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I think that I want to stay forever young. I wonder if I keep smiling, luring them in with my childlike innocence, then perhaps they'll never want to leave. But judging by what I am I can already see the end results. Sometimes half and half do not make a whole. Instead they consume one another, canceling the other out until neither exists. I cannot have both my 'perfect' worlds: to stay oblivious—naïve—and to always stay with my family. Because if try to, both will crumble into pieces I could never salvage. I truly want to stay in the dark... But I want to stay with my family a million times more. Aside from the muffled so

 Peter managed to scrounge up an old pair of light tan doe skin breeches that clung comfortably to your legs and thighs. Peter said they were an old cast off of Tootles so they ended up fitting you quite well. They reminded you of the kind of pants that rich people wore when they went horse back riding. The only difference you were sure was that those kinds of pants weren’t actually made out of real deer skin. As much as you hated the thought of wearing Bambi for pants, you had to admit that the brush of the short fur trousers felt luxurious against your skin every time you moved. Peter had also tossed you a thin faded white linen shirt

  Antonio entered the house early, a sleeping Lovino resting in his arms and a luggage still waiting in the car. Climbing up the stairs, he approached your room, entering to see you asleep with a similar child in your arms.   Smiling, he lay the child down next to his brother and went to fetch his luggage back in the car. The silent house seemed so much more peaceful than he remembered it being.   Going back upstairs, he threw his shoes off and got into bed beside all of you and falling asleep for the time being. What felt like an instant later, he was being awoken by you. You had arose to see the Spaniard's peacefully sleepi

        An obnoxious buzzing erupts from seemingly nowhere, jolting me awake with a yelp. A heartbeat later I locate the source of the noise: a round clock sitting on the coffee table. With my fur standing on end, I flinch from the painful noise stabbing my ears. Bunching my haunches, I jump and pounce on the annoying contraption. Hissing at it, I rake my claws through the plastic shell. I sink my teeth into the top in my desperation to shut the loud thing off. Knocking it to the floor, the stupid clock refuses to go silent. My temple is now throbbing painfully, so I pounce on the clock from above. Growling, I wrestle with the device in a fre