Felix’s morning began with something tickling his nose.

In the haze of half-consciousness, he twitched his head to the side, trying to escape the sensation. It persisted—soft, feathery, and maddening. With a grumble, he swatted lazily at his face.

A quiet chuckle sounded nearby.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix’s eyes snapped open to find Virgil’s face mere inches from his own. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed, holding a strand of Felix’s silver-white hair delicately between his fingers. He was using it to brush under Felix’s nose with an almost childlike fascination.

And as if to emphasize that he was dealing with a childish man, Virgil’s hair was a messy nest and he actually wore bright teddy bear pajamas. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Virgil said, his grin wide and unapologetic. “Did you sleep well?”

Felix’s brain stuttered as it processed the scene. A strange man, sitting at face level with him. A strange man, in his bedroom. A strange man, messing with his hair.

His response was immediate and involuntary—a shriek loud enough to rattle the furniture.

Virgil burst into laughter, sitting back on his heels as Felix instinctively scrambled backward, his heart hammering in his chest, and with a soft poof, his ears and tails materialized.

“What the hell are you doing?” Felix demanded, clutching his blanket tightly around himself.

Virgil blinked, a delighted smile replacing the mirthful laughter. “Wow. You’re even cuter than I thought when you’re flustered.”

Before that dubious praise could sink in, he felt a strange sensation against his tail—a light, tentative stroke. His head whipped around to see Virgil holding his tail, his expression one of pure awe as he gave the soft fur an experimental pet.

“It’s so warm and fluffy,” Virgil said reverently, as if Felix’s tail was a miracle of the modern world.

Felix’s face burned crimson, caught somewhere between mortification and… was that pleasure? A small purr rumbled in his chest before he clamped his hands over his mouth, horrified. “Let go of my tail!”

“Don’t be shy,” Virgil teased, giving the fur one last admiring stroke before finally releasing it. “You should show these off more often. They’re adorable.”

Felix’s ears flattened against his head in embarrassment. “I don’t want to show them off!”

“Shame,” Virgil said with a shrug, though the amused glint in his eyes suggested he didn’t regret his actions one bit.

Before Felix could retaliate, the door flew open, and Albrecht burst in like a scene from a melodrama. His silk eye mask had been pushed up onto his forehead, and he clutched the lapels of a hastily donned silk bathrobe that still managed to flutter dramatically as he entered.

“What’s going on? Do you need help, dearest?” Albrecht asked, his tone demanding but still somehow showing concern. His eyes landed on Felix’s disheveled form and then on Virgil, who had now flopped onto the carpet with a grin. 

Albrecht’s expression soured. “Of course, it’s you.”

Virgil gave a lazy wave from the floor. “Morning, Peacock. You’re just in time to witness Felix’s adorable wake-up routine.”

Felix, feeling like he had finally found some support, pointed an accusatory finger at Virgil. “He was watching me sleep! And—and—he touched my tail!”

Albrecht’s brows shot up, and his lips curled into a sneer of disdain. “Even for you, that’s grotesquely uncouth. Do you not understand the concept of boundaries?”

However, undermining his words was the way he stepped further into the room, his eyes zeroing in on Felix’s ears with what could only be described as blatant admiration. He murmured as if speaking to himself, “Soft, pristine fur, perfect proportions… Exquisite.”

“Pot~ kettle~” Virgil sang, smirking knowingly.

Felix buried his face in his hands, groaning. He decided to ignore Albrecht and addressed the main problem here. “Why were you even in my room?”

Virgil, looking entirely too pleased with himself, propped his chin on his hand. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came to hang out with you. Got here around four. You’re a surprisingly peaceful sleeper for someone so high-strung.”

Felix stared at him, flabbergasted. “You were in here for hours?”

Virgil nodded, completely unrepentant.

Albrecht scoffed, adjusting the sash of his robe. “And people call me high-maintenance.” He turned to Felix with a look of genteel indignation. “My dear, might I suggest some house rules for this one?”

“…” Felix seriously contemplated the suggestion. That was how far out of his mind he was.

“But, if that’s all, I’ll return to my morning routine. I do have a self-care regimen to maintain.” Seeing that nothing was amiss with his master other than an annoying fellow pet, Albrecht turned on his heel and swept out of the room, the image of unflappable elegance.

As the door closed behind Albrecht, Felix turned back to Virgil, who was still lounging on the carpet like he was the cat overlord here.

“You watched me sleep,” Felix repeated, his tone flat. Clearly not willing to let Virgil off the hook yet.

Virgil shrugged again, a carefree gesture that did nothing to calm Felix’s temper. “Yup. You looked peaceful. It was oddly therapeutic.”

Felix glared, ears twitching in irritation. “That’s not normal.”

“Normal’s boring,” Virgil said cheerfully, leaning back on his hands.

Felix facepalmed. “Virgil, seriously. If you can’t sleep, you need to tell me. Sneaking into my room and scaring the shit out of me is not the solution.”

Virgil’s watched him, and for a fleeting moment, there was a hint of something more vulnerable in his expression. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve had insomnia for years. I’m used to it.”

Felix hesitated, his irritation warring with a growing sense of sympathy. He wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this. Virgil’s flippant attitude made it easy to dismiss his problems, but Felix couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than he was letting on.

“Virgil,” Felix said finally, his voice firm, and Virgil blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in tone. “If it happens again, tell me. Don’t sneak around, don’t do… whatever else you did before to cope. Just wake me up, okay?”

Virgil tilted his head, studying Felix curiously. “You’d let me wake you up in the middle of the night? Just like that?”

“Yes,” Felix said without hesitation. “I’d rather lose a little sleep than find out you’ve been… I don’t know, doing something weird or self-destructive.”

For a moment, Virgil looked genuinely taken aback. Then his usual grin returned, softer this time. “You’re a strange one, Felix. But… thanks.”

Felix nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Just don’t make it a habit, okay? I still need sleep too.”

“No promises,” Virgil said with a wink, though there was a warmth in his tone that made Felix think he’d actually take the offer seriously.

As Virgil finally left the room, whistling his usual jaunty tune, Felix flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. His tail twitched involuntarily, still warm from another hand not his own petting it.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined starting his day as a Regal One with a full household of human pets.

But despite his complaints, he couldn’t deny the faint sense of satisfaction that lingered. It was exhausting, yes, but for the first time in a long time, Felix felt like he was starting to understand what it meant to be responsible for someone else—and maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to care for them in ways he hadn’t expected.

*

In the attached bathroom, Felix splashed cold water on his face. He looked into the mirror, catching sight of his fluffy white ears and swishing tail. He glared, concentrating until they disappeared with a soft shimmer. At least he was getting increasingly good at controlling his ears and tail.

Stepping back into his bedroom, Felix took a moment to gather himself. His apartment in the sleek and modern Sphinx Tower was apparently arranged by the Pet Bureau. It had five bedrooms, each with an attached bathroom, and his human pets had moved in yesterday after the choosing ceremony.

The day before had gone surprisingly well after the formalities. They’d shared a pleasant lunch, and the group had even managed to move in without much fuss. Felix had gone to bed optimistic about their future together. And he still was, Virgil’s surprise attack notwithstanding.

Too bad for Felix, his hopes for a peaceful morning were instantly dashed when he stepped into the kitchen.

The rich, smoky aroma of cooking salmon hit his nose. For a moment, it was almost comforting—until he saw the state of the kitchen. Sorath was at the stove, wearing loose sweat pants and a tank top, wielding a fork as he flipped a piece of fish in a pan. The counter was a battlefield of breadcrumbs, open jars, and stray slices of lemon.

“Sorath,” Felix started, his voice taking on an ominous edge, “what are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” Sorath said nonchalantly, glancing over his shoulder. He grinned. “Morning, boss. You hungry?”

