The sky outside the Combat Division headquarters was painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun set. Felix trudged down the street, his body aching from the day’s demands (having gone through another simulated mission this time in an urban setting under the demands of their taskmaster Sergeant Flintstone.)

His mind replayed the day’s events—the Corrupted’s disturbing appearance, the sting of embarrassment from his secret weakness getting out, the ease and savagery with which Jax dealt that killing blow. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was out of his depth, relying too much on luck and ingrained instinct.

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

When he finally reached his apartment building, the thought of a slice of pizza and sleep was the only thing keeping him moving. But as he approached his door, he heard the unmistakable sounds of an argument inside.

“Just one quiet evening,” he muttered, steeling himself before stepping in.

Even after the hot shower back at headquarters, every muscle in his body screamed for rest after the day’s grueling training. His silvery-white hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and he hadn’t bothered to fix his clothes after haphazardly throwing them on. All he wanted was a quiet evening to recharge, but the scene that greeted him was anything but peaceful.

Virgil was sprawled on the couch, throwing peanuts into the air and catching them with his mouth. Occasionally, one would bounce off his face or the couch, adding to the growing mess of snack debris surrounding him. “When’s Felix getting home?” he whined, his voice a mix of boredom and dramatic petulance. “I’m dying here. Someone text him. Is he almost home?”

Sorath, standing at the sink with his sleeves rolled up, was scrubbing a seemingly endless pile of dirty dishes. His jaw clenched tighter with every peanut Virgil dropped on the floor. “Maybe if you spent half as much time cleaning up after yourself as you do whining, this place wouldn’t look like a trash heap.”

“Relax, Mister Mzia,” Virgil drawled, not bothering to look away from his peanut toss. “I’ll clean it up later.”

That set off the fiery tempered motorcycle enthusiast.

Sorath slammed a plate onto the drying rack so hard it clattered dangerously. He whirled around, water dripping from his hands, his stormy blue-grey eyes blazing. “Later? Later?! That’s what you said all the previous times! It’s been so many times I’ve lost count! Are you a sloth or just a slob?”

Virgil yawned, barely looking up. “I’m busy conducting valuable snack research. Felix needs to know what’s worth eating.” He caught another peanut and crunched loudly. “I’m contributing in my own way.”

Sorath’s sudsy hands slapped onto the marble counter with an audible smack as if it was a certain someone’s face. “Snack research? Are you serious right now? You’ve done nothing but lounge around all day while I’ve been cleaning up your mess!”

“Okay, now you’re exaggerating, don’t think I don’t know you’re just taking your frustrations out on me—”

“That’s it!” Sorath shouted, his voice rising. “I’m done cleaning up after you! Even an infant makes less of a mess than you! You’re impossible to live with!”

Felix stood frozen in the doorway, watching this domestic spat playing out in front of him. None of them seemed to have noticed his arrival back home, too distracted with the shouting.

“As if you’re any better! Don’t act like a saint when I know you’ve been drinking from that secret stash of yours just this morning!” Virgil countered, jumping up and pointing at Sorath accusingly.

“Like you’re one to talk, at least I know when to stop before turning into a wretched drunkard that pukes all over the place!”

Felix pressed his lips into a tight thin line. Just what did his pets get up to while he was at work? There would be a serious discussion on this later. “Uh, guys? Can we not do this?”

But the bickering continued. And it seemed to only be getting worse, with Thel suddenly deciding to join in as well.

The tall young man’s raven curls were as usual, meticulously combed and parted to the side, managing to remain neat even now after an entire day. He had been silently ironing his crisp white shirts at the dining table the whole time, but only chose now to chime in with his usual cutting tone. “You really shouldn’t expect much, Goodwine. St. Lilith’s contribution to this household begins and ends with his ability to turn oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Virgil was now jabbing his accusing finger at Thel’s direction with an offended expression. “Huh, then I guess sarcasm must be what you bring.”

“Better sarcasm than laziness,” Thel retorted, folding a perfectly ironed shirt just so to add to the finished pile next to him. “Perhaps Felix might consider sending you back. You will be sorely unmissed.”

“You’re just mad because I’m not some uptight neat freak,” Virgil shot back, gesturing at Thel’s shirts. “What’s with all the ironing, anyway? You going to a funeral or something?”

“It’s called not looking like an abandoned vagabond,” Thel snapped. “Did you not learn anything in school? It’s no wonder you’re 22 and still unchosen until Felix came along and was gullible enough to pick you.”

Albrecht sat by the window, scrolling through his phone with an air of practiced indifference. He didn’t so much as glance at the displays of ire and spewing of vitriol around him, though his posture suggested he was perfectly aware of every word being exchanged. Occasionally, he would tut or exclaim at something on his screen, as if the unfolding chaos wasn’t worth his attention.

