she was a persistant one. “Weww… Den, wat if daddeh gibs babbehs miwkies?” It has been several bright time since she and Prince had been given a bottle.
“No, you’re not babies anymore. Eat the kibble,” his annoyance coming through.
“Buh Mocha wub daddeh’s miwkies. Daddeh hab da bes miwkies.” It was almost a whine, she curled her tail and hugged it.
The fry fell from his fingers back to the takeout container. “What? Mocha, never say that again.”
“Wat?” Her head tilted and she looked confused. “Buh daddeh hab bes miwkies, dey warm and su gud.”
“Never say that. Ever. Jesus Christ, what the fuck?”
Mocha’s eyes sparkled. She wasn’t the smartest fluffy, not by a long shot. Partly due to Steve and his absolute neglect when it came to anything educational. But some how, the tiny and rusty gears in her dumb little brain turned. “Su, if Mocha nu tawk 'bao daddeh’s miwkies daddeh gib mocha and pwince hoomin nummies?”
Steve had never facepalmed so hard before. He was just blackmailed by a fluffy. Or was that possibly extortion? Either way, he lost. “Fine. I’ll give you both some french fries. But I swear to God, if you ever say that again-”
Prince interrupted him this time “daddeh’s miwkies? Can Pwince tawk 'bao daddeh’s miwkies?”
“NO!” He roared.
But both prince and mocha stood their ground. To which they were rewarded, each with their own small plate and three french fries. Mocha picked one up and managed to fit half of it in her mouth. Her eyes went wide with delight as she ate it as fast as she could. Prince couldn’t hold it, so he stood over the plate and ate. After the first bite he looked up, “dank 'ou daddeh.”
Mocha, the second fry half gone, the other half still in her mouth, “DANK YU DADDEH!” Bits of half chewed french fry flew from her mouth with her words of thanks.
After dinner studying went as well as expected. But, he had some bad news to share. Prince was back to wrestling with 'Tuffy in the living room while Mocha rolled the ball around. “Hey, guys, I’ve got finals coming up. So, for the next five days I won’t be around much.”
Mocha and Prince shared a look. She asked first, “Wat am daiyes?”
“Uh…” He grabbed the helpful fluffy pamphlet. “Bright times. Five bright times.”
Prince this time had a question. “Wat am fiffe? Fwive?” He frowned trying to figure out how to say it.
“Oh, that’s this many,” and he held up his hand. “Each finger is a bright time. So, tomorrow is one, and then there are four more after.”
Prince went back to 'Tuffy and swiftly bopped the bear on the head, “dat otay daddeh, Pwince and Mocha use tu daddeh nu hewe.” Both fluffies returned to playing, not paying Steve much attention.
Steve had managed to sneak in and out of the safe room with the food and water bowls. He had almost made a quick and stealthy escape if it wasn’t for the squeaky hinge he still hadn’t oiled. The light hadn’t woken the two, but that squeak certainly did. Mocha bounded out of bed as fast as her fluffy legs could carry her, she launched herself at Steve’s leg and cried, “Pwease daddeh, nu weabe babbehs!” His pant leg become wet from tears and fluffy snot. It was 5am and Steve was having none of this.
He grabbed her by her scruff and she chirped as she was hoisted up and then peeped as she hit her bed. “Nice shot. Now, stop crying. I’ve left an extra bowl of kibble and I’ll see you tonight.”
“Buh Mocha nu wan kibbwe, Mocha wan daddeh!”
He didn’t know where this was coming from as she wasn’t particularly stubborn about it yesterday. “I know, and once finals are over, we’ll get to spend all day together. And we can play in the snow again.”
Mocha pouted and scratched at her ear. Prince, well, Prince had the usual look on his face, almost seemed like indifference Steve thought. “Now, it’s still much too early, go back to sleep.” The door closed behind him.
Prince curls back up, “Pwince tink daddeh wyin’, wat Mocha tink?”
Mocha didn’t respond and scratched at her ears again. It was a good enough answer for him.
It was after 10pm when Steve returned home. And to avoid any issues with Prince or Mocha, he softly closed the front door. Everything move he made was an act to keep the two fluffies asleep. They should’ve been asleep, it had been hours since the sun went down and the only light in the room was the small nightlight. He continued his evening routine, just much quieter. I can’t believe I’m tiptoeing around my own house…
He took a gamble and opened the safe room door, and heaved a sigh of relief as it didn’t squeak. He tiptoed over to the bowls of half full food and half emptied water and slinked back out to refill them. Each step was made with such precision as to make as little sound as possible. Each bowl silently touched down on the carpet. With the refills, it was time to escape. His eyes locked with Prince, who was watching this whole endeavor. Steve stopped mid step, he was caught.
Instead, Prince didn’t say a word and put his head back down. The door closed without a squeak this time. After that incident, Steve left their safe door open. There were two litter boxes and food only in one spot, he figured it would be fine. He figured they could handle it fine for a few days without him. It would be four more bright times before Prince would see Steve again.
Finals were done, Steve could finally relax. The harder classes were over and it was time to celebrate. Celebrate he did, with classmates at the local dive bar, because, really a college student couldn’t afford a fancy whiskey bar. He managed to close out the bar, and 2am came way too fast for him. Lucky for Steve, he didn’t live too far, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to drive drunk again, this time his car was half on lawn.
He stumbled into the house, and the usual slam announced he was home. There was no yelling from his two fluffies this time, not that he would have noticed. And that managed to irk him. He was finally home, even if it was after 2am, the little shits should have been excited. “PRINCE!” He yells, certainly loud enough to wake even a fluffy.
Prince cautiously comes out from the safe room and does his hop walk into the living room. Steve leans down to pick up Prince but quickly loses what little sense of balance and falls over onto the couch. Prince still in his hand looking tired and annoyed, but Steve didn’t notice. He pokes him on the nose, “yaaaaa ah good fluffy bruh.” Steve’s eyes glaze over and hand goes limp, Prince tumbles from his hand to the floor. He softly grumbles about dummy smelly daddeh as he headed back to bed.
Just a few hours later he rolls off the couch and thuds onto the floor. He didn’t really know what was going on, but he felt the alarm screaming in his body - He needed the bathroom. On knees and elbows he drags himself to the bathroom and proceeds to scream at the toilet. Somehow he managed to stand and heaved himself into his messy bedroom. Had he been sober and had the light been on he would have seen Mocha asleep on top of some strewn about clothes. Had Mocha heard Steve yelling, she would have woken and greeted him with as much enthusiasm she could muster. Had any of those things happened perhaps he might have avoided stepping on Mocha’s tail.
“SCRREEEEEEEEEEE!” She screams, he falls, shit sprays out onto his foot and what were potentially clean clothes. Steve hits the floor and is out, unconscious, as much from the impact as the alcohol. Mocha bolts as the weight lifts from her tail and runs head first into the wall, falls onto her back also unconscious.
