Mistress leaves and I hesitate before walking back in the house and sitting at Master's feet, still human. He cradles Little Masters and nods at Mistress as she heads upstairs.
"I'll be up in a little," He says, "I'm going to put the babies to bed."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I nod, still walking up the stairs. When I get to our room, I change into shorts and a tank top and climb into bed, pulling the covers over me, closing my eyes.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
Master sets the Little Masters in their crib and stands over them for a little. I scan over the room, stopping myself from growling at Dark Girl, and find Young Master half asleep on one of the other couches. Mischievously, I shift back and stalk over to the couch. I pounce and startle him, nipping his arm playfully.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I hear thunder outside and swallow, trying to fall asleep quickly before the lightning comes. I hear lightning and curse, throwing a pillow over my face.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
Master heads upstairs, ruffling the fur on the top of my head goodnight, and after a few minutes of playing with Young Master I decide to follow. Curious, I trot in the room behind him and dive under the blanket, tunneling my way to the top and finding Mistress.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights