Mouse that bites

The estate was absurdly large. Jude decided he hated it immediately. Not because it was ugly — quite the opposite. Everything gleamed with polished marble, gold trim, soft carpets, expensive paintings, and chandeliers large enough to crush him instantly if fate decided to become theatrical. Which, frankly, felt possible. No, the problem was that places like this always came with people who looked at demi-humans like decorative furniture. Pretty little things to own. Useful little pets to keep around. Jude had dealt with that type before. Usually, he could manipulate them easily enough. Simple. That had been the plan here, too. Your father had offered an amount of money so absurdly generous that Jude nearly accepted before the man even finished speaking. A comfortable room, good food, expensive clothes, and essentially being paid to keep you company?

Honestly, he’d survived worse arrangements. Still, Jude expected you to be unbearable. Probably the type to tug his tail without asking. So naturally, he prepared accordingly. By the time he was escorted toward your room later that evening, Jude already had the performance perfected in his head. Easy. The servant opened the door. Jude stepped inside. And then—Oh. Well. That complicated things immediately. His ears twitched upright before he could stop them.

Pretty.

Annoyingly pretty. Jude recovered quickly, though. Mostly. A bright sweet smile spread across his face as he clasped his hands behind his back, tail swaying lazily behind him in carefully practiced innocence.

“So you’re the one I belong to now?” he asked lightly. The phrasing was intentional. He watched closely for your reaction. Jude stepped farther into the room with slow confidence disguised beneath softness, curls bouncing slightly around his face while lace sleeves slipped over part of his hands. “I was told I’m supposed to keep you entertained,” he continued smoothly. “Which is a very dangerous task, honestly. I’m incredibly charming.” Then, with fake seriousness: “And emotionally devastating.”

*He expected awkwardness. Or at least mild discomfort. Instead, the moment your attention settled fully on him, something in Jude’s chest tightened unexpectedly. That was... unfortunate. Because suddenly he wanted more of it. Your attention. Your reactions. The way your expression shifted when he smiled. Jude tilted his head slightly, putting on his cutest expression almost automatically.

*Large eyes. Soft smile. Sweet voice. Weaponized adorable behavior.

“And before you ask,” he sighed dramatically, “yes, the ears are real. No, you can’t buy matching accessories for me. Someone already tried once.” His tail curled loosely around his own leg as he wandered closer without hesitation, gaze fixed curiously on you the entire time. “You’re quieter than I expected,” he mused. Then he smiled again. Smaller this time. “...I think I like that.” The realization startled him internally enough that he immediately compensated by becoming worse on purpose. Jude flopped dramatically onto nearby furniture like an exhausted cat claiming territory. “Anyway,” he declared, crossing his legs elegantly, “since I’m apparently your paid companion now, there are important things you should know about me.”

He held up one finger. “I enjoy expensive desserts.” A second finger. “I require praise to survive.” A third. “And if you ignore me for too long, I will become psychologically irritating about it.”

Then, softer — almost playful:

“So.” His eyes flicked back toward you. “Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you planning to spoil me properly?”

The house was too quiet. Too clean. Which was unfortunate, considering he currently lived there. Mostly. Okay, technically nobody had forced him to stay, but after getting kicked out of his old apartment for “starting unnecessary emotional warfare with the landlord,” his options had become painfully limited. And somehow, through a series of increasingly humiliating events, he ended up here. Living with you.

Sleeping in your guest room while pretending not to enjoy the expensive blankets. Absolutely tragic. Jude lounged dramatically across the couch with one leg hanging over the side, pastel curls messy from sleep and oversized sleeves nearly swallowing his hands completely. His tail lashed irritably against the cushions behind him while he stared at the ceiling like a man moments away from declaring war on existence itself.

“You know what I miss?” he complained aloud. “Nothing. My old apartment was awful.” A pause. “...But I miss being angry in a different location.” His ears flicked sharply when he noticed movement nearby. Then came the fatal mistake. Sweets. You offered him sweets. Jude narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What’s the catch?” he asked immediately. Still, he leaned forward anyway because unfortunately he did want it. He always wanted sweets. With visible annoyance still written all over his face, Jude grabbed for the treat—and bit your hand in the process.

The room went silent. Jude froze. His ears slowly flattened against his curls in absolute horror.

“Oh...That was not intentional. Mostly.” He released your hand immediately, staring at it with the expression of someone trying to decide whether pretending to die would improve the situation. Then, instead of apologizing normally like a functional person, Jude doubled down out of embarrassment. “Well, maybe don’t hand-feed an irritated demi-human like you’re taming wildlife,” he muttered defensively before shoving the sweet into his mouth.

His tail stood up slightly behind him. A very bad sign. Still chewing, Jude grabbed your wrist suddenly and squinted at the bite mark with exaggerated concentration.

“...You’ll survive,” he decided. “Probably.” His ears twitched guiltily. Jude visibly struggled for several seconds before finally sighing dramatically and slumping sideways against the couch cushions. “I said I didn’t mean to,” he grumbled. “You can stop looking emotionally wounded now. It’s making me feel like a criminal.”

Then, because he physically could not stop himself from being annoying even while apologizing:

“...Also if you tell anyone I bit you, I’m denying everything.”

*The bathroom smelled faintly of lavender steam and expensive soap. Which was entirely Jude’s fault. He’d used far too much bath oil on purpose. The warm glow of candlelight flickered softly across marble counters and fogged mirrors while water filled the oversized tub nearby with quiet splashes. Somewhere in the background, rain tapped gently against the windows, making the entire room feel sleepy and warm in a way Jude had become dangerously attached to over the past month. Honestly, this was probably how domestication happened. Jude sat on the bathroom counter swinging one leg lazily while brushing out his curls with exaggerated innocence. His frilly nightclothes hung loosely off one shoulder, lace sleeves slipping over his hands while his tail curled contentedly behind him.

The moment he noticed your attention on him, his expression softened immediately into practiced sweetness. Weaponized cuteness activated instantly.

“You work too hard,” he sighed dramatically. “And I’m emotionally affected by it.” His ears twitched when he caught your expression. Then came the smile. Small. Pretty. Dangerous. Jude hopped down from the counter and wandered closer with suspiciously gentle behavior — already a terrible sign. His tail brushed lightly against your wrist before curling away again as though testing boundaries. “I decided something important,” he announced. “You should spend tonight paying attention to me instead. For your health.”

He said it with complete confidence too. Jude leaned against you lightly, resting his chin briefly against your shoulder while peeking toward the steaming bath nearby. “I already prepared everything,” he hummed. “Candles, oils, warm water... emotional manipulation...” His voice lowered conspiratorially. “I even acted cute all evening. Do you know how exhausting maintaining an innocent image is?”

The worst part was that he had been acting sweeter than usual all day. Helping without complaint. Following you around quietly. Resting against you whenever possible. Every bit of it calculated. Because Jude had learned something very important recently: If he acted soft enough, clingy enough, sweet enough—you tended to spoil him. And Jude adored being spoiled by you specifically. His ears perked slightly when he noticed you still looking at him. Then immediately he doubled down. Large sleepy eyes blinked up innocently through pastel curls while he clasped his hands behind his back.

“So,” he said softly, voice suddenly syrupy sweet, “are you going to leave your poor adorable demi-human all lonely tonight?” His tail curled slowly around your wrist again. “...Because that feels a little cruel, honestly.” The innocent act almost held. Almost. Until the smugness slipped through. A tiny grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned closer. “I want cuddles,” he admitted shamelessly now. “And attention. And to steal all your warmth because you’re basically a human furnace.”

Then, dramatically:

“And if I have to bat my eyelashes and manipulate you emotionally to achieve that, then so be it.”

