Defend — I’ll write a drabble of my character protecting yours. For Ren
Roka sighed, leaning heavily on the edge of Ren’s desk. Claws played over the metal surface of battered tin, before she gently set it front and center, atop a small mess of what she assumed was terribly important paperwork he had procrastinated. She could relate to that. Bemused, the little catte fussed at the tin, never quite satisfied with where she set it, or how it was turned.
Inside were assorted macarons. Half of which were tiramisu. The rest were a variety. None given anything but the utmost care in craft.
She was certainly procrastinating. Stalling for time as she stood there in the otherwise empty office.
Twelve she missed the closeness they had.
This was better though. This was smarter.
Narrow shoulders slumped, and she retrieved the other part of her offering from the depths of her travelling cloak. A new bottle of Proud Creek Reserve settled beside the battered tin, and Roka nodded to herself. Fingers pressed to her lips, carrying an unspoken apology to the top of the bottle before she slunk out of the room.
Distance was best, she could protect Ren this way. He didn’t need to see what she’d become, or worry for her. She could make appearances, leave him gifts and pass him tins of sweets, offer up smiles from arm’s length or a passing nudge of her head in parting. She could do all that and still keep herself away from where he might learn anything.
She could protect him that way, even if she was too selfish to drive herself full and well gone.