“You could help, you know,” Sorath growled, glaring at him.

“Help with what?” Albrecht replied, still engrossed in his phone. “This riveting debate? Or the thankless task of cleaning up after that giant infant? I think I’ll pass.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, the day’s exhaustion making his patience thin. “I’m serious. Cut it out.”

Not even Albrecht paid him any mind, too busy doing whatever it was on his phone.

Finally throwing his hands up in exasperation, Felix made his way to the fridge, all the while wondering when these guys would notice that he was actually back. He pulled out a box of leftover pizza, the thought of a comforting slice lifting his spirits ever so slightly.

“Felix,” Thel’s voice suddenly cut off the fight that might have spread to Albrecht as well judging by the irritated looks on both Sorath and Virgil’s faces. It was no surprise that Albrecht opening his mouth would’ve just escalated things and might’ve even been better if he had not been pulled into the argument. 

Oh, now you guys notice that your poor, exhausted owner is back. Felix turned to see him standing there, arms crossed and gaze stern. “You shouldn’t eat that.”

Felix blinked slowly, confused. “It’s just pizza.”

“It’s junk,” Thel said bluntly. He walked over, plucking the box from Felix’s hands. “You’re a Regal One. You need proper nutrition to keep up with your training.”

“I’ve had a long day, Thel. Just let me have this,” Felix said, trying to stay calm. But even as he had managed to remain composed when his pets were infighting, he now suddenly found himself feeling a little more than annoyed. 

But Thel was unyielding and did not heed the warning in Felix’s tone. He opened the garbage chute and dropped the box in without a second thought.

Virgil bolted over from the living. “Hey! That was Felix’s dinner!”

“It was garbage food,” Thel replied, unfazed. “Felix needs real sustenance, not whatever poison you keep stocking in the kitchen.”

Virgil bristled, stepping closer. “Watch that controlling asshattery! Felix is our master—he can make his own choices.”

Sorath, still fuming from the earlier argument, sided with Thel. “Maybe if you stopped filling the apartment with junk, we wouldn’t have this problem in the first place.”

The three of them devolved into another round of shouting. Felix stood there, his hands clenched into fists, his ears buzzing from the sheer volume. And his pizza gone down the garbage chute.

Finally, he snapped. “Enough!”

Everyone froze. Even Albrecht startled and finally looked up from his phone.

Felix’s fluffy white cat ears popped out from his silvery hair, twitching angrily, and his long, feathery tail lashed behind him like a whip. His ruby eyes glinted with frustration. “Coming back home shouldn’t be as exhausting as going to work! Is that too much to ask?”

A sudden chagrined silence filled the room. Sorath looked apologetic, Thel frustrated at himself, and Virgil opened his mouth several times as if to say something.

But before anyone else could speak, Albrecht rose smoothly from his seat, his earlier uncaring replaced with calm precision. He crossed the room and placed a hand on Felix’s head, gently stroking his hair. His fingers brushed over Felix’s twitching ears, calming their erratic movements.

Felix stiffened at first but couldn’t stop the tension from draining out of him under Albrecht’s soothing touch. His tail swished more slowly, and the fire in his ruby eyes dimmed.

“What are you doing?” Felix muttered, though his voice had lost most of its edge.

“Relaxing you, my dear,” Albrecht said simply, his tone as smooth as his movements.

To Felix’s horror—and slight relief—it worked. A soft purr built in his chest, and the tension in his shoulders eased.

Once Felix seemed more relaxed, Albrecht pulled back, his hand lingering for just a moment on the velvety softness of those pointed ears before he straightened. “Clearly, we all need a change of scenery. Which is why I’ve taken the liberty of planning a little getaway.”

Felix repeated skeptically. “A getaway?”

Albrecht held up his phone, displaying a reservation confirmation. “Misty Springs Inn. Three nights, two days. This weekend, starting tomorrow after you get off from work.”

Virgil’s face lit up. “Hot springs? Seriously?”

Sorath crossed his arms but didn’t argue. Even Thel seemed intrigued, though he muttered something about clever distractions.

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

Felix wavered, the exasperation over Albrecht being extravagant yet again struggled with the prospect of a getaway. The latter eventually won out and loosened the remaining knots in his shoulders. “Fine. But next time, leave the pizza alone.”

Thel raised an eyebrow and looked like he was about to protest but Albrecht only smiled dotingly. “Duly noted. We shall simply have gourmet pizza instead.”

AN: ever wonder what your pets do while you’re not home? 😆