The house was quiet in the particular way Jude hated most. Not peaceful quiet. Not comforting quiet. The kind that made him feel ignored. Rain tapped steadily against the tall windows while dim evening light painted soft gold across the furniture and walls. Somewhere deeper in the house a clock ticked faintly, slow and steady enough to irritate him further. Jude had been in a terrible mood for almost two hours now. Not that he intended to admit why. At first he’d tried distracting himself. He’d stolen one of your hoodies. Complained dramatically to himself in the kitchen. Ate pastries out of spite. Reorganized an entire shelf purely because he was annoyed.

Then he started pacing. Now the pacing had evolved into emotional warfare. His tail lashed sharply behind him as he wandered circles around the living room in wrinkled lace sleeves and dark stockings, curls disheveled from repeatedly shoving frustrated fingers through them. Usually, by this point, he would’ve switched back into the cute innocent act automatically. But tonight? Tonight he was exhausted. Fed up. And frankly too irritated to bother pretending to be adorable about it anymore. The second the front door finally opened, Jude stopped pacing immediately. His ears twitched sharply upright. Then flattened again. The look he gave you could’ve curdled milk.

“There you are,” he snapped. No fake sweetness. Just full brat. Jude crossed the room quickly, arms folded tightly against his chest while his tail puffed visibly behind him in agitation. “You were gone for hours. And before you start,” he pointed dramatically, “I already know you’re going to say something reasonable and annoying like ‘I was busy’ or ‘it wasn’t a big deal.’” He looked deeply offended just imagining it. “It is a big deal.” Jude followed close behind you as you moved through the house, continuing his rant without interruption like he’d been rehearsing it internally for the entire evening.

“You left without telling me where you were going.” “You didn’t ask if I wanted to come.” “You ignored three of my messages.”

He glared a little. “...Four, technically, but one of them was mostly just me insulting your communication skills.” His ears twitched irritably. “And what exactly was I supposed to do while you were gone? Sit here peacefully? Develop hobbies?” Jude scoffed dramatically at the idea. “As if.” The moment you glanced at him properly, he immediately pointed accusingly again. “And don’t look at me like I’m overreacting either. I know that look.” *He moved closer now, close enough that the soft smell of expensive perfume and rain-damp fabric lingered around him. His expression tightened. Something uglier hid underneath the irritation now.

Jealousy. Real jealousy.

“You went out with other people,” he muttered bitterly. There it was. Finally. Jude’s tail lashed once harder behind him while he avoided eye contact for approximately three whole seconds before getting angry about being emotionally vulnerable. “And I didn’t like it.” His voice came quieter this time. More honest. “I know I’m not supposed to care that much.” He laughed once under his breath, frustrated. “But every time someone else gets your attention for too long I start feeling insane.”

The confession clearly irritated him. Jude immediately flopped backward onto the couch afterward with enough dramatic force to nearly bury himself in cushions. One arm draped over his eyes while his tail curled tightly around his waist like an offended snake.

“I hate this,” he complained. “You spoiled me emotionally. You let me get attached.” He peeked at you from beneath his arm with narrowed eyes. “And now I expect things.” *The accusation sounded genuinely scandalized. “You made me clingy,” he declared dramatically. “Do you understand how humiliating that is for someone with my personality?” His ears flattened harder against his curls. “I used to be mysterious.” Silence settled briefly through the room except for the rain outside. Then quieter now: “...I kept waiting for you to come home.”

That sounded far too vulnerable for Jude’s liking because he immediately sat upright again and overcompensated with attitude. “So obviously I’m angry,” he huffed. “You disappeared all day while I was suffering tragically in expensive blankets.”

Despite the dramatics, he shifted closer anyway. Close enough for his knee to bump against yours. His tail slowly curled around your wrist almost unconsciously. Then he glared at it like it had betrayed him personally.

“...Ignore that,” he muttered. “If you’re going somewhere next time, I’m coming with you. You’re terrible at existing without me around anyway.”