Lara’s days had been long, daunting and slightly chaotic since Tom had started his new job. His alarm went off at 5:00 AM, Monday through Friday. It used to buzz, until Lara purchased an alarm clock with audio input, because the buzz made her go airborne, at least 2 feet, every morning. The improved alarm played whatever was on his playlist, generally Metallica, Five Finger Death Punch or Nirvana. Yes, those were definitely better than the previous buzzing.
Tom had a morning routine, some would call it a ritual, from which he rarely strayed. He somehow was able to accomplish it with the slightest bit of noise, because he told Lara once, “I’d rather you get your sleep.”
This particular morning was no different. Tom stumbled to the bathroom, closed the door, started the shower and got his work clothes from the closet. Once finished, he removed his boxers and stepped into the steaming, hot shower.
Like clockwork, Lara opened the door at the very moment he put is right foot onto the wet, tiled shower floor. “Mornin’ Sweetie.” She mumbled and kissed his cheek. She did her “thing” then stumbled back to the bedroom. She ensured to close the door behind her, because she knew how much Tom hated having cold air mix with the hot water.
Rather than returning to bed, Lara made coffee, toast and poured a glass of orange juice for Tom and put it on the table. When Tom finished in the bathroom, he opened the door and the aroma of fresh brewed coffee tickled his nose. A grin played upon his lips as he walked from the bedroom to the kitchen.
Tom sat in the chair and glanced at the spread on the table and sighed, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
When he looked up again, Lara was getting off the giant beanbag they had on the floor. It was her turn to grin, as his draw dropped and eyes widened at the sight of her.
“Ummm. Lara?”
Lara didn’t reply. She was on all fours, the perfect picture of a black cat. She wore a black body suit, white socks, white gloves, a “bobbed” tail, black cat ears headband and very long false eyelashes. The lashes accentuated the sultry way she blinked at him as she crawled to the table and purred when she nuzzled his shins.
Tom gasped. “Lara?”
She got on her padded knees and placed her paws on Tom’s thighs. He gasped again. She purred and waited for him to pet her, but when he didn’t, she nudged her head under one of his hands. As if he ran on his instincts, Tom pet her lovingly on the head, long, gentle strokes down her hair. With each stroke, Tom’s eyes returned to a normal state, and eventually they closed. Laura purred and kneaded his thighs, as Tom’s breathing slowed and he used both hands to stroke/pet her hair.
Slowly Tom opened his eyes and gazed into Lara’s. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”
Lara stopped kneading and got back on all fours. She purred and brushed against his shins. She gave him love, affection and caring simply with her actions and touches. Lara paused, looked at Tom’s body. His chest rose and fell slowly. His eyes reflected he love she was giving to him and they seemed to see nothing other than her. His long legs were no longer bent and taut, rather relaxed. His arms were limp in his lap. This was a calm she’d not seen from him in months, if not years.
Lara, once again, knelt and put her paws on his thighs. As he went to pet her, she kissed his hand, got down and crawled back to the beanbag. He watched her as she removed the ears, paws, knee pads and tail.
She turned to look at him and fell right into his arms. Had he not caught her, she would have hit the ceiling from jumping in fright.
“What _was_ that?”
“My way of removing your stress. I remembered how you said your cats always calmed you when you were younger, because they gave unconditional love.”
Tom pulled Lara to him tightly. He place his lips on hers and parted them with his tongue. Reluctantly he ended the kiss.
“Damn, woman, you are something else.”