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— So, Mia, did you manage to make the chicken broth? — Lauren’s voice sounded weary, but even through her cough, a restrained smirk slipped through.
"Mia" silently stared at her own reflection in that ridiculous costume. The white dress Lauren had forced "her" to wear to play the part of a nurse today clung tightly to her new, oversized chest, which practically jutted out, her nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric. It was nearly impossible to hide the mix of embarrassment and anger she felt, which, of course, Lauren was relishing. Charlie’s betrayal of his—now certainly ex-girlfriend—who turned out to be a witch, had cost him dearly.
— Hey, who am I talking to here? — Lauren propped herself up slightly from the bed, frowning.
— What, can’t you get up and make your own broth? — Charlie muttered, casting an angry glance at Lauren. — I’ve done enough already, — he continued, referring to the silly costume and all the chores he’d done that day. Crossing his arms over his chest, he scowled as his soft, large chest compressed under his small arms. Flashing his eyes at her, he added, — And stop calling me "Mia." You know damn well who I really am.
Lauren shook her head with a smile, like she was looking at a stubborn child, not an outraged “kitty-maid.”
— Oh, Mia, — she said with exaggerated tenderness, though there was an edge of warning in her tone, as if she were scolding him. — I think you’re a bit confused. Charlie? I don’t know any Charlie. But Mia, my sweet little kitty maid — she’s standing right in front of me.
Charlie gritted his teeth, barely holding back from lashing out. He wanted to fire back at Lauren with a few choice words, but her calm gaze and visibly tired face made him roll his eyes and bite his tongue.
— Well? Where’s my broth, Mia? — Lauren sank back onto her pillows, pulling her legs up under the covers, her body shivering slightly from fever. — And where’s my affectionate kitty? Where did she go? Here, kitty, kitty, kitty, — she cooed softly.
Charlie flinched at the humiliating "here, kitty, kitty" and clenched his fists, knowing exactly what she meant. Under his breath, he whispered, barely audible,
— I’m not going to meow…
— You’re not going to meow? — Lauren’s lips pursed, her face forming a sad expression, as if she was on the verge of tears. She placed a hand over her heart, putting on a childlike look of innocence before suddenly snapping her fingers.
In the next instant, Charlie felt his throat tighten as if something had seized his vocal cords. He opened his mouth to swear, but instead of words, a soft, pathetic "meow" slipped out.
Charlie shut his mouth, his face flushed bright red. He tried again, but all that came out was another, slightly louder, "meow."
— Meow! Meow! — it echoed out of him again, as if he were no more than an annoying house cat.
Lauren burst into laughter, sinking her head back onto the pillow.
— Ah, Mia, you’re just adorable, — she chuckled, her tired face breaking into a smile. Charlie, feeling the heat of humiliation spread across his face, barely held back the urge to throw something at Lauren. This was beyond infuriating. He gritted his teeth and raised a hand, glaring at Lauren as she prepared to snap her fingers again. But just as he was about to do something, he felt an invisible force stopping him. Then came another miserable “meow,” interrupting the sound of her double snap.
Behind him, something suddenly appeared and twitched. Charlie froze, feeling something soft and furry slowly extend out from beneath the dress, trailing down his back. He whipped his head around, and what he feared most was now there — a tail. A real, twitching cat tail, now a part of his new body, moving seemingly on its own whenever he felt a flash of anger or fear.
— Oh, how precious! — Lauren laughed, watching her ex-boyfriend stare in shock at his new “accessory.” — Mia, it suits you! Now you can’t deny you’re a kitty.