They rolled over and yanked the blankets up over their head. Please, just 10 more minutes. I just need 10 more minutes. Or maybe 20.
For a moment: darkness, silence, stillness. Charlie breathed in softly and felt their body loosen.
"Meeeeeeeeoooooowwww... meeeeeeoooooowww..."
Their body shot upright, as if spring-loaded, sending a pillow soaring over the end of the bed.
"OH MY GOD. OKAY. FINE. YOU WIN."
The cat just stood and stared, stoney-faced, featureless, revealing nothing. A face that said, I don't know what you're talking about.
As they swung their legs over the edge of the bed and jammed their cold toes into the fraying slippers waiting dutifully beside the bedpost, a shiver ran through them. January cold--bright and clear and almost painful.
Charlie shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of cat food from the bag on the floor, adding it to the already-partly-full bowl. The slouchy orange tabby darted between their legs and dove head-first into the bowl, crunching ravenously on the little brown pebbles.
"Why couldn't you just eat what was already in there?"
The cat looked up at Charlie briefly, giving them a big, slow blink of approval. A loud purring commenced.
Charlie considered flinging themself back into bed, but the thought of renewing the game of hide-and-seek with the noise and the sunlight felt exhausting. No, better to accept defeat than fight the losing battle. The day had begun.
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