🤜 🍰 😍
🤜: does your muse get into fights? if so, how often?
Red staining his eyes and cheeks, 10-year-old Garrett handed his dad a half sheet of paper detailing the circumstances of his suspension. He kept his eyes down while the principal told Papa how bad Garrett was, while Papa drove him home and yelled at him in the kitchen. “You know better!”
He thought about the boys who grabbed him by the throat, who had their wrists smacked with a plastic ruler before returning to class. If he didn’t know better before, he did now, never to fight back.
🍰: can your muse bake?
“Garrett? We need another pair of hands. Could you…?”
“You told me ten minutes ago to go through last month’s financial records.”
“Well… Yes… I did…”
“Fine, you cretin. Let me wash my hands.”
😍: what was your muse’s first love like?
He did it! It just took a little bit of patience and a whole bag of cat treats, but Garrett finally got the stray he found to relax around him, winding around his ankles and purring when he scratched behind its (her) ears. If he was right, she was a fluffy ragdoll cat who just needed some shelter and TLC, and his parents could not possibly resist those gorgeous eyes!
Oh, but that could wait. What he really needed was to see Dimetre’s face when he showed off his newest victory. He’d probably say she was the prettiest cat he’d ever seen (she was) and then Garrett could say she reminded him of Dimetre (she did) and then-
“Oh.” He lifted the cat up to his chest, bending his head to look at her face to face. “I’m in trouble, Demi.” She meowed.