The pair stayed there on the bed for a good amount of time. Hazel's tears dried quickly, and Rene Descartes was moved to her lap again, but he could still smell the scent of her despair, rolling off of his keeper in waves.
She is attempting to appear strong, Rene Descartes noticed. I do not understand why; there is no one here, human or otherwise, to observe her actions save myself.
Perhaps...she is only trying to convince herself.
His thoughts were cut off when Hazel straightened, moving her paw from his back to the silver cylinder she relied on. "We should apologize to Mom and Dad, Des." she said, lifting herself from the comfort of her bed. "They only want everything to be as normal for me as possible."
Rene Descartes jumped down to the floor, watching his keeper intently as she moved toward her door. "They are very kind humans, it is true. I have never had food as delectable as theirs."
It took a some time, but eventually Hazel reached the kitchen, where Mom and Dad were still sitting at the table. They were whispering to each other in a hushed tone, Mom looking especially dejected.
"Hello?" Rene Descartes mewled, shifting his weight from paw to paw.
The two humans looked up. "Oh, Hazel. I...didn't notice you there," Mom said quietly. "We saved your breakfast for you."
"About that," Hazel started, rubbing one foreleg with the other's paw. "I want to apologize for breakfast. I was just upset. I know you two are trying your hardest to stay positive, and I'm really not helping, so...sorry."
Dad nodded. "Apology accepted, Hazel. Hey, what do you say you and I watch some of your America's Next Top Model? Your mother has an online class she needs to take in a few minutes, so we should stay out of her hair."
Were you ever in her hair? That does seem rather difficult.
"Sounds great," Hazel replied with a smile. "Des needs to learn the names of all the models. Don't you, Des?"
The last few words were directed at Rene Descartes, who answered with a purr, "Whatever a model may be, I am delighted to learn as always, Hazel." Once again, he was scooped up in Hazel's paw and carted to the living room (Do they not live in any of the other rooms? Why only this one for living?). She and Dad sat down together on the couch, Rene Descartes curling up in his keepers lap.
Despite his answer, the kitten fell asleep quickly. His dreams were filled of moldy scents and scrambled eggs.
Weeks passed uneventfully, but as Rene Descartes grew more sure of his body, Hazel was losing control of hers. In the beginning, she spoke to him almost incessantly. The kitten's mind was full of new and elegant words, mysteries now filled with meaning. Every day entailed a new lesson, more and more knowledge shaping and defining his world. Those days were ending, slowly but surely.
There were some days when Hazel would never leave the confines of he room. More rarely, her bed. She began to talk to her kitten less and less, and Rene Descartes' food and water was only refilled every few days. He did not starve, however; Hazel's meals were brought by Mom or Dad up to her room, and the kitten's keeper ate only very little. Hazel knew she couldn't change Rene Descartes' food supply, so she left for him whatever she didn't eat. The kitten knew he should have been enjoying the change in menu, but he also realized what was happening.
And it chilled him to his core.
His keeper was slipping away, bit by bit.