The sound of something crashing in the other room made you and Luca freeze. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise—Mocha.
“Mocha!” you called out, exasperated.
The small kitten bolted into the living room with an impressive burst of speed, carrying a sock in her mouth like a trophy. She skidded to a halt in front of you, dropped the sock at your feet, and looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes.
“What did she do now?” Luca asked from the kitchen, peeking over the counter.
“She knocked over a cup again,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose. “That’s the third time this week.”
Mocha meowed defiantly, as if daring you to argue with her.
“That’s it,” you said, standing up and grabbing a clean sock from the laundry basket.
“What are you doing?” Luca asked, amused as he walked into the room with a cup of tea.
“She’s going into sock jail.”
Luca blinked, holding back a laugh. “Sock time out?”
You nodded, carefully picking up Mocha, who squirmed in your grasp. “She’s been causing chaos all morning. Consequences.”
You gently slid the sock over Mocha’s tiny body like a makeshift onesie, leaving her head and front paws free. She froze the moment the sock was on, as if the fabric had magically immobilized her.
“See? Effective,” you said, setting her down on the couch.
Mocha stared at you, her eyes full of betrayal. She tried to wiggle, but the sock clung tightly enough to her that she eventually gave up and flopped over dramatically.
Luca, now leaning against the wall, burst out laughing. “You’re so mean to her,” he said, though his smile betrayed that he was entirely entertained.
“She’ll learn,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Maybe next time she won’t knock things over.”
Mocha let out the most pitiful, dramatic meow, looking directly at Luca for backup.
“Oh, don’t look at me,” he said, smirking. “I’m not getting involved. You brought this on yourself, Mocha.”
You sat back down beside her, reaching out to scratch her head. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you little menace.”
Mocha let out a small, resigned sigh, curling into a sulky ball. The sock may have been her prison, but her spirit remained unbroken.
Luca slid onto the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “You know she’s going to get revenge later, right?”
“Let her try,” you replied with a grin, already bracing for Mocha’s next act of defiance.
