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“Honey, you really shouldn’t be in here.”
The ounce of light that makes its way through the door is just enough to illuminate the tabby’s still figure sitting in the chair in front of her former employee’s desk. Rocky twists his body to look at her, remaining seated as he offers what he hopes is a welcoming smile.
“Oh. Hi, Miss M.” But the grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The bags under them hadn’t been there before. Mitzi took note of this before walking into the office and quietly closing the door behind her.
She rests her hand on the chair beside him. “May I?”
Her sudden presence beside him startles the tabby. It seemed like the sleepless nights had not only taken a toll on his body, but on his senses as well.
‘You are indeed a May.’ It’s a dumb joke he doesn’t have the energy to relay. The moment has passed, and it doesn't even bring a feign smile to his face.
He’s still not sure what might be causing the lack of sleep. Could it be the change in scenery? The heartache? Or maybe the fact that Aunt Nina’s couches weren’t as comfortable as Mordecai’s bed had been?
Mitzi sat quietly beside him, his hands on her lap. He can feel her eyes trained on him.
She sighed softly, glancing around the dark, cold room. “Look at us. Just two sad cats in mourning.”
Rocky was quick to shake his head.
“It’s not the same, Ms. M. You’ve much more reason to grieve.”
His partner abandoning him, and her husband’s murder were two incomparably different unfortunate events.
Although finding his things outside of Mordecai’s apartment wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight to…
Well, not really ‘ come home to ’, he supposed.
Mitzi nodded, deciding to voice her opinion after realizing the tabby’s eyes were solely focused on the chair Mordecai once occupied.
“I most certainly do, don’t I?”
She sighed again, turning to look at him gravely.
“Which is why I don’t think you shouldn’t be sittin’ here moping about some boy, honey.”
The shift in the tone of her voice broke Rocky’s solemn gaze, his eyes pulling away from the cushioned chair on the other side of the desk. He can still recall the times he'd sat there, watching as Mordecai moved around his office, pacing around while he muttered words and numbers alike. Rocky was far too preoccupied to make out what he was saying, instead focused on the scrunched wrinkles his face formed in concentration. His hair, while usually tamed, became ruffled as he’d continuedly run his hands through it.
They hadn't always been so domestic. In fact, Mordecai disliked him the second he showed up at the Little Daisy Cafe. He'd glare daggers into his soul for minutes on end, day after day. Rocky would sometimes find it troubling to concentrate on his instrument, hoping not to play the wrong chord in front of the relatively large crowd in the speakeasy.
But Rocky prided himself in managing to break through even the most deeply reserved persons with his highly extroverted personality.
He'd done more than just break through him. In return, Mordecai had somehow managed to charm him in the process.
One night, after a relatively steamy necking session in the tuxedo’s apartment, Rocky hypothetically asked if they should run away and leave the crime life behind. The claw drawing circles on his hip came to a stop as the mood immediately shifted, Mordecai remaining silent for a few seconds before sighing softly.
“I’m afraid this life is all I know.”
Mitzi reaches out to wipe his cheek. He didn’t know when he’d started crying.
“He left us, Rocky. No one told him to leave. He made that decision all on his own.”
Her words are brutal and honest and are exactly what he needs to hear to get over this. His brain just couldn’t process the reality of the situation. It didn’t seem to want to.
“You’re far too young to be stuck on someone who hurt you. You’ll find someone else; you just wait and see.”
He doesn't want anyone else.
Rocky takes his head in his hands as he feels the influx of tears coming in hot, his elbows resting on his thighs as the sobs racking his body are hard to hold back. Mitzi rubs his back gently, whispering comforting words as Rocky fights to regain control of his emotions.
She’d been through this before, breaking down after holding themselves up for far too long. Horatio had seen her cry a handful of times. There was only so much one could hold in.
Especially her after the man she’d loved for years died unexpectedly.
“Sorry, Miss M,” Rocky sniffed, finally lifting his head up to wipe at his eyes with the heel of his paws. “I've never been a pretty crier.”
Mitzi chuckles, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Contrary to popular belief, neither have I, sweetie.”
Rocky takes a moment to catch his breath, his eyes focus on the floor beneath him.
“Let’s get out of here, sugar. This can’t be good for you.”
Never one to question Mitzi’s rules, Rocky slowly but surely pulls himself out of the chair. His bones crack with the stretch, coming to the conclusion that he’d sat there for much longer than he’d anticipated. The clock on the wall read 7:03 PM. He’d lost track of time. Aunt Nina and Freckle expected him at 5.
Mitzi allows him to exit the room first, closing the door behind her and locking it before following him downstairs.
She’d never forgive Mordecai Heller for making that boy cry.