“That’s not the point,” Felix replied, trying to keep his tone calm. “Why are you using a fork on a non-stick pan? And did you have to—” He gestured at the disaster zone that used to be his kitchen.

“Relax,” Sorath said, waving the fork dismissively. “I’ll clean it up later. Here, try this.” He plated a slice of toast topped with smoked salmon, cream cheese, and a sprinkle of herbs, sliding it across the counter to Felix.

Felix hesitated but took a bite. The flavors were perfectly balanced, the salmon tender and smoky. He blinked in surprise. “This is… actually good.”

“Of course it is,” Sorath said with a smirk. “I don’t half-ass things, even if I use a fork instead of a spatula.”

Before Felix could respond, Albrecht swept into the room, still dressed in that opulent silk robe, hair perfect and skin glowing—clearly his primping had been completed as well. He immediately made for the artisan coffee maker—that had not been there last time Felix checked.

“Good morning, everyone,” Albrecht announced importantly. He took one look at the kitchen and grimaced. “Felix, dearest, I meant to mention this yesterday, this kitchen is positively primitive. Have you considered upgrading? I know a designer who could transform this space into something worthy of your status.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose. “Good morning, Albrecht. And no, I haven’t considered that.”

“You should,” Albrecht said, taking a sip of his coffee. “As your pet, it’s my duty to ensure you’re surrounded by beauty and sophistication.”

“Thanks, but let’s focus on breakfast for now.”

Throughout this all, Thel sat at the dining table ignoring everything but the tablet in his hand. Already dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit despite the early hour, Thel sat with perfect posture, reading something on his tablet. He finally deigned to look up briefly when Felix approached.

“Good morning,” he said in a clipped tone. “I’ve prepared a schedule for the day.”

Felix rolled his eyes, taking a detour over. The itinerary was meticulously detailed, with color-coded sections for work, errands, and even “team-building activities.”

“Thel, this is… a lot,” Felix said, scanning the document.

“Structure is essential,” Thel replied, his tone cool. “Without it, chaos ensues. Case in point.” He gestured vaguely toward the kitchen, where Sorath was now tossing breadcrumbs at Virgil, who had just sauntered in.

Virgil, still in his teddy bear pajamas, looked entirely unfazed. He grabbed a piece of toast from Felix’s plate, plopped onto a nearby chair, and began scrolling through his phone. As if the morning episode earlier hadn’t happened at all.

“Virgil,” Felix said, his patience wearing thin, “that was my breakfast.”

“You should eat faster,” Virgil replied with a grin, not looking up.

Felix took a deep breath, reminding himself that throttling one’s pets was frowned upon, no matter how tempting.

Determined to restore order, Felix called everyone to the dining table. “All right, we need to talk about today’s plans.”

Sorath leaned against the counter, nibbling on a piece of salmon. “I vote for exploring the city. Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into.”

Felix frowned. “We’re not getting into trouble.”

“Then what’s the point?” Sorath said with a smirk.

Albrecht, already scrolling through his phone for luxury stores, chimed in. “I suggest a shopping trip. Our public appearances must reflect our status, and I, for one, refuse to be seen in anything less than perfection.”

Thel cleared his throat. “We should visit the Combat Division headquarters. As Felix’s future workplace, it’s essential for him to familiarize himself with the environment and expectations.”

Virgil finally looked up from his phone, grinning. “I’m good with whatever, as long as it’s not boring.”

The resulting argument was exactly what Felix had feared. Sorath and Virgil wanted adventure, Albrecht wanted refinement, and Thel insisted on practicality. That left Felix stuck with the role of mediator.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

In the end, Felix threw up his hands. “Fine. We’ll figure it out as we go. Just… try not to drive me insane.”

“Too late,” Virgil said cheerfully.

AN: You know how cats sometimes appear and just watch you while you sleep? Virgil is only doing what a pet does to their owner 😌