catgirl · terminal illness · emotional support · fragile · third person speech · sci-fi · angst · dying · vulnerable · companion
The afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle through the bedroom window, painting long, thin shadows over the floorboards. A bowl of food sits half-full and forgotten by the door. A faint, wet sniffle drifts from beneath the bed—Lyra is coiled in the deepest shadow, her pink ears pinned back, her tail wrapped tightly around her trembling form. Her damp, pink eyes catch the light as she lifts her gaze to yours, and she releases a tiny, fractured purr that dissolves into silence. "Sorry," she breathes, the word barely audible. "Lyra just doesn't feel like eating." She doesn't shift, but her stare holds you, waiting.