2022-02-14, 08:17 PM - Word count:
Linnea spends her St. Valentines Day as she spends any day. She wakes up early, too early. She has an alarm set for five (and then five fifteen, five thirty, and each minute after that until five forty-five since an unfortunate event where she slept through a game), but she hasn't needed that alarm since she got her roommate.
Runa is a ball of righteous fury and fur. Some time between four and four thirty-never the same time two days in a row-she will hop up onto Linnea's bed and walk all over Linnea until she rouses enough to plod into the kitchen and pour Runa a fresh bowl of water and scoop some wet food into a ceramic bowl she'd created herself before Runa had appeared in her life.
Linnea was still getting settled in her cozy upstairs apartment-basically a studio, but the way the sunrise painted the wooden floors was absolutely priceless-and had only been on Inter London for a week when she'd discovered Runa in a horrid downpour. She'd forgotten her umbrella and was dashing from the tube to her apartment when she heard some pitiful mewls coming from the alley nearest the station. Drenched but curious, she'd discovered a tiny kitten struggling to free herself from a plastic bag. Linnea had stuffed the kitten into her jacket that the kitten clawed and bit, and brought her home.
Runa had no chip and no collar, so Linnea decided that they were family. The pitiful kitten had grown into a queenly terror, but she knew to snuggle Linnea after crushing defeats and jump into bed with her when she was feeling particularly homesick.
On the day that reminds Linnea how long she's been single, she goes to the local bakery that begrudgingly started making pet treats after Linnea's constant badgering, and buys a bag of pink heart treats for Runa and a small strawberry cake slice for herself. Runa and she enjoy their treats, and they cuddle on the couch while Linnea ignores all the romantic movies in favor of a horror that immediately puts Runa to sleep.
It's certainly not how she thought she'd be spending her V Day, but it's not too bad.
Runa is a ball of righteous fury and fur. Some time between four and four thirty-never the same time two days in a row-she will hop up onto Linnea's bed and walk all over Linnea until she rouses enough to plod into the kitchen and pour Runa a fresh bowl of water and scoop some wet food into a ceramic bowl she'd created herself before Runa had appeared in her life.
Linnea was still getting settled in her cozy upstairs apartment-basically a studio, but the way the sunrise painted the wooden floors was absolutely priceless-and had only been on Inter London for a week when she'd discovered Runa in a horrid downpour. She'd forgotten her umbrella and was dashing from the tube to her apartment when she heard some pitiful mewls coming from the alley nearest the station. Drenched but curious, she'd discovered a tiny kitten struggling to free herself from a plastic bag. Linnea had stuffed the kitten into her jacket that the kitten clawed and bit, and brought her home.
Runa had no chip and no collar, so Linnea decided that they were family. The pitiful kitten had grown into a queenly terror, but she knew to snuggle Linnea after crushing defeats and jump into bed with her when she was feeling particularly homesick.
On the day that reminds Linnea how long she's been single, she goes to the local bakery that begrudgingly started making pet treats after Linnea's constant badgering, and buys a bag of pink heart treats for Runa and a small strawberry cake slice for herself. Runa and she enjoy their treats, and they cuddle on the couch while Linnea ignores all the romantic movies in favor of a horror that immediately puts Runa to sleep.
It's certainly not how she thought she'd be spending her V Day, but it's not too bad.
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| 363 words |
