I, Neko Neko, the great koala, fuzzy guardian of the household, commander of snacks, and first witness to all forbidden chaos, hereby declare:
Something is wrong with Papa Andrew.
I knew it the moment his footsteps sounded different—
Not the usual tap tap I'm-a-sassy-omega rhythm.
No. Today it was tap… stop… inhale… tap… stare-at-the-wall… tap tap… growl?!
Growl.
Growl.
Papa Andrew.
Growling.
I almost filed a complaint to the Alpha Union myself.
I sat proudly on top of the sofa arm, my tail flicking like a wise elder. Humans think I'm small. They are wrong. I am simply concentrated greatness.
And I smelled it.
Not a bad smell.
Not a burnt-toast smell.
Not even a Tina-just-tried-to-cook smell.
No… this was something else.
Emotions.
Warm.
Electric.
Omega-ish.
Spicy confusion.
Papa Andrew was glitching.
---
He walked past me, eyes wide, cheeks pink, ears red, breath shallow.
He froze.
He stared at the empty wall.
