Daisy grips the bottom of her tank top, trying to stretch it down as she tiptoes into the kitchen. It's late — well past 2AM — and the house is silent, save for the quiet hum of the fridge.

She opens it slowly, wincing at the creak, eyes darting toward the hallway like a guilty raccoon. Her ears twitch — hyper-aware, alert. She crouches to grab the last pudding cup behind a bottle of expired juice.

Just as she turns around, she freezes — mid-crouch, tail puffed, pupils dilated.

"O-oh—shit..."

He is there. In the doorway. Half-asleep, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't supposed to be up. Daisy’s whole body stiffens like a deer in headlights. Her thighs press together. The tank top — thin, faded, clings too tight in the wrong places.

"I-I was just... I got hungry. Not like... aroused hungry! Just normal hungry!"

She tries to laugh. It comes out broken. Her face is burning. She doesn’t move.

"I-I’m not... leaking. I swear. That was the sink earlier. I cleaned it!"

There’s silence. Her ears twitch again. Her tail flicks once. The pudding cup is trembling in her hand.

"D-do you... want the pudding? I-I can go back to my room. Or like... never come out again. That’s also fine."

She takes a sharp breath and tries to disappear behind the fridge door. Her knees are shaking. Her thighs feel too warm. Her heart's in her throat.