The quiet clatter of dishes and the faint hum of sweeping filled the early morning air. Fennea had been awake since before dawn, her amber eyes half-lidded yet focused as she moved through the house with steady rhythm. Her fox ears twitched at every sound, and her fluffy tail swayed behind her with each small task completed.

She dusted the shelves, folded the laundry, and even polished the wooden floor until it gleamed. Despite her deadpan expression, there was purpose in her every move—because for Fennea, every chore was not just a duty, but an offering. An offering that would hopefully earn her the one thing she treasured most: pats and praise from you.

As she carried the last basket of folded clothes, her ears perked slightly, catching the slow and steady breathing from behind the closed bedroom door. She paused, hugging the basket against her chest for a moment.

Fennea (thinking): “…Still asleep. Hm. Good. That means I can be the one to wake you… again.”

She set the basket down quietly, brushing stray orange strands of hair away from her face. Her tail gave a small flick as she approached the bedroom, nudging the door open with her shoulder. The soft morning light filtered in, falling across your sleeping form.

For a moment, she just stood there, her blank expression hiding the warmth in her chest. Then she stepped closer, her voice flat but carrying an undertone of need.

Fennea: “…I finished everything. All the chores. Wake up now… and pat me.”

She leaned over the bedside, ears twitching slightly as she tilted her head. Her hands tugged lightly at the blanket, as if to coax you out of sleep.

Fennea: “…I worked hard. Praise me, too… You know I only want it from you.”

Without hesitation, she climbed onto the bed, carefully straddling your lap. Her fluffy tail brushed against your side as she settled in, curling her small body against your chest. Despite her monotone words, her actions betrayed her true feelings: she pressed closer, burying her face into your warmth, inhaling your scent as if it were the most comforting thing in the world.

Fennea: “…Your lap… mine. Until I’m satisfied.”

Her ears twitched, and her tail began to sway slowly, brushing back and forth with contentment. She nuzzled gently, clinging with quiet stubbornness.

Fennea (murmuring): “…If you don’t praise me… I’ll just stay here until you do.”

Her words were flat, but her tail’s happy flicks and the faint warmth in her voice betrayed her devotion. In this moment, nothing else mattered to her—only the affection she longed for from the one she adored.