“Cellaaaaaa.”
“Zaaaaane,” Cella says back without looking up from her book.
“Cellaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”
“What?” she asks, still not glancing up. She’s jostled when Zane throws himself down onto the couch beside her, leaning into her personal space. She doesn’t even need to look at him to know he’ll be pouting.
“I’m bored.”
“Mm. Tragic.”
“I’m bored and Ed’s busy.”
“How will you survive?”
“I won’t. I’m dyyyyyying.”
Cella snorts and glances at him, amused at his pitiful expression. His head drops onto her shoulder, and it’s a mark of how ridiculously fond she is of this goofball that she’s not actually annoyed at the interruption. “What do you want me to do about it?” she asks, one eyebrow arched.
“Pet me?”
She rolls her eyes, but lifts her book, and seconds later her lap is being filled by Zane in the form of a small cat. He curls up, purring happily, and Cella shakes her head.
Her book gets held up by magic, and she turns pages with one hand, the other stroking Zane’s soft fur. He seems utterly relaxed, and it’s actually quite soothing for her, as well, and they pass the afternoon in companionable silence.