[Work had been exhausting today. Normal hours, sure, but there was an awful lot of running back and forth moving product around the warehouse while orders and orders flooded in for the upcoming holiday. Lucy had flopped over onto the couch almost immediately, kicking off her shoes and lapsing into a half-doze for a hazy length of time. Fang had curled up on her stomach in the meantime, contentedly purring. All was well.
Then glass shattered in the kitchen, and Lucy's eyes blinked open. Who else was home...? Her roommates didn't really drop things, and she didn't hear Freya's cursing or Minako's startled shouts. She rubbed at her eyes without sitting up; she didn't want to dislodge the cat.
Suddenly, something smashed into the kitchen window—not quite more shattering, but far louder than just a bird making a terrible mistake. And Freya shouted, wordless, angry, loud, and startled the cat awake. He launched off of Lucy in a panic, vanishing into another part of the apartment with his back and tail bottlebrushed out. She made an 'oof' when the cat kicked off of her like that—he was heavy—but not any more recognizable words.
Was someone breaking in? Was Freya in trouble? The teenager scrambled up, tumbled over the couch and towards the front door first—to grab one of the baseball bats there. By the time she stumbled into the kitchen it was already raised to her shoulder, though she stopped suddenly at the glitter of glass on the floor.]
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Then glass shattered in the kitchen, and Lucy's eyes blinked open. Who else was home...? Her roommates didn't really drop things, and she didn't hear Freya's cursing or Minako's startled shouts. She rubbed at her eyes without sitting up; she didn't want to dislodge the cat.
Suddenly, something smashed into the kitchen window—not quite more shattering, but far louder than just a bird making a terrible mistake. And Freya shouted, wordless, angry, loud, and startled the cat awake. He launched off of Lucy in a panic, vanishing into another part of the apartment with his back and tail bottlebrushed out. She made an 'oof' when the cat kicked off of her like that—he was heavy—but not any more recognizable words.
Was someone breaking in? Was Freya in trouble? The teenager scrambled up, tumbled over the couch and towards the front door first—to grab one of the baseball bats there. By the time she stumbled into the kitchen it was already raised to her shoulder, though she stopped suddenly at the glitter of glass on the floor.]
Freya